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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34035-8.txt b/34035-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c16091f --- /dev/null +++ b/34035-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11675 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hillman, by E. Phillips Oppenheim + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hillman + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + +Illustrator: George Avison + +Release Date: October 5, 2010 [EBook #34035] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HILLMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Siobhan Hillman, D Alexander, Ernest Schaal, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + THE HILLMAN + + + + + [Illustration: What followed came like a thunder-clap. + FRONTISPIECE. _See page 304._] + + + + + The Hillman + + + By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + + + Author of "The Kingdom of The Blind" + "Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo," Etc. + + + [Illustration] + + + WITH FRONTISPIECE + By GEORGE AVISON + + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + Publishers New York + Published by Arrangement with LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY + + + + + _Copyright, 1917_, + BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + _All rights reserved_ + + Published, January, 1917 + Reprinted, January, 1917 (twice) + February, 1917 (twice) + March, 1917; April, 1917 + + + + + THE HILLMAN + + I + + +Louise, self-engrossed, and with a pleasant sense of detachment from the +prospective inconveniences of the moment, was leaning back among the +cushions of the motionless car. Her eyes, lifted upward, traveled past +the dimly lit hillside, with its patchwork of wall-enclosed fields, up +to where the leaning clouds and the unseen heights met in a misty sea of +obscurity. + +The moon had not yet risen, but a faint and luminous glow, spreading +like a halo about the topmost peak of that ragged line of hills, +heralded its approach. Louise sat with clasped hands, rapt and engrossed +in the esthetic appreciation of a beauty which found its way but seldom +into her town-enslaved life. She listened to the sound of a distant +sheepbell. Her eyes swept the hillsides, vainly yet without curiosity, +for any sign of a human dwelling. The voices of her chauffeur and her +maid, who stood talking heatedly together by the bonnet of the car, +seemed to belong to another world. She had the air of one completely yet +pleasantly detached from all material surroundings. + +The maid, leaving her discomfited companion with a final burst of +reproaches, came to the side of the car. Her voice, when she addressed +her mistress, sank to a lower key, but her eyes still flashed with +anger. + +"But would _madame_ believe it?" she exclaimed. "It is incredible! The +man Charles there, who calls himself a chauffeur of experience, declares +that we are what he calls 'hung up'! Something unexpected has happened +to the magneto. There is no spark. Whose fault can that be, I ask, but +the chauffeur's? And such a desert we have reached! We have searched the +map together. We are thirty miles from any town, many miles from even a +village. What a misfortune!" + +Louise turned her head regretfully away from the mysterious spaces. She +listened patiently, but without any sort of emotion, to her maid's flow +of distressed words. She even smiled very faintly when the girl had +finished. + +"Something will happen," she remarked indifferently. "There is no need +for you to distress yourself. There must be a farmhouse or shelter of +some sort near. If the worst comes to the worst, we can spend the night +in the car. We have plenty of furs and rugs. You are not a good +traveler, Aline. You lose heart too soon." + +The girl's face was a study. + +"_Madame_ speaks of spending the night in the car!" she exclaimed. "Why, +one has not eaten since luncheon, and of all the country through which +we have passed, this is the loneliest and dreariest spot." + +Louise leaned forward and called to the chauffeur. + +"Charles," she asked, "what has happened? Are we really stranded here?" + +The man's head emerged from the bonnet. He came round to the side of the +car. + +"I am very sorry, madam," he reported, "but something has gone wrong +with the magneto. I shall have to take it to pieces before I can tell +exactly what is wrong. At present I can't get a spark of any sort." + +"There is no hope of any immediate repair, then?" + +The chauffeur shook his head dolefully. + +"I shall have to take the magneto down, madam," he said. "It will take +several hours, and it ought to be done by daylight." + +"And in the meantime, what do you suggest that we do?" she asked. + +The man looked a little helpless. His battle of words with Aline had +depressed him. + +"I heard a dog bark a little while ago," he remarked. "Perhaps I had +better go and see whether there isn't a farm somewhere near." + +"And leave us here alone?" Aline exclaimed indignantly. "It is a good +suggestion. It comes well from the man who has got us into such +trouble!" + +Her mistress smiled at her reassuringly. + +"What have we to fear, you foolish girl? For myself, I would like better +than anything to remain here until the moon comes over the top of that +round hill. But listen! It is just as I told you. There is no necessity +for Charles to leave us." + +They all turned their heads. From some distance behind on the hard, +narrow road, curling like a piece of white tape around the hillside, +there came, faintly at first, but more distinctly every moment, the +sound of horse's hoofs. + +"It is as I told you," Louise said composedly. "Some one approaches--on +horseback, too. He will be able to fetch assistance." + +The chauffeur walked back a few yards, prepared to give early warning to +the approaching horseman. The two women, standing up in the car, watched +the spot where the road, hidden for some time in the valley, came into +sight. + +Louder and louder came the sound of the beating of hoofs. Louise gave a +little cry as a man on horseback appeared in sight at the crest of the +hill. The narrow strip of road seemed suddenly dwarfed, an unreasonable +portion of the horizon blotted out. In the half light there was +something almost awesome in the unusual size of the horse and of the man +who rode it. + +"It is a world of goblins, this, Aline!" her mistress exclaimed softly. +"What is it that comes?" + +"It is a human being, _Dieu merci_!" the maid replied, with a +matter-of-fact little sigh of content. + +Conscious of the obstruction in the road, the rider slackened his speed. +His horse, a great, dark-colored animal, pricked up his ears when +scarcely a dozen yards away from the car, stopped short, and suddenly +bolted out on the open moor. There was the sound of a heavy whip, a +loud, masterful voice, and a very brief struggle, during which the horse +once plunged and reared so high that Louise, watching, cried out in +fear. A few moments later, however, horse and rider, the former +quivering and subdued, were beside the car. + +"Has anything happened?" the newcomer asked, raising his whip to his +hat. + +He addressed Louise, instinctively conscious, even in that dim light, +that she was the person in authority. + +She did not at once reply. Her eyes were fixed upon the face of her +questioner. There was little enough of him to be seen, yet she was aware +of an exceptional interest in his dimly revealed personality. He was +young, unusually tall, and his voice was cultivated. Beyond that, she +could see or divine nothing. + +He, for his part, with his attention still largely engaged in keeping +his horse under control, yet knew, in those first few moments, that he +was looking into the face of a woman who had no kinship with the world +in which he had been born and had lived his days. Those were fugitive +thoughts which passed between them, only half conceived, yet strong +enough to remain as first and unforgettable impressions. Then the +commonplace interests of the situation became insistent. + +"I have broken down," Louise said. "My chauffeur tells me that it will +take hours to effect some necessary repair to the car. And +meanwhile--here we are!" + +"You couldn't have chosen a worse place for a breakdown," the young man +observed. "You are miles away from anywhere." + +"You are indeed a comforter!" Louise murmured. "Do you think that you +could possibly get down and advise us what to do? You look so far away +up there." + +There was another brief struggle between the man and his still +frightened horse. Then the former swung himself down, and, with the +bridle through his arm, came and stood by the car. + +"If there is any way in which I can help," he ventured, "I am quite at +your service." + +Louise smiled at him. She remained unoppressed by any fear of +inconvenience or hardship. She had the air of one rather enjoying her +plight. + +"Well, you have begun very nicely by doing what I asked you," she said. +"Really, you know, to an impressionable person there was something +rather terrifying about you when you appeared suddenly from out of the +shadows in such a lonely place. I was beginning to wonder whether you +were altogether real, whether one of those black hills there had not +opened to let you out. You see, I know something of the legends of your +country, although I have never been here before." + +The young man was less at his ease. He stood tapping his boot nervously +with his long riding-whip. + +"I am sorry if I frightened you," he said. "My horse is a little +restive, and the acetylene light which your chauffeur turned on him was +sufficiently alarming." + +"You did not exactly frighten me," she assured him, "but you looked so +abnormally large. Please tell us what you would advise us to do. Is +there a village near, or an inn, or even a barn? Or shall we have to +spend the night in the car?" + +"The nearest village," he replied, "is twelve miles away. Fortunately, +my own home is close by. I shall be very pleased--I and my brother--if +you will honor us. I am afraid I cannot offer you very much in the way +of entertainment--" + +She rose briskly to her feet and beamed upon him. + +"You are indeed a good Samaritan!" she exclaimed. "A roof is more than +we had dared to hope for, although when one looks up at this wonderful +sky and breathes this air, one wonders, perhaps, whether a roof, after +all, is such a blessing." + +"It gets very cold toward morning," the young man said practically. + +"Of course," she assented. "Aline, you will bring my dressing-bag and +follow us. This gentleman is kind enough to offer us shelter for the +night. Dear me, you really are almost as tall as you appeared!" she +added, as she stood by his side. "For the first time in my life you make +me feel undersized." + +He looked down at her, a little more at his ease now by reason of the +friendliness of her manner, although he had still the air of one +embarked upon an adventure, the outcome of which was to be regarded with +some qualms. She was of little more than medium height, and his first +impressions of her were that she was thin, and too pale to be +good-looking; that her eyes were large and soft, with eyebrows more +clearly defined than is usual among Englishwomen; and that she moved +without seeming to walk. + +"I suppose I am tall," he admitted, as they started off along the road. +"One doesn't notice it around here. My name is John Strangewey, and our +house is just behind that clump of trees there, on the top of the hill. +We will do our best to make you comfortable," he added a little +doubtfully; "but there are only my brother and myself, and we have no +women servants in the house." + +"A roof of any sort will be a luxury," she assured him. "I only hope +that we shall not be a trouble to you in any way." + +"And your name, please?" he asked. + +She was a little amazed at his directness, but she answered him without +hesitation. + +"My name," she told him, "is Louise." + +He leaned down toward her, a little puzzled. + +"Louise? But your surname?" + +She laughed softly. It occurred to him that nothing like her laugh had +ever been heard on that gray-walled stretch of mountain road. + +"Never mind! I am traveling incognito. Who I am, or where I am +going--well, what does that matter to anybody? Perhaps I do not know +myself. You can imagine, if you like, that we came from the heart of +your hills, and that to-morrow they will open again and welcome us +back." + +"I don't think there are any motor-cars in fairyland," he objected. + +"We represent a new edition of fairy lore," she told him. "Modern +romance, you know, includes motor-cars and even French maids." + +"All the same," he protested, with masculine bluntness, "I really don't +see how I can introduce you to my brother as 'Louise from fairyland.'" + +She evaded the point. + +"Tell me about your brother. Is he as tall as you, and is he younger or +older?" + +"He is nearly twenty years older," her companion replied. "He is about +my height, but he stoops more than I do, and his hair is gray. I am +afraid that you may find him a little peculiar." + +Her escort paused and swung open a white gate on their left-hand side. +Before them was an ascent which seemed to her, in the dim light, to be +absolutely precipitous. + +"Do we have to climb up that?" she asked ruefully. + +"It isn't so bad as it looks," he assured her, "and I am afraid it's the +only way up. The house is at the bend there, barely fifty yards away. +You can see a light through the trees." + +"You must help me, then, please," she begged. + +He stooped down toward her. She linked her fingers together through his +left arm, and, leaning a little heavily upon him, began the ascent. He +was conscious of some subtle fragrance from her clothes, a perfume +strangely different from the odor of the ghostlike flowers that bordered +the steep path up which they were climbing. Her arms, slight, warm +things though they were, and great though his own strength, felt +suddenly like a yoke. At every step he seemed to feel their weight more +insistent--a weight not physical, solely due to this rush of unexpected +emotions. + +It was he now whose thoughts rushed away to that medley of hill legends +of which she had spoken. Was she indeed a creature of flesh and blood, +of the same world as the dull people among whom he lived? Then he +remembered the motor-car, the chauffeur, and the French maid, and he +gave a little sigh of relief. + +"Are we nearly there?" she asked. "Do tell me if I lean too heavily upon +you." + +"It is only a few steps further," he replied encouragingly. "Please lean +upon me as heavily as you like." + +She looked around her almost in wonder as her companion paused with his +hand upon a little iron gate. From behind that jagged stretch of hills +in the distance a corner of the moon had now appeared. By its light, +looking backward, she could see the road which they had left below, the +moorland stretching away into misty space, an uneasy panorama with its +masses of gray boulders, its clumps of gorse, its hillocks and hollows. + +Before her, through the little iron gate which her escort had pushed +open, was a garden, a little austere looking with its prim flower-beds, +filled with hyacinths and crocuses, bordering the flinty walks. The +trees were all bent in the same direction, fashioned after one pattern +by the winds. Before them was the house--a long, low building, part of +it covered with some kind of creeper. + +As they stepped across the last few yards of lawn, the black, oak door +which they were approaching suddenly opened. A tall, elderly man stood +looking inquiringly out. He shaded his eyes with his hands. + +"Is that you, brother?" he asked doubtfully. + +John Strangewey ushered his companion into the square, oak-paneled hall, +hung with many trophies of the chase, a few oil-paintings, here and +there some sporting prints. It was lighted only with a single lamp +which stood upon a round, polished table in the center of the +white-flagged floor. + +"This lady's motor-car has broken down, Stephen," John explained, +turning a little nervously toward his brother. "I found them in the +road, just at the bottom of the hill. She and her servants will spend +the night here. I have explained that there is no village or inn for a +good many miles." + +Louise turned graciously toward the elder man, who was standing grimly +apart. Even in those few seconds, her quick sensibilities warned her of +the hostility which lurked behind his tightly closed lips and steel-gray +eyes. His bow was stiff and uncordial, and he made no movement to offer +his hand. + +"We are not used to welcoming ladies at Peak Hall, madam," he said. "I +am afraid that you will find us somewhat unprepared for guests." + +"I ask for nothing more than a roof," Louise assured him. + +John threw his hat and whip upon the round table and stood in the center +of the stone floor. She caught a glance which flashed between the two +men--of appeal from the one, of icy resentment from the other. + +"We can at least add to the roof a bed and some supper--and a welcome," +John declared. "Is that not so, Stephen?" + +The older man turned deliberately away. It was as if he had not heard +his brother's words. + +"I will go and find Jennings," he said. "He must be told about the +servants." + +Louise watched the disappearing figure until it was out of sight. Then +she looked up into the face of the younger man, who was standing by her +side. + +"I am sorry," she murmured apologetically. "I am afraid that your +brother is not pleased at this sudden intrusion. Really, we shall give +you very little trouble." + +He answered her with a sudden eager enthusiasm. He seemed far more +natural then than at any time since he had ridden up from out of the +shadows to take his place in her life. + +"I won't apologize for Stephen," he said. "He is a little crotchety. You +must please be kind and not notice. You must let me, if I can, offer you +welcome enough for us both." + + + + + II + + +Louise, with a heavy, silver-plated candlestick in her hand, stood upon +the uneven floor of the bedroom to which she had been conducted, looking +up at the oak-framed family tree which hung above the broad +chimney-piece. She examined the coat of arms emblazoned in the corner, +and peered curiously at the last neatly printed addition, which +indicated Stephen and John Strangewey as the sole survivors of a +diminishing line. When at last she turned away, she found the name upon +her lips. + +"Strangewey!" she murmured. "John Strangewey! The name seems to bring +something into my memory. Have I ever known any one with such a name, +Aline?" + +The maid shook her head. + +"Never, _madame_, to the best of my belief," she declared. "Yet I, too, +seem to have heard it, and lately. It is perplexing. One has seen it +somewhere. One finds it familiar." + +Louise shrugged her shoulders. She stood for a moment looking around her +before she laid down the candlestick. + +The room was of unusual size, with two worm-eaten beams across the +ceiling; the windows were casemented, with broad seats in each recess. +The dressing table, upon which her belongings were set out, was of +solid, black oak, as was also the framework of the huge sofa, the +mirror, and the chairs. The ancient four-poster, hung with chintz and +supported by carved pillars, was spread with fine linen and covered with +a quilt made of small pieces of silk, lavender-perfumed. The great +wardrobe, with its solid mahogany doors, seemed ancient enough to have +stood in its place since the building of the house itself. A log of +sweet-smelling wood burned cheerfully in the open fireplace. + +"Really," Louise decided, "we have been most fortunate. This is an +adventure! Aline, give me some black silk stockings and some black +slippers. I will change nothing else." + +The maid obeyed in somewhat ominous silence. Her mistress, however, was +living in a little world of her own. + +"John Strangewey!" she murmured to herself, glancing across the room at +the family tree. "It is really curious how that name brings with it a +sense of familiarity. It is so unusual, too. And what an unusual-looking +person! Do you think, Aline, that you ever saw any one so superbly +handsome?" + +The maid's little grimace was expressive. + +"Never, _madame_," she replied. "And yet to think of it--a gentleman, a +person of intelligence, who lives here always, outside the world, with +just a terrible old man servant, the only domestic in the house! Nearly +all the cooking is done at the bailiff's, a quarter of a mile away." + +Louise nodded thoughtfully. + +"It is very strange," she admitted. "I should like to understand it. +Perhaps," she added, half to herself, "some day I shall." + +She passed across the room, and on her way paused before an old +cheval-glass, before which were suspended two silver candlesticks +containing lighted wax candles. She looked steadfastly at her own +reflection. A little smile parted her lips. In the bedroom of this +quaint farmhouse she was looking upon a face and a figure which the +illustrated papers and the enterprise of the modern photographer had +combined to make familiar to the world. + +A curious feeling came to her that she was looking at the face of a +stranger. She gazed earnestly into the mirror, with new eyes and a new +curiosity. She contemplated critically the lines of her slender figure +in its neat, perfectly tailored skirt--the figure of a girl, it seemed, +notwithstanding her twenty-seven years. Her soft, white blouse was open +at the neck, displaying a beautifully rounded throat. Her eyes traveled +upward, and dwelt with an almost passionate interest upon the oval face, +a little paler at that moment than usual; with its earnest, brown eyes, +its faint, silky eyebrows, its strong, yet mobile features; its lips a +little full, perhaps, but soft and sensitive; at the masses of brown +hair drawn low over her ears. + +This was herself, then. Did she really justify her reputation for +beauty, or was she just a cult, the passing craze of a world a little +weary of the ordinary standards? Or, again, was it only her art that had +focused the admiration of the world upon her? + +How would she seem to these two men down-stairs, she asked herself--the +dour, grim master of the house, and her more youthful rescuer, whose +coming had somehow touched her fancy? They saw so little of her sex. +They seemed, in a sense, to be in league against it. Would they find out +that they were entertaining an angel unawares? + +She thought with a gratified smile of her incognito. It was a real +trial of her strength, this! When she turned away from the mirror the +smile still lingered upon her lips, a soft light of anticipation was +shining in her eyes. + +John met her at the foot of the stairs. She noticed with some surprise +that he was wearing the dinner-jacket and black tie of civilization. + +"Will you come this way, please?" he begged. "Supper is quite ready." + +He held open the door of one of the rooms on the other side of the hall, +and she passed into a low dining room, dimly lit with shaded lamps. The +elder brother rose from his chair as they entered, although his +salutation was even grimmer than his first welcome. He was wearing a +dress-coat of old-fashioned cut, and a black stock, and he remained +standing, without any smile or word of greeting, until she had taken her +seat. Behind his chair stood a very ancient man servant in a gray +pepper-and-salt suit, with a white tie, whose expression, at the +entrance of this unexpected guest, seemed curiously to reflect the +inhospitable instincts of his master. + +Although conscious of this atmosphere of antagonism, Louise looked +around her with frank admiration as she took her place in the +high-backed chair which John was holding for her. The correctness of the +setting appealed strongly to her artistic perceptions. The figures and +features of the two men--Stephen, tall, severe, stately; John, amazingly +handsome, but of the same type; the black-raftered ceiling; the Jacobean +sideboard; the huge easy chairs; the fine prints upon the walls; the +pine log which burned upon the open hearth--nowhere did there seem to be +a single alien or modern note. + +The table was laid with all manner of cold dishes, supplemented by +others upon the sideboard. There were pots of jam and honey, a silver +teapot and silver spoons and forks of quaint design, strangely cut +glass, and a great Dresden bowl filled with flowers. + +"I am afraid," John remarked, "that you are not used to dining at this +hour. My brother and I are very old-fashioned in our customs. If we had +had a little longer notice--" + +"I never in my life saw anything that looked so delicious as your cold +chicken," Louise declared. "May I have some--and some ham? I believe +that you must farm some land yourselves. Everything looks as if it were +home-made or home-grown." + +"We are certainly farmers," John admitted, with a smile, "and I don't +think there is much here that isn't of our own production." + +"Of course, one must have some occupation, living so far out of the +world," Louise murmured. "I really am the most fortunate person," she +continued. "My car comes to grief in what seems to be a wilderness, and +I find myself in a very palace of plenty!" + +"I am not sure that your maid agrees," John laughed. "She seemed rather +horrified when she found that there was no woman servant about the +place." + +"Aline is spoiled, without a doubt," her mistress declared. "But is that +really the truth?" + +"Absolutely." + +"But how do you manage?" Louise went on. "Don't you need dairymaids, for +instance?" + +"The farm buildings are some distance away from the house," John +explained. "There is quite a little colony at the back, and the woman +who superintends the dairy lives there. It is only in the house that we +are entirely independent of your sex. We manage, somehow or other, with +Jennings here and two boys." + +"You are not both woman-haters, I hope?" + +Her younger host flashed a warning glance at Louise, but it was too +late. Stephen had laid down his knife and fork and was leaning in her +direction. + +"Madam," he intervened, "since you have asked the question, I will +confess that I have never known any good come to a man of our family +from the friendship or service of women. Our family history, if ever you +should come to know it, would amply justify my brother and myself for +our attitude toward your sex." + +"Stephen!" John remonstrated, a slight frown upon his face. "Need you +weary our guest with your peculiar views? It is scarcely polite, to say +the least of it." + +The older man sat, for a moment, grim and silent. + +"Perhaps you are right, brother," he admitted. "This lady did not seek +our company, but it may interest her to know that she is the first woman +who has crossed the threshold of Peak Hall for a matter of six years." + +Louise looked from one to the other, half incredulously. + +"Do you really mean it? Is that literally true?" she asked John. + +"Absolutely," the young man assured her; "but please remember that you +are none the less heartily welcome here. We have few women neighbors, +and intercourse with them seems to have slipped out of our lives. Tell +me, how far have you come to-day, and where did you hope to sleep +to-night?" + +Louise hesitated for a moment. For some reason or other, the question +seemed to bring with it some unexpected and disturbing thought. + +"I was motoring from Edinburgh. As regards to-night, I had not made up +my mind. I rather hoped to reach Kendal. My journey is not at all an +interesting matter to talk about," she went on. "Tell me about your life +here. It sounds most delightfully pastoral. Do you really mean that you +produce nearly everything yourselves? Your honey and preserves and bread +and butter, for instance--are they all home-made?" + +"And our hams," the young man laughed, "and everything else upon the +table. You underestimate the potentiality of male labor. Jennings is +certainly a better cook than the average woman. Everything you see was +cooked by him. We have a sort of secondary kitchen, though, down at the +bailiff's, where the preserves are made and some of the other things." + +"And you live here all the year round?" she asked. + +"My brother," John told her, "has not been further away than the nearest +market-town for nearly twenty years." + +Her eyes grew round with astonishment. + +"But you go to London sometimes?" + +"I was there eight years ago. Since then I have not been further away +than Carlisle or Kendal. I go into the camp near Kendal for three weeks +every year--Territorial training, you know." + +"But how do you pass your time? What do you do with yourself?" she +asked. + +"Farm," he answered. "Farming is our daily occupation. Then for +amusement we hunt, shoot, and fish. The seasons pass before we know it." + +She looked appraisingly at John Strangewey. Notwithstanding his +sun-tanned cheeks and the splendid vigor of his form, there was nothing +in the least agricultural about his manner or his appearance. There was +humor as well as intelligence in his clear, gray eyes. She opined that +the books which lined one side of the room were at once his property and +his hobby. + +"It is a very healthy life, no doubt," she said; "but somehow it seems +incomprehensible to think of a man like yourself living always in such +an out-of-the-way corner, with no desire to see what is going on in the +world, or to be able to form any estimate of the changes in men's +thoughts and habits. Human life seems to me so much more interesting +than anything else. Does this all sound a little impertinent?" she wound +up naïvely. "I am so sorry! My friends spoil me, I believe, and I get +into the habit of saying things just as they come into my head." + +John's lips were open to reply, but Stephen once more intervened. + +"Life means a different thing to each of us, madam," he said sternly. +"There are many born with the lust for cities and the crowded places in +their hearts, born with the desire to mingle with their fellows, to +absorb the conventional vices and virtues, to become one of the +multitude. It has been different with us Strangeweys." + +Jennings, at a sign from his master, removed the tea equipage, evidently +produced in honor of their visitor. Three tall-stemmed glasses were +placed upon the table, and a decanter of port reverently produced. + +Louise had fallen for a moment or two into a fit of abstraction. Her +eyes were fixed upon the opposite wall, from which, out of their faded +frames, a row of grim-looking men and women, startlingly like her two +hosts, seemed to frown down upon her. + +"Is that your father?" she asked, moving her head toward one of the +portraits. + +"My grandfather, John Strangewey," Stephen told her. + +"Was he one of the wanderers?" + +"He left Cumberland only twice during his life. He was master of hounds, +magistrate, colonel in the yeomanry of that period, and three times he +refused to stand for Parliament." + +"John Strangewey!" Louise repeated softly to herself. "I was looking at +your family tree up-stairs," she went on. "It is curious how both my +maid and myself were struck with a sense of familiarity about the name, +as if we had heard or read something about it quite lately." + +Her words were almost carelessly spoken, but she was conscious of the +somewhat ominous silence which ensued. She glanced up wonderingly and +intercepted a rapid look passing between the two men. More puzzled than +ever, she turned toward John as if for an explanation. He had risen +somewhat abruptly to his feet, and his hand was upon the back of her +chair. + +"Will it be disagreeable to you if my brother smokes a pipe?" he asked. +"I tried to have our little drawing-room prepared for you, but the fire +has not been lit for so long that the room, I am afraid, is quite +impossible." + +"Do let me stay here with you," she begged; "and I hope that both of you +will smoke. I am quite used to it." + +John wheeled up an easy chair for her. Stephen, stiff and upright, sat +on the other side of the hearth. He took the tobacco-jar and pipe that +his brother had brought him, and slowly filled the bowl. + +"With your permission, then, madam," he said, as he struck a match. + +Louise smiled graciously. Some instinct prompted her to stifle her own +craving for a cigarette and keep her little gold case hidden in her +pocket. All the time her eyes were wandering around the room. Suddenly +she rose and, moving round the table, stood once more facing the row of +gloomy-looking portraits. + +"So that is your grandfather," she remarked to John, who had followed +her. "Is your father not here?" + +He shook his head. + +"My father's portrait was never painted." + +"Tell the truth, John," Stephen enjoined, rising in his place and +setting down his pipe. "Our father's portrait is not here, madam, +because he was one of those of whom I have spoken--one of those who were +drawn into the vortex of the city, and who knew only the shallow ways of +life. Listen!" + +With a heavy silver candlestick in either hand, Stephen crossed the +room. He raised them high above his head and pointed to the pictures one +by one. + +"John Robert Strangewey, our great-grandfather," he began. "That picture +was a presentation from the farmers of Cumberland. He, too, was a +magistrate, and held many public offices in the county. + +"By his side is his brother, Stephen George Strangewey. For thirty-five +years he took the chair at the farmers' ordinary at Market Ketton on +every Saturday at one o'clock, and there was never a deserving man in +this part of the county, engaged in agricultural pursuits, who at any +time sought his aid in vain. They always knew where he was to be found, +and every Saturday, before dinner was served, there would be some one +there to seek his aid or advice. He lived his life to his own benefit +and to the benefit of his neighbors--the life which we are all sent here +to lead. + +"Two generations before him you see my namesake, Stephen Strangewey. It +was he who invented the first threshing-machine used in this county. He +farmed the land that my brother and I own to-day. He was churchwarden at +our little church, and he, too, was a magistrate. He did his duty in a +smaller way, but zealously and honestly, among the hillmen of this +district." + +"There are gaps in your family history," Louise observed. + +"The gaps, madam," Stephen explained, "are left by those who have +abandoned their natural heritage. We Strangeweys were hillfolk and +farmers, by descent and destiny, for more than four hundred years. Our +place is here upon the land, almost among the clouds, and those of us +who have realized it have led the lives God meant us to lead. There have +been some of our race who have been tempted into the lowlands and the +cities. Not one of them brought honor upon our name. Their pictures are +not here. They are not worthy to be here." + +Stephen set down the candlesticks and returned to his place. Louise, +with her hands clasped behind her back, glanced toward John, who still +stood by her side. + +"Tell me," she asked him, "have none of your people who went out into +the world done well for themselves?" + +"Scarcely one," he admitted. "My brother's words seem a little sweeping, +but they are very near the truth. The air of the great cities seems to +have poisoned every Strangewey--" + +"Not one," Stephen interrupted. "Colonel John Strangewey died leading +his regiment at Waterloo, an end well enough, but reached through many +years of evil conduct and loose living." + +"He was a brave soldier," John put in quietly. + +"That is true," Stephen admitted. "His best friends have claimed no +other quality for him. Madam," he went on, turning toward Louise, "lest +my welcome to you this evening should have seemed inhospitable, let me +tell you this. Every Strangewey who has left our county, and trodden the +downward path of failure, has done so at the instance of one of your +sex. That is why those of us who inherit the family spirit look askance +upon all strange women. That is why no woman is ever welcome within this +house." + +Louise resumed her seat in the easy chair. + +"I am so sorry," she murmured, looking down at her slipper. "I could not +help breaking down here, could I?" + +"Nor could my brother fail to offer you the hospitality of this roof," +Stephen admitted. "The incident was unfortunate but inevitable. It is a +matter for regret that we have so little to offer you in the way of +entertainment." He rose to his feet. The door had been opened. Jennings +was standing there with a candlestick upon a massive silver salver. +Behind him was Aline. "You are doubtless fatigued by your journey, +madam," Stephen concluded. + +Louise made a little grimace, but she rose at once to her feet. She +understood quite well that she was being sent to bed, and she shivered a +little when she looked at the hour--barely ten o'clock. Yet it was all +in keeping. From the doorway she looked back into the room, in which +nothing seemed to have been touched for centuries. She stood upon the +threshold to bid her final good-night, fully conscious of the complete +anachronism of her presence there. + +Her smile for Stephen was respectful and full of dignity. As she glanced +toward John, however, something flashed in her eyes and quivered at the +corners of her lips, something which escaped her control, something +which made him grip for a moment the back of the chair against which he +stood. Then, between the old man servant, who insisted upon carrying her +candle to her room, and her maid, who walked behind, she crossed the +white stone hall and stepped slowly up the broad flight of stairs. + + + + + III + + +Louise awoke the next morning filled with a curious sense of buoyant +expectancy. The sunshine was pouring into the room, brightening up its +most somber corners. It lay across the quilt of her bed, and seemed to +bring out the perfume of lavender from the pillow on which her head +reposed. + +Aline, hearing her mistress stir, hastened at once to the bedside. + +"Good morning, _madame_!" + +Louise sat up and looked around her, with her hands clasped about her +knees. + +"Tell me everything, Aline," she said. "Have you my breakfast there? And +what time is it?" + +"It is half-past nine, _madame_," Aline replied, "and your breakfast is +here. The old imbecile from the kitchen has just brought it up." + +Louise looked approvingly at the breakfast tray, with the home-made +bread and deep-yellow butter, the brown eggs and clear honey. The smell +of the coffee was aromatic. She breathed a little sigh of content. + +"How delicious everything looks!" she exclaimed. + +"The home-made things are well enough in their way, _madame_," Aline +agreed, "but I have never known a household so strange and disagreeable. +That M. Jennings, who calls himself the butler--he is a person +unspeakable, a savage!" + +Louise's eyes twinkled. + +"I don't think they are fond of women in this household, Aline," she +remarked. "Tell me, have you seen Charles?" + +"Charles has gone to the nearest blacksmith's forge to get something +made for the car, _madame_," Aline replied. "He asked me to say that he +was afraid he would not be ready to start before midday." + +"That does not matter," Louise declared, as she settled down to her +breakfast. "I do not care how long it is before he is ready. I should +love to spend a month here!" + +Aline held up her hands. She was speechless. Her mistress laughed at her +consternation. + +"Well," she continued, "there is no fear of their asking us for a month, +or for an hour longer than they can help. The elder Mr. Strangewey, it +seems, has the strongest objection to our sex. There is not a woman +servant in the house, is there?" + +"Not one, _madame_," Aline replied. "I have never been in a household +conducted in such a manner. It is like the kitchen of a monastery. The +terrible Jennings is speechless. If one addresses him, he only mumbles. +The sound of my skirts, or my footstep on the stone floor, makes him +shiver. He is worse, one would imagine, than his master." + +Louise ate and drank reflectively. + +"It is the queerest household one could possibly stumble upon," she +remarked. "The young Mr. Strangewey--he seems different, but he falls in +with his brother's ways." + +Aline glanced at herself in the mirror. She was just out of her +mistress's range of vision, and she made a little grimace at her +reflection. + +"I met him twice this morning in the hall," she remarked. "He wished me +good morning the first time. The second time he did not speak. He did +not seem to see me." + +Louise finished her breakfast and strolled presently to the window. She +gave a little sigh of pleasure as she looked out. + +"But, Aline," she exclaimed, "how exquisite!" + +The maid glanced over her shoulder and went on preparing her mistress's +clothes. + +"It is as _madame_ finds it," she replied. "For myself, I like the +country for fête days and holidays only, and even then I like to find +plenty of people there." + +Louise heard nothing. She was gazing eagerly out of the casement-window. +Immediately below was a grass-grown orchard which stretched upward, at a +precipitous angle, toward a belt of freshly plowed field; beyond, a +little chain of rocky hills, sheer overhead. The trees were pink and +white with blossom; the petals lay about upon the ground like drifted +snowflakes. Here and there yellow jonquils were growing among the long +grass. A waft of perfume stole into the room through the window which +she had opened. + +"Fill my bath quickly, Aline," Louise ordered. "I must go out. I want to +see whether it is really as beautiful as it looks." + +Aline dressed her mistress in silence. It was not until she had finished +lacing her shoes that she spoke another word. Then, suddenly, she +stopped short in the act of crossing the room. Her eyes had happened to +fall upon the emblazoned genealogical record. A little exclamation +escaped her. She swung round toward her mistress, and for once there was +animation in her face. + +"But, _madame_," she exclaimed, "I have remembered! The name +Strangewey--you see it there--it was in our minds all the time that we +had seen or heard of it quite lately. Don't you remember--" + +"Yes, yes!" Louise interrupted. "I know it reminds me of something, but +of what?" + +"Yesterday morning," Aline continued, "it was you _madame_, who read it +out while you took your coffee. You spoke of the good fortune of some +farmer in the north of England to whom a relative in Australia had left +a great fortune--hundreds and thousands of pounds. The name was +Strangewey, the same as that. I remember it now." + +She pointed once more to the family tree. Louise sat for a moment with +parted lips. + +"You are quite right, Aline. I remember it all perfectly now. I wonder +whether it could possibly be either of these two men!" + +Aline shook her head doubtfully. + +"It would be unbelievable, _madame_," she decided. "Could any sane human +creatures live here, with no company but the sheep and the cows, if they +had money--money to live in the cities, to buy pleasures, to be happy? +Unbelievable, _madame_!" + +Louise remained standing before the window. She was watching the +blossom-laden boughs of one of the apple trees bending and swaying in +the fresh morning breeze--watching the restless shadows which came and +went upon the grass beneath. + +"That is just your point of view, Aline," she murmured; "but +happiness--well, you would not understand. They are strange men, these +two. The young one is different now, but as he grows older he will be +like his brother. He will live a very simple and honorable life. He will +be--what is it they call it?--a county magistrate, chairman of many +things, a judge at agricultural shows. When he dies, he will be buried +up in that windy little churchyard, and people will come from a long way +off to say how good he was. My hat, quickly, Aline! If I am not in that +orchard in five minutes I shall be miserable!" + +Louise found her way without difficulty across a cobbled yard, through a +postern gate set in a red-brick wall, into the orchard. Very slowly, and +with her head turned upward toward the trees, she made her way toward +the boundary wall. Once, with a little exclamation of pleasure, she drew +down a bough of the soft, cool blossom and pressed it against her cheek. +She stopped for a moment or two to examine the contents of a row of +chicken-coops, and at every few steps she turned around to face the +breeze which came sweeping across the moorland from the other side of +the house. + +Arrived at the farther end of the orchard, she came to a gate, against +which she rested for a moment, leaning her arms upon the topmost bar. +Before her was the little belt of plowed earth, the fresh, pungent odor +of which was a new thing to her; a little way to the right, the rolling +moorland, starred with clumps of gorse; in front, across the field on +the other side of the gray stone wall, the rock-strewn hills. The +sky--unusually blue it seemed to her, and dotted all over with little +masses of fleecy, white clouds--seemed somehow lower and nearer; or was +she, perhaps higher up? + +She lingered there, absolutely bewildered by the rapid growth in her +brain and senses of what surely must be some newly kindled faculty of +appreciation. There was a beauty in the world which she had not felt +before. + +She turned her head almost lazily at the sound of a man's voice. A team +of horses, straining at a plow, were coming round the bend of the +field, and by their side, talking to the laborer who guided them, was +John Strangewey. She watched him as he came into sight up the steep +rise. Against the empty background, he seemed to lose nothing of the +size and strength that had impressed her on the previous night. He was +bareheaded, and she noticed for the first time that his closely cropped +fair hair was inclined to curl a little near the ears. + +He walked in step with the plowman by his side, but without any of the +laborer's mechanical plod--with a spring in his footsteps, indeed, as if +his life and thoughts were full of joyous things. He was wearing +black-and-white tweed clothes, a little shabby but well-fitting; +breeches and gaiters; thick boots, plentifully caked now with mud. He +was pointing with his stick along the furrow, so absorbed in the +instructions he was giving that he was almost opposite the gate before +he was aware of her presence. He promptly abandoned his task and +approached her. + +"Good morning!" he called out. + +She waved her hand. + +"Good morning!" + +"You have slept well?" he asked. + +"Better, I think, than ever before in my life," she answered. +"Differently, at any rate. And such an awakening!" + +He looked at her, a little puzzled. The glow upon her face and the +sunlight upon her brown hair kept him silent. He was content to look at +her and wonder. + +"Tell me," she demanded impetuously, "is this a little corner of +fairy-land that you have found? Does the sun always shine like this? +Does the earth always smell as sweetly, and are your trees always in +blossom? Does your wind always taste as if God had breathed the elixir +of life into it?" + +He turned around to follow the sweep of her eyes. Something of the same +glow seemed to rest for a moment upon his face. + +"It is good," he said, "to find what you love so much appreciated by +some one else." + +They stood together in a silence almost curiously protracted. Then the +plowman passed again with his team of horses, and John called out some +instructions to him. She followed him down to earth. + +"Tell me, Mr. Strangewey," she inquired, "where are your +farm-buildings?" + +"Come and I will show you," he answered, opening the gate to let her +through. "Keep close to the hedge until we come to the end of the plow; +and then--but no, I won't anticipate. This way!" + +She walked by his side, conscious every now and then of his frankly +admiring eyes as he looked down at her. She herself felt all the joy of +a woman of the world imbibing a new experience. She did not even glance +toward the dismantled motor in the barn which they passed. + +"I am glad," he remarked presently, "that you look upon us more +charitably than your maid." + +"Aline is a good girl," Louise said, smiling, "but hot-water taps and +electric lights are more to her than sunshine and hills. Do you know," +she went on, "I feel like a child being led through an undiscovered +country, a land of real adventures. Which way are we going, and what are +we going to see? Tell me, please!" + +"Wait," he begged. "It is just a queer little corner among the hills, +that is all." + +They reached the end of the plowed field, and, passing through a gate, +turned abruptly to the left and began to climb a narrow path which +bordered the boundary wall, and which became steeper every moment. As +they ascended, the orchard and the long, low house on the other side +seemed to lie almost at their feet. The road and the open moorland +beyond, stretching to the encircling hills, came more clearly into sight +with every backward glance. Louise paused at last, breathless. + +"I must sit down," she insisted. "It is too beautiful to hurry over." + +"It is only a few steps farther," he told her, holding out his hand; +"just to where the path winds its way round the hill there. But perhaps +you are tired?" + +"On the contrary," she assured him, "I never felt so vigorous in my +life. All the exercise I take, as a rule, is in Kensington Gardens; and +look!" She pointed downward to her absurd little shoes, and held out her +hand, "You will have to help me," she pleaded. + +The last few steps were, indeed, almost precipitous. Fragments of rock, +protruding through the grass and bushes, served as steps. John moved on +a little ahead and pulled her easily up. Even the slight tightening of +his fingers seemed to raise her from her feet. She looked at him +wonderingly. + +"How strong you are!" + +"A matter of weight," he answered, smiling. "You are like a feather. You +walk as lightly as the fairies who come out on midsummer night's eve and +dance in circles around the gorse-bushes there." + +"Is it the home of the fairies you are taking me to?" she asked. "If you +have discovered that, no wonder you find us ordinary women outside your +lives!" + +He laughed. + +"There are no fairies where we are going," he assured her. + +They were on a rough-made road now, which turned abruptly to the right a +few yards ahead, skirting the side of a deep gorge. They took a few +steps further, and Louise stopped short with a cry of wonder. + +Around the abrupt corner an entirely new perspective was revealed--a +little hamlet, built on a shoulder of the mountains; and on the right, +below a steep descent, a wide and sunny valley. It was like a tiny world +of its own, hidden in the bosom of the hills. There was a long line of +farm-buildings, built of gray stone and roofed with red tiles; there +were fifteen or twenty stacks; a quaint, white-washed house of +considerable size, almost covered on the southward side with creepers; a +row of cottages, and a gray-walled enclosure--stretching with its white +tombstones to the very brink of the descent--in the midst of which was +an ancient church, in ruins at the further end, partly rebuilt with the +stones of the hillside. + +Louise looked around her, silent with wonder. A couple of sheep-dogs had +rushed out from the farmhouse and were fawning around her companion. In +the background a gray-bearded shepherd, with Scottish plaid thrown over +his shoulder, raised his hat. + +"It isn't real, is it?" she asked, clinging for a moment to John +Strangewey's arm. + +He patted one of the dogs and smiled down at her. + +"Why not? William Elwick there is a very real shepherd, I can assure +you. He has sat on these hills for the last sixty-eight years." + +She looked at the old man almost with awe. + +"It is like the Bible!" she murmured. "Fancy the sunrises he must have +seen, and the sunsets! The coming and the fading of the stars, the +spring days, the music of the winds in these hollow places, booming to +him in the night-time! I want to talk to him. May I?" + +He shook his head. The old man was already shambling off. + +"Better not," he advised. "You would be disappointed, for William has +the family weakness--he cannot bear the sight of a woman. You see, he is +pretending now that there is something wrong with the hill flock. You +asked where the land was that we tilled. Now look down. Hold my arm if +you feel giddy." + +She followed the wave of his ash stick. The valley sheer below them, and +the lower hills, on both sides, were parceled out into fields, enclosed +within stone walls, reminding her, from the height at which they stood, +of nothing so much as the quilt upon her bed. + +"That's where all our pasture is," he told her, "and our arable land. We +grow a great deal of corn in the dip there. All the rest of the +hillside, and the moorlands, of course, are fit for nothing but grazing; +but there are eleven hundred acres down there from which we can raise +almost anything we choose." + +Her eyes swept this strange tract of country backward and forward. She +saw the men like specks in the fields, the cows grazing in the pasture +like toy animals. Then she turned and looked at the neat row of stacks +and the square of farm-buildings. + +"I am trying hard to realize that you are a farmer and that this is your +life," she said. + +He swung open the wooden gate of the churchyard, by which they were +standing. There was a row of graves on either side of the prim path. + +"Suppose," he suggested, "you tell me about yourself now--about your own +life." + +The hills parted suddenly as she stood there looking southward. Through +the chasm she seemed to see very clearly the things beyond. Her own +life, her own world, spread itself out--a world of easy triumphs, of +throbbing emotions always swiftly ministered to, always leaving the same +dull sensation of discontent; a world in which the pathways were broad +and smooth, but in which the end seemed always the same; a world of +receding beauties and mocking desires. The faces of her friends were +there--men and women, brilliant, her intellectual compeers, a little +tired, offering always the same gifts, the same homage. + +"My life, and the world in which I live, seem far away just now," she +said quietly. "I think that it is doing me good to have a rest from +them. Go on talking to me about yourself, please." + +He smiled. He was just a little disappointed. + +"We shall very soon reach the end of all that I have to tell you," he +remarked. "Still, if there is anything you would like to know--" + +"Who were these men and women who have lived and died here?" she +interrupted, with a little wave of her hand toward the graves. + +"All our own people," he told her; "laborers, shepherds, tenant-farmers, +domestic servants. Our clergyman comes from the village on the other +side of that hill. He rides here every Sunday on a pony which we have to +provide for him." + +She studied the names upon the tombstones, spelling them out slowly. + +"The married people," he went on, "are buried on the south side; the +single ones and children are nearer the wall. Tell me," he asked, after +a moment's hesitation, "are you married or single?" + +She gave a little start. The abruptness of the question, the keen, +steadfast gaze of his compelling eyes, seemed for a moment to paralyze +both her nerves and her voice. Again the hills rolled open, but this +time it was her own life only that she saw, her own life, and one man's +face which she seemed to see looking at her from some immeasurable +distance, waiting, yet drawing her closer toward him, closer and closer +till their hands met. + +She was terrified at this unexpected tumult of emotion. It was as if +some one had suddenly drawn away one of the stones from the foundation +of her life. She found herself repeating the words on the tombstone +facing her: + + "And of Elizabeth, for sixty-one years the faithful wife and + helpmate of Ezra Cummings, mother of his children, and his + partner in the life everlasting." + +Her knees began to shake. There was a momentary darkness before her +eyes. She felt for the tombstone and sat down. + + + + + IV + + +The churchyard gate was opened and closed noisily. They both glanced up. +Stephen Strangewey was coming slowly toward them along the flinty path. +Louise, suddenly herself again, rose briskly to her feet. + +"Here comes your brother," she said. "I wish he wouldn't glower at me +so! I really am not such a terrible person as he seems to think." + +John muttered a word or two of polite but unconvincing protest. They +stood together awaiting his approach. Stephen had apparently lost none +of his dourness of the previous night. He was dressed in gray homespun, +with knickerbockers and stockings of great thickness. He wore a flannel +shirt and collar and a black wisp of a tie. Underneath his battered felt +hat his weather-beaten face seemed longer and grimmer than ever, his +mouth more uncompromising. As he looked toward Louise, there was no +mistaking the slow dislike in his steely eyes. + +"Your chauffeur, madam, has just returned," he announced. "He sent word +that he will be ready to start at one o'clock." + +Louise, inspired to battle by the almost provocative hostility of her +elder host, smiled sweetly upon him. + +"You can't imagine how sorry I am to hear it," she said. "I don't know +when, in the whole course of my life, I have met with such a delightful +adventure or spent such a perfect morning!" + +Stephen looked at her with level disapproving eyes--at her slender form +in its perfectly fitting tailored gown; at her patent shoes, so +obviously unsuitable for her surroundings, and at the faint vision of +silk stockings. + +"If I might say so without appearing inhospitable," he remarked, with +faint sarcasm, "this would seem to be the fitting moment for your +departure. A closer examination of our rough life up here might alter +your views." + +She turned toward John, and caught the deprecating glance which flashed +from him to Stephen. + +"Your brother is making fun of me," she declared. "He looks at me and +judges me just as I believe he would judge most people--sternly and +without mercy. After all, you know, even though I am a daughter of the +cities, there is another point of view--ours. Can you not believe that +the call which prompts men and women to do the things in life which are +really worth while is heard as often amid the hubbub of the city as in +the solitude of these austere hills?" + +"The question is a bootless one," Stephen answered firmly. "The city +calls to its own, as the country holds its children, and both do best in +their own environment. Like to like, and each bird to his own nest. You +would be as much out of place here with us, madam, as my brother and I +on the pavements of your city." + +"You may be right," she admitted, "yet you dismiss one of the greatest +questions in life with a single turn of your tongue. It is given to no +one to be infallible. It is even possible that you may be wrong." + +"It is possible," Stephen agreed grimly. + +"The things in life which are worth while," she continued, looking down +into the valley, "are common to all. They do not consist of one thing +for one man, another for another. To whom comes the greater share of +them--the dweller in the city, or you in your primitive and patriarchal +life? You rest your brains, you make the seasons feed you, you work +enough to keep your muscles firm, and nature does the rest. She brings +the food to your doors, and when your harvest is over your work is done. +There are possibilities of rust here, Mr. Strangewey!" + +Stephen's smile was almost disdainful. + +"Madam," he declared, "you have six or seven million people in London. +How many of them live by really creative and honorable work? How many +are there of polyglot race--Hebrews, Germans, foreigners of every type, +preying upon one another, making false incomes which exist only on +paper, living in false luxury, tasting false joys? The sign-post of our +lives must be our personal inclinations. Our inclinations--my brother's +inclinations and mine--lead us, as they have led my people for hundreds +of years, to seek the cleaner things in life and the simpler forms of +happiness. If I do not have the pleasure, madam, of seeing you again, +permit me to wish you farewell." + +He turned and walked away. Louise watched him with very real interest. + +"Do you know," she said to John, "there is something which I can only +describe as biblical about your brother, something a little like the +prophets of the Old Testament, in the way he sees only one issue and +clings to it. Are you, too, of his way of thinking?" + +"Up to a certain point, I believe I am," he confessed. "I do not think I +could ever have lived in the city. I do not think I could ever have been +happy in any of the professions." + +"Certainly I could not imagine you as a stock-broker or a lawyer. I feel +it hard to realize you in any of the ordinary walks of life. Still, you +know, the greatest question of all remains unanswered. Are you content +just to live and flourish and die? Are there no compelling obligations +with which one is born? Do you never feel cramped--in your mind, I +mean?--feel that you want to push your way through the clouds into some +other life?" + +"I feel nearer the clouds here," he answered simply. + +"I suppose you are sure of content--that is to say, if you can keep free +from doubts. Still, there is the fighting instinct, you know; the +craving for action. Don't you feel that sometimes?" + +"Perhaps," he admitted. + +They were leaving the churchyard now. She paused abruptly, pointing to a +single grave in a part of the churchyard which seemed detached from the +rest. + +"Whose grave is that?" she inquired. + +He hesitated. + +"It is the grave of a young girl," he told her quietly. + +"But why is she buried so far off, and all alone?" Louise persisted. + +"She was the daughter of one of our shepherds," he replied. "She went +into service at Carlisle, and returned here with a child. They are both +buried there." + +"Because of that her grave is apart from the others?" + +"Yes," he answered. "It is very seldom, I am glad to say, that anything +of the sort happens among us." + +For the second time that morning Louise was conscious of an unexpected +upheaval of emotion. She felt that the sunshine had gone, that the whole +sweetness of the place had suddenly passed away. The charm of its +simple austerity had perished. + +"And I thought I had found paradise!" she cried. + +She moved quickly from John Strangewey's side. Before he could realize +her intention, she had stepped over the low dividing wall and was on her +knees by the side of the plain, neglected grave. She tore out the spray +of apple-blossom which she had thrust into the bosom of her gown, and +placed it reverently at the head of the little mound. For a moment her +eyes drooped and her lips moved--she herself scarcely knew whether it +was in prayer. Then she turned and came slowly back to her companion. + +Something had gone, too, from his charm. She saw in him now nothing but +the coming dourness of his brother. Her heart was still heavy. She +shivered a little. + +"Come," she said, "let us go back!" + +They commenced the steep descent in silence. Every now and then John +held his companion by the arm to steady her somewhat uncertain +footsteps. It was he at last who spoke. + +"Will you tell me, please, what is the matter with you, and why you +placed that sprig of apple-blossom where you did?" + +His tone woke her from her lethargy. She was a little surprised at its +poignant, almost challenging note. + +"Certainly," she replied. "I placed it there as a woman's protest +against the injustice of that isolation." + +"I deny that it is unjust." + +She turned around and waved her hand toward the little gray building. + +"The Savior to whom your church is dedicated thought otherwise," she +reminded him. "Do you play at being lords paramount here over the souls +and bodies of your serfs?" + +"You judge without knowledge of the facts," he assured her calmly. "The +girl could have lived here happily and been married to a respectable +young man. She chose, instead, a wandering life. She chose, further, to +make it a disreputable one. She broke her mother's heart and soured her +father's latter years. She brought into the world a nameless child." + +Louise's footsteps slackened. + +"You men," she sighed, "are all alike! You judge only by what happens. +You never look inside. That is why your justice is so different from a +woman's. All that you have told me is very pitiful, but there is another +view of the case which you should consider. Let us sit down upon this +boulder for a few moments. There is something that I should like to say +to you before I go." + +They sat upon a ledge of rock. Below them was the house, with its walled +garden and the blossom-laden orchard. Beyond stretched the moorland, +brilliant with patches of yellow gorse, and the hills, blue and melting +in the morning sunlight. + +"Don't you men sometimes realize," she continued earnestly, "the many, +many guises in which temptation may come to a woman, especially to the +young girl so far from home? She may be very lonely, and she may care; +and if she cares, it is so hard to refuse the man she loves. The very +sweetness, the very generosity of a woman's nature prompts her to give, +give, give all the time. There are other women, similarly circumstanced, +who think only of themselves, of their own safety and happiness, and +they escape the danger; but are they to be praised and respected, while +she that yields is condemned and cast out? I feel that you are not going +to agree with me, and I do not wish to argue with you; but what I so +passionately object to is the sweeping judgment you make--the sheep on +one side and the goats on the other. That is how man judges; God looks +further. Every case is different. The law by which one should be judged +may be poor justice for another." + +She glanced at him almost appealingly, but there was no sign of yielding +in his face. + +"Laws," he reminded her, "are made for the benefit of the whole human +race. Sometimes an individual may suffer for the benefit of others. That +is inevitable." + +"And so let the subject pass," she concluded, "but it saddens me to +think that one of the great sorrows of the world should be there like a +monument to spoil the wonder of this morning. Now I am going to ask you +a question. Are you the John Strangewey who has recently had a fortune +left to him?" + +He nodded. + +"You read about it in the newspapers, I suppose," he said. "Part of the +story isn't true. It was stated that I had never seen my Australian +uncle, but as a matter of fact he has been over here three or four +times. It was he who paid for my education at Harrow and Oxford." + +"What did your brother say to that?" + +"He opposed it," John confessed, "and he hated my uncle. He detests the +thought of any one of us going out of sight of our own hills. My uncle +had the wander-fever." + +"And you?" she asked suddenly. + +"I have none of it," he asserted. + +A very faint smile played about her lips. + +"Perhaps not before," she murmured; "but now?" + +"Do you mean because I have inherited the money?" + +She leaned a little toward him. Her smile now was more evident, and +there was something in her eyes which was almost like a challenge. + +"Naturally!" + +"What difference does my money make?" he demanded. + +"Don't you realize the increase of your power as a human being?" she +replied. "Don't you realize the larger possibilities of the life that is +open to you? You can move, if you will, in the big world. You can take +your place in any society you choose, meet interesting people who have +done things, learn everything that is new, do everything that is worth +doing in life. You can travel to the remote countries of the globe. You +can become a politician, a philanthropist, or a sportsman. You can +follow your tastes wherever they lead you, and--perhaps this is the most +important thing of all--you can do everything upon a splendid scale." + +He smiled down at her. + +"That all sounds very nice," he admitted, "but supposing that I have no +taste in any of the directions you have mentioned? Supposing my life +here satisfies me? Supposing I find all that I expect to find in life +here on my own land, among my own hills? What then?" + +She looked at him with a curiosity which was almost passionate. Her lips +were parted, her senses strained. + +"It is not possible," she exclaimed, "that you can mean it!" + +"But why not?" he protested. "I have not the tortuous brain of the +modern politician. I hate cities--the smell of them, the atmosphere of +them, the life in them. The desire for travel is only half born in me. +That may come--I cannot tell. I love the daily work here; I am fond of +horses and dogs. I know every yard of land we own, and I know what it +will produce. It interests me to try experiments--new crops, a new +distribution of crops, new machinery sometimes, new methods of +fertilizing. I love to watch the seasons come and reign and pass. I love +to feel the wind and the sun, and even the rain. All these things have +become a sort of appetite to me. I am afraid," he wound up a little +lamely, "that this is all very badly expressed, but the whole truth of +it is, you see, that I am a man of simple and inherited tastes. I feel +that my life is here, and I live it here and I love it. Why should I go +out like a _Don Quixote_ and search for vague adventures?" + +"Because you are a man!" she answered swiftly. "You have a brain and a +soul too big for your life here. You eat and drink, and physically you +flourish, but part of you sleeps because it is shut away from the world +of real things. Don't you sometimes feel it in your very heart that +life, as we were meant to live it, can only be lived among your fellow +men?" + +He looked upward, over his shoulder, at the little cluster of +farm-buildings and cottages, and the gray stone church. + +"It seems to me," he declared simply, "that the man who tries to live +more than one life fails in both. There is a little cycle of life here, +among our thirty or forty souls, which revolves around my brother and +myself. You would think it stupid and humdrum, because the people are +peasants; but I am not sure that you are right. The elementary things, +you know, are the greatest, and those we have. Our young people fall in +love and marry. The joy of birth comes to our mothers, and the tragedy +of death looms over us all. Some go out into the world, some choose to +remain here. A passer-by may glance upward from the road at our little +hamlet, and wonder what can ever happen in such an out-of-the-way +corner. I think the answer is just what I have told you. Love and +marriage, birth and death happen. These things make life." + +Her curiosity now had become merged in an immense interest. She laid her +fingers lightly upon his arm. + +"You speak for your people," she said. "That is well. I can understand +their simple lives being as absorbing to them as ours are to us. I can +imagine how, here among your hills, you can watch as a spectator a cycle +of life which contains, as you have pointed out, every element of +tragedy and happiness. But you yourself?" + +"I am one of them," he answered, "a necessary part of them." + +"How you deceive yourself! I am sure you are honest, I am sure you +believe what you say, but will you remember what I am going to tell you? +The time will come, before very long, when you will feel doubts." + +"Doubts about what?" + +She smiled enigmatically. + +"Oh, they will assert themselves," she assured him, "and you will +recognize them when they come. Something will whisper to you in your +heart that after all you are not of the same clay as these simple +folk--that there is a different mission in the world for a man like you +than to play the part of feudal lord over a few peasants. Sooner or +later you will come out into the world; and the sooner the better, I +think, Mr. John Strangewey, or you will grow like your brother here +among your granite hills." + +He moved a little uneasily. All the time she was watching him. It seemed +to her that she could read the thoughts which were stirring in his +brain. + +"You would like to say, wouldn't you," she went on, "that your brother's +is a useful and an upright life? So it may be, but it is not wide enough +or great enough. No one should be content with the things which he can +reach. He should climb a little higher, and pluck the riper fruit. Some +day you will feel the desire to climb. Something will come to you--in +the night, perhaps, or on the bosom of that wind you love so much. It +may be a call of music, or it may be a more martial note. Promise me, +will you, that when you feel the impulse you won't use all that +obstinate will-power of yours to crush it? You will destroy the best +part of yourself, if you do. You will give it a chance? Promise!" + +She held out her hand with a little impulsive gesture. He took it in his +own, and held it steadfastly. + +"I will remember," he promised. + +Along the narrow streak of road, from the southward, they both watched +the rapid approach of a large motor-car. There were two servants upon +the front seat and one passenger--a man--inside. It swung into the level +stretch beneath them, a fantasy of gray and silver in the reflected +sunshine. + +Louise had been leaning forward, her head supported upon her hands. As +the car slackened speed, she rose very slowly to her feet. + +"The chariot of deliverance!" she murmured. + +"It is the Prince of Seyre," John remarked, gazing down with a slight +frown upon his forehead. + +She nodded. They had started the descent, and she was walking in very +leisurely fashion. + +"The prince is a great friend of mine," she said. "I had promised to +spend last night, or, at any rate, some portion of the evening, at +Raynham Castle on my way to London." + +He summoned up courage to ask her the question which had been on his +lips more than once. + +"As your stay with us is so nearly over, won't you abandon your +incognito?" + +"In the absence of your brother," she answered, "I will risk it. My name +is Louise Maurel." + +"Louise Maurel, the actress?" he repeated wonderingly. + +"I am she," Louise confessed. "Would your brother," she added, with a +little grimace, "feel that he had given me a night's lodging under false +pretense?" + +John made no immediate reply. The world had turned topsyturvy with him. +Louise Maurel, and a great friend of the Prince of Seyre! He walked on +mechanically until she turned and looked at him. + +"Well?" + +"I am sorry," he declared bluntly. + +"Why?" she asked, a little startled at his candor. + +"I am sorry, first of all, that you are a friend of the Prince of +Seyre." + +"And again why?" + +"Because of his reputation in these parts." + +"What does that mean?" she asked. + +"I am not a scandalmonger," John replied dryly. "I speak only of what I +know. His estates near here are systematically neglected. He is the +worst landlord in the country, and the most unscrupulous. His tenants, +both here and in Westmoreland, have to work themselves to death to +provide him with the means of living a disreputable life." + +"Are you not forgetting that the Prince of Seyre is a friend of mine?" +she asked stiffly. + +"I forget nothing," he answered. "You see, up here we have not learned +the art of evading the truth." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"So much for the Prince of Seyre, then. And now, why your dislike of my +profession?" + +"That is another matter," he confessed. "You come from a world of which +I know nothing. All I can say is that I would rather think of you--as +something different." + +She laughed at his somber face and patted his arm lightly. + +"Big man of the hills," she said, "when you come down from your frozen +heights to look for the flowers, I shall try to make you see things +differently!" + + + + + V + + +The prince, who had just been joined by Stephen, had descended from his +car and was waiting in the road when Louise and John approached. He came +a few paces forward to meet her, and held out both his hands. + +"My dear wandering guest!" he exclaimed. "So I have found you at last! +What shall I say to this mishap which has robbed me of so many hours of +your visit? I am too happy, though, to know that you have suffered no +personal inconvenience." + +"Thanks to the great kindness of my hosts," Louise replied, smiling a +little mockingly at Stephen, "I have been completely spoiled here, +prince, and I can only regard my accident as a delightful little +interlude." + +The prince bowed, and half held out his hand to Stephen. The latter, +however appeared not to notice the movement. + +"I shall always remember with gratitude," the prince declared, "the +kindness of Mr. Strangewey and his brother to my lost guest. I fear," he +went on regretfully, "that I do not seem very neighborly. I am not often +at Raynham Castle, except in August and September. I find your northern +air somewhat too severe for me." + +"Your tenants, prince," Stephen remarked calmly, "would like to see a +little more of you." + +The prince shrugged his shoulders. He was a man of medium height, +slender, with a long and almost colorless face. He carried himself with +the good-humored air of the man of the world among strange surroundings +toward which he desired to express his toleration. His clothes and voice +were perfectly English, although the latter was unusually slow and soft. +At first sight there was no apparent evidence of his foreign birth. He +turned once more toward Stephen. + +"My agent, Mr. Simon, is a very excellent man, and I have every +confidence in his discretion. My tenants here could scarcely feel toward +me as they might have done if Raynham had come into my possession in the +direct line. However, this year, as it happens, I have made up my mind +to spend more time here. My keepers tell me that after four bad seasons +the prospects for grouse on my higher moors are excellent. I shall +hope," he added, turning to John, "to have you join us often. I must +confess that the only time I had ever heard your name, before the +newspapers advertised your recent good fortune, was in connection with +shooting. They tell me that you are the best shot and the finest +horseman in Cumberland." + +"You were probably told that at Raynham," John remarked. "Our people +always exaggerate the prowess of their own folk, and my brother and I +are natives." + +"I trust," the prince concluded, "that you will give me the opportunity +of judging for myself. And now, dear lady," he went on, turning to +Louise, "I am loath to lose another minute of my promised visit. I have +taken the liberty of telling your maid to place your wraps in my car. We +can reach Raynham in time for a late lunch. Your own car can follow us +and bring your maid." + +For a moment Louise did not reply. The prince had moved a few steps +away, to give some directions to his chauffeur, and he saw nothing of +the strange look of indecision that had suddenly crept into her face. +Her eyebrows were contracted. She had turned, and was gazing up the +precipitous strip of moorland toward the gray-walled church. Then she +glanced at John Strangewey, and her eyes seemed filled with the +questioning of a child. It was as if she had abandoned the rôle of +mentor, as if she herself were seeking for guidance or help. + +John's unspoken response was prompt and unmistakable; and she smiled +ever so slightly. She no longer thought him narrow and prejudiced, an +unfair judge of things beyond his comprehension. He had helped her in a +moment of trial. An idea had flashed between them, and she acted upon it +with amazing promptitude. + +"Alas, prince," she sighed, as he turned back toward them, "I am so +sorry, but I fear that this little accident must change all my plans! As +you know, mine was to have been only a brief stay at Raynham, and I fear +now that even that is impossible." + +The prince drew a step nearer. Something of the calm suavity had +suddenly gone from his manner. When he spoke, his measured words were +full of appeal. + +"But, my dear friend," he begged, "you will not rob me altogether of +this visit, to which I have looked forward so eagerly? It was to receive +you for a few hours that I came from Paris and opened Raynham Castle. +You yourself shall decide the length of your stay, and a special train +shall take you back to London the moment you give the word. In that way +you will both save time and spare me--one of the greatest +disappointments of my life!" + +She shook her head, slowly and very decisively. + +"You cannot imagine how sorry I am, prince," she said, "but as it is I +must take a special train from Kendal, if there is not one starting +soon after I reach the station. I wish to reach London either this +evening or very early in the morning." + +The prince was holding himself in restraint with a visible effort. His +eyes were fixed upon Louise's face, as if trying to read her thoughts. + +"Is the necessity so urgent?" he asked. + +"Judge for yourself," she replied. "Henri Graillot is there, waiting for +me. You know how impatient he is, and all London is clamoring for his +play. Night to him is just the same as day. I shall telegraph from +Kendal the hour of my arrival." + +The prince sighed. + +"I think," he said quietly, "that I am the most unfortunate man in the +world! At least, then, you will permit me to drive you to Kendal? I +gather from your chauffeur that your car, although temporarily repaired, +is not altogether reliable." + +She answered him only after a slight hesitation. For some reason or +other, his proposition did not seem wholly welcome. + +"That will be very kind of you," she assented. + +"If we start at once," the prince suggested, "we shall catch the Scotch +mail." + +"You will surely lunch first--and you, prince?" John begged. + +She laid her hand upon his arm. + +"My friend, no," she replied. "I am feverishly anxious to get back to +London. Walk with me to the car. I will wave my adieus to Peak Hall when +we are up among the hills." + +She drew him on a few paces ahead. + +"I am going back to London," she continued, lowering her voice a little, +"with some very strange impressions and some very pleasant memories. I +feel that your life here is, in its way, very beautiful, and yet the +contemplation of your future fills me with an immense curiosity. I have +not talked to you for very long, Mr. Strangewey, and you may not be +quite the sort of person I think you are, but I am seldom mistaken. I am +an artist, you see, and we have perceptions. I think that even here the +time will come when the great unrest will seize you, too, in its toils. +Though the color may not fade from your hills, and though the +apple-blossom may still glorify your orchard, and your flowers bloom and +smell as sweetly, and your winds bring you the same music, I think that +the time will come when the note in you which answers to these things, +and which gives you contentment, will fail to respond. Then I think--I +hope, perhaps--that we may meet." + +She spoke very softly, almost under her breath, and when she had +finished there seemed everywhere a strange emptiness of sound. The +panting of the engine from the motor-car, Stephen's measured words as he +walked with his uncongenial companion, seemed to come to John from some +other world. + +His voice, when he spoke, sounded a little harsh. Although he was +denying it fiercely to himself, he was filled with a dim, harrowing +consciousness that the struggle had already begun. Notwithstanding the +unrealized joy of these few hours, his last words to Louise were almost +words of anger; his last look from beneath his level, close-drawn +eyebrows was almost militant. + +"I hope," he declared, "that what you have said may not be true. I hope +fervently that the time may never come when I shall feel that I need +anything more in life than I can find in the home I love, in the work +which is second nature to me, in my books and my sports!" + +The prince, escaping gracefully from a companion who remained adamant to +all his advances, had maneuvered his way to their side. The last few +steps were taken together. In a few moments they were in the car and +ready to start. Stephen, with a stiff little bow, had already departed. +Louise leaned out from her place with outstretched hands. + +"And now good-by, dear Mr. Strangewey! Your brother would not let me +make my little speech to him, so you must accept the whole of my thanks. +And," she went on, the corners of her mouth twitching a little, although +her face remained perfectly grave, "if the time should come when the +need of reinvestments, or of some new machinery for your farm, brings +you to London, will you promise that you will come and see me?" + +"I will promise that with much pleasure," John answered. + +She leaned back and the prince took her place, holding out his hand. + +"Mr. Strangewey, although your luck has been better than mine, and you +have robbed me of a visit to which I had looked forward for months, I +bear you no ill-will. I trust that you will do me the honor of shooting +with me before long. My head keeper arranges for the local guns, and I +shall see that he sends you a list of the days on which we shall shoot. +May I beg that you will select the most convenient to yourself? If you +have no car here, it will give me additional pleasure to welcome you at +Raynham as my guest." + +John, struggling against an instinctive dislike of which, for many +reasons, he was a little ashamed, murmured a few incoherent words. The +prince leaned back and the car glided away, followed, a few minutes +later, by Louise's own landaulet, with Aline in solitary state inside. + +John watched the little procession until it finally disappeared from +sight; then he turned on his heel and went into the house. Stephen, who +had just filled a pipe, was smoking furiously in the hall. + +"Have they gone?" he demanded. + +John nodded. + +"They are racing into Kendal to catch the Scotchman for London." + +"The sooner she gets there, the better," Stephen growled. + +John raised his head. The light of battle flashed for a moment in his +eyes. + +"She came here unbidden," he said, "and we did no more than our bounden +duty in entertaining her. For the rest, what is there that you can say +against her? Women there must be in the world. Why do you judge those +who come your way so harshly?" + +Stephen withdrew the pipe from his mouth and dealt the black oak table +in front of him a blow with his great fist. Even John himself was struck +with the sudden likeness of his brother's face to the granite rocks +which were piled around their home. + +"I'll answer your question, John," he said. "I'll tell you the truth as +I see it and as I know it. Women there must be to breed men's sons, to +care for their households; even, I grant you, to be their companions and +to lighten the dark days when sorrow comes. But she isn't that sort. She +is as far removed from them as our mountain road is from the scented +thoroughfares of Bond Street or the Rue de la Paix, where she might take +her daily exercise. I'll tell you about her, John. She is one of those +who have sown the hatred of women in my heart. Do you know what I call +them, John? I call them witch-women. There's something of the devil in +their blood. They call themselves artists. They have the gift of turning +the heads and spoiling the lives of sober, well-living men, till they +make them dance to their bidding along the ways of shame, and turn their +useful lives into the dotage of a love-sick boy. They aren't +child-bearing women, that sort! They don't want to take their proper +place in your household by your side, breed sons and daughters for you, +sink their own lives in the greater duties of motherhood. There's +generally a drop of devilish foreign blood in their veins, as she has. +Our grandmother had it. You know the result. The empty frame in the +lumber-room will tell you." + +John, half angry, half staggered by his brother's vehemence, was for the +moment a little confused. + +"There may be women like that, Stephen," he confessed. "I am not denying +the truth of much that you say. But what right have you to class her +among them? What do you know of her?" + +"It's written in her face," Stephen answered fiercely. "Women like her +breathe it from their lips when they speak, just as it shines out of +their eyes when they look at you. An actress, and a friend of the Prince +of Seyre! A woman who thought it worth her while, during her few hours' +stay here--" John had suddenly straightened himself. Stephen clenched +his teeth. "Curse it, that's enough!" he said. "She's gone, anyway. +Come, let's have our lunch!" + + + + + VI + + +Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain road lay empty under +the moonlight. Three months had passed, and none of the mystery of the +earlier season in the year remained. The hills had lost their canopy of +soft, gray mist. Nature had amplified and emphasized herself. The whole +outline of the country was marvelously distinct. The more distant +mountains, as a rule blurred and uncertain in shape, seemed now to +pierce with their jagged summits the edge of the star-filled sky. + +Up the long slope, where three months before he had ridden to find +himself confronted with the adventure of his life, John Strangewey +jogged homeward in his high dog-cart. The mare, scenting her stable, +broke into a quick trot as they topped the long rise. Suddenly she felt +a hand tighten upon her reins. She looked inquiringly around, and then +stood patiently awaiting her master's bidding. + +It seemed to John as if he had passed from the partial abstraction of +the last few hours into absolute and entire forgetfulness of the +present. He could see the motor-car drawn up by the side of the road, +could hear the fretful voice of the maid, and the soft, pleasant words +of greeting from the woman who had seemed from the first as if she were +very far removed indeed from any of the small annoyances of their +accident. + +"I have broken down. Can you help?" + +He set his teeth. The poignancy of the recollection was a torture to +him. Word by word he lived again through that brief interview. He saw +her descend from the car, felt the touch of her hand on his arm, saw the +flash of her brown eyes as she drew close to him with that pleasant +little air of familiarity, shared by no other woman he had ever known. + +Then the little scene faded away, and he remembered the tedious present. +He had spent two dull days at the house of a neighboring landowner, +playing cricket in the daytime, dancing at night with women in whom he +was unable to feel the slightest interest, always with that far-away +feeling in his heart, struggling hour by hour with that curious +restlessness which seemed to have taken a permanent place in his +disposition. He was on his way home to Peak Hall. He knew exactly the +welcome which was awaiting him. He knew exactly the news he would +receive. He raised his whip and cracked it viciously in the air. + +Stephen was waiting for him, as he had expected, in the dining room. The +elder Strangewey was seated in his accustomed chair, smoking his pipe +and reading the paper. The table was laid for a meal, which Jennings was +preparing to serve. + +"Back again, John?" his brother remarked, looking at him fixedly over +his newspaper. + +John picked up one or two letters, glanced them over, and flung them +down upon the table. He had examined every envelope for the last few +months with the same expectancy, and thrown each one down with the same +throb of disappointment. + +"As you see." + +"Had a good time?" + +"Not very. We were too strong for them. They came without a bowler at +all." + +"Did you get a good knock?" + +"A hundred and seven," John replied. "It was just a slog, though. +Nothing to eat, thank you, Jennings. You can clear the table so far as I +am concerned. I had supper with the Greys. Have they finished the +barley-fields, Stephen?" + +"All in at eight o'clock." + +There was a brief silence. Then Stephen knocked the ashes from his pipe +and rose to his feet. + +"John," he asked, "why did you pull up on the road there?" + +There was no immediate answer. The slightest of frowns formed itself +upon the younger man's face. + +"How did you know that I pulled up?" + +"I was sitting with the window open, listening for you. I came outside +to see what had happened, and I saw your lights standing still." + +"I had a fancy to stop for a moment," John said; "nothing more." + +"You aren't letting your thoughts dwell upon that woman?" + +"I have thought about her sometimes," John answered, almost defiantly. +"What's the harm? I'm still here, am I not?" + +Stephen crossed the room. From the drawer of the old mahogany sideboard +he produced an illustrated paper. He turned back the frontispiece +fiercely and held it up. + +"Do you see that, John?" + +"I've seen it already." + +Stephen threw the paper upon the table. + +"She's going to act in another of those confounded French plays," he +said; "translations with all the wit taken out and all the vulgarity +left in." + +"We know nothing of her art," John declared coldly. "We shouldn't +understand it, even if we saw her act. Therefore, it isn't right for us +to judge her. The world has found her a great actress. She is not +responsible for the plays she acts in." + +Stephen turned away and lit his pipe anew. He smoked for a minute or two +furiously. His thick eyebrows came closer and closer together. He seemed +to be turning some thought over in his mind. + +"John," he asked, "is it this cursed money that is making you restless?" + +"I never think of it except when some one comes begging. I promised a +thousand pounds to the infirmary to-day." + +"Then what's wrong with you?" + +John stretched himself out, a splendid figure of healthy manhood. His +cheeks were sun-tanned, his eyes clear and bright. + +"The matter? There's nothing on earth the matter with me," he declared. + +"It isn't your health I mean. There are other things, as you well know. +You do your day's work and you take your pleasure, and you go through +both as if your feet were on a treadmill." + +"Your fancy, Stephen!" + +"God grant it! I've had an unwelcome visitor in your absence." + +John turned swiftly around. + +"A visitor?" he repeated. "Who was it?" + +Stephen glowered at him for a moment. + +"It was the prince," he said; "the Prince of Seyre, as he calls himself, +though he has the right to style himself Master of Raynham. It's only +his foreign blood which makes him choose what I regard as the lesser +title. Yes, he called to ask you to shoot and stay at the castle, if +you would, from the 16th to the 20th of next month." + +"What answer did you give him?" + +"I told him that you were your own master. You must send word +to-morrow." + +"He did not mention the names of any of his other guests, I suppose?" + +"He mentioned no names at all." + +John was silent for a moment. A bewildering thought had taken hold of +him. Supposing she were to be there! + +Stephen, watching him, read his thoughts, and for a moment lost control +of himself. + +"Were you thinking about that woman?" he asked sternly. + +"What woman?" + +"The woman whom we sheltered here, the woman whose shameless picture is +on the cover of that book." + +John swung round on his heel. + +"Stop that, Stephen!" he said menacingly. + +"Why should I?" the older man retorted. "Take up that paper, if you want +to read a sketch of the life of Louise Maurel. See the play she made her +name in--'La Gioconda'!" + +"What about it?" + +Stephen held the paper out to his brother. John read a few lines and +dashed it into a corner of the room. + +"There's this much about it, John," Stephen continued. "The woman played +that part night after night--played it to the life, mind you. She made +her reputation in it. That's the woman we unknowingly let sleep beneath +this roof! The barn is the place for her and her sort!" + +John's clenched fists were held firmly to his sides. His eyes were +blazing. + +"That's enough, Stephen!" he cried. + +"No, it's not enough!" was the fierce reply. "The truth's been burning +in my heart long enough. It's better out. You want to find her a guest +at Raynham Castle, do you?--Raynham Castle, where never a decent woman +crosses the threshold! If she goes there, she goes as his mistress. +Well?" + +An anger that was almost paralyzing, a sense of the utter impotence of +words, drove John in silence from the room. He left the house by the +back door, passed quickly through the orchard, where the tangled +moonlight lay upon the ground in strange, fantastic shadows; across the +narrow strip of field, a field now of golden stubble; up the rough +ascent, across the road, and higher still up the hill which looked down +upon the farm-buildings and the churchyard. + +He sat grimly down upon a great boulder, filled with a hateful sense of +unwreaked passion, yet with a queer thankfulness in his heart that he +had escaped the miasma of evil thoughts which Stephen's words seemed to +have created. The fancy seized him to face these half-veiled suggestions +of his brother's, so far as they concerned himself and his life during +the last few months. + +Stephen was right. This woman who had dropped from the clouds for those +few brief hours had played strange havoc with John's thoughts and his +whole outlook upon life. The coming of harvest, the care of his people, +his sports, his cricket, the early days upon the grouse moors, had all +suddenly lost their interest for him. Life had become a task. The echo +of her half-mocking, half-challenging words was always in his ears. + +He sat with his head resting upon his hands, looking steadfastly across +the valley below. Almost at his feet lay the little church with its +graveyard, the long line of stacks and barns, the laborers' cottages, +the bailiff's house, the whole little colony around which his life +seemed centered. The summer moonlight lay upon the ground almost like +snow. He could see the sheaves of wheat standing up in the most distant +of the cornfields. Beyond was the dark gorge toward which he had looked +so many nights at this hour. + +Across the viaduct there came a blaze of streaming light, a serpentlike +trail, a faintly heard whistle--the Scottish Express on its way +southward toward London. His eyes followed it out of sight. He found +himself thinking of the passengers who would wake the next morning in +London. He felt himself suddenly acutely conscious of his isolation. Was +there not something almost monastic in the seclusion which had become a +passion with Stephen, and which had its grip, too, upon him--a waste of +life, a burying of talents? + +He rose to his feet. The half-formed purpose of weeks held him now, +definite and secure. He knew that this pilgrimage of his to the hilltop, +his rapt contemplation of the little panorama which had become so dear +to him, was in a sense valedictory. + + * * * * * + +After all, two more months passed before the end came, and it came then +without a moment's warning. It was a little past midday when John drove +slowly through the streets of Market Ketton in his high dogcart, +exchanging salutations right and left with the tradespeople, with +farmers brought into town by the market, with acquaintances of all sorts +and conditions. More than one young woman from the shop-windows or the +pavements ventured to smile at him, and the few greetings he received +from the wives and daughters of his neighbors were as gracious as they +could possibly be made. John almost smiled once, in the act of raising +his hat, as he realized how completely the whole charm of the world, for +him, seemed to lie in one woman's eyes. + +At the crossways, where he should have turned up to the inn, he paused +while a motor-car passed. It contained a woman, who was talking to her +host. She was not in the least like Louise, and yet instinctively he +knew that she was of the same world. The perfection of her white-serge +costume, her hat so smartly worn, the half-insolent smile, the little +gesture with which she raised her hand--something about her unlocked the +floodgates. + +Market Ketton had seemed well enough a few minutes ago. John had felt a +healthy appetite for his midday meal, and a certain interest concerning +a deal of barley upon which he was about to engage. And now another +world had him in its grip. He flicked the mare with his whip, turned +away from the inn, and galloped up to the station, keeping pace with the +train whose whistle he had heard. Standing outside was a local +horse-dealer of his acquaintance. + +"Take the mare back for me to Peak Hall, will you, Jenkins, or send one +of your lads?" he begged. "I want to catch this train." + +The man assented with pleasure--it paid to do a kindness for a +Strangewey. John passed through the ticket-office to the platform, where +the train was waiting, threw open the door of a carriage, and flung +himself into a corner seat. The whistle sounded. The adventure of his +life had begun at last. + + + + + VII + + +The great French dramatist, dark, pale-faced, and corpulent, stood upon +the extreme edge of the stage, brandishing his manuscript in his hand. +From close at hand, the stage manager watched him anxiously. For the +third time M. Graillot was within a few inches of the orchestra-well. + +"If you would pardon me, M. Graillot," he ventured timidly, "the +footlights are quite unprotected, as you see." + +Graillot glanced behind him and promptly abandoned his dangerous +position. + +"It is you, ladies and gentlemen," he declared, shaking his manuscript +vigorously at the handful of people upon the stage, "who drive me into +forgetfulness and place me in the danger from which our friend here has +just rescued me. Do I not best know the words and the phrases which will +carry the messages of my play across the footlights? Who is to judge, +ladies and gentlemen--you or I?" + +He banged the palm of his left hand with the rolled-up manuscript and +looked at them all furiously. A slight, middle-aged man, clean-shaven, +with a single eyeglass, and features very well known to the theatergoing +world, detached himself a little from the others. + +"No one indeed, dear M. Graillot," he admitted, "could possibly know +these things so well as you; but, on the other hand, when you write in +your study at Fontainebleau you write for a quicker-minded public than +ours. The phrase which would find its way at once to the brain of the +French audience needs, shall I say, just a little amplification to carry +equal weight across the footlights of my theater. I will admit that we +are dealing with a translation which is, in its way, not sufficiently +literal, but our friend Shamus here has pointed out to me the +difficulties. The fact is, M. Graillot, that some of the finest phrases +in your work are untranslatable." + +"There are times," the dramatist asserted, moistening his lips +vigorously with his tongue, "when I regret that I ever suffered Mr. +Shamus or anybody else to attempt to translate my inimitable play into a +language wholly inadequate to express its charm and subtlety!" + +"Quite so," the actor remarked sympathetically; "but still, since the +deed has been done, M. Graillot, and since we are going to produce the +result in the course of a fortnight or so, or lose a great deal of +money, don't you think that we had all better try our utmost to insure +the success of the production?" + +"The only success I care for," Graillot thundered, "is an artistic +success!" + +"With Miss Maurel playing your leading part, M. Graillot," the +actor-manager declared, "not to speak of a company carefully selected to +the best of my judgment, I think you may venture to anticipate even +that." + +The dramatist bowed hurriedly to Louise. + +"You recall to me a fact," he said gallantly, "which almost reconciles +me to this diabolical travesty of some of my lines. Proceed, +then--proceed! I will be as patient as possible." + +The stage manager shouted out some directions from his box. A gentleman +in faultless morning clothes, who seemed to have been thoroughly +enjoying the interlude, suddenly adopted the puppetlike walk of a +footman. Other actors, who had been whispering together in the wings, +came back to their places. Louise advanced alone, a little languidly, to +the front of the stage. At the first sound of her voice M. Graillot, +nodding his head vigorously, was soothed. + +Her speech was a long one. It appeared that she had been arraigned +before a company of her relatives, assembled to comment upon her +misdeeds. She wound up with a passionate appeal to her husband, Mr. +Miles Faraday, who had made an unexpected appearance. M. Graillot's +face, as she concluded, was wreathed in smiles. + +"Ah!" he cried. "You have lifted us all up! Now I feel once more the +inspiration. _Mademoiselle_, I kiss your hand," he went on. "It is you +who still redeem my play. You bring back the spirit of it to me. In you +I see the embodiment of my _Thérèse_." + +Miles Faraday gave a little sigh of relief and glanced gratefully toward +Louise. She nodded back to him and gave her hand to the Frenchman, who +held it to his lips. + +"You flatter me, M. Graillot," she said. "It is simply that I feel the +force of your beautiful words. _Thérèse_ is a wonderful conception! As +to those disputed passages--well, I feel myself in a very difficult +position. Artistically, I am entirely in accord with you, and yet I +understand exactly what Mr. Faraday means from the commercial point of +view. Let us submit the matter to the prince. He knows something of both +sides of the question." + +The Prince of Seyre, who was seated in the orchestra-leader's chair, +looked reproachfully toward Louise. + +"Is this fair?" he protested. "Remember that I am more than half a +Frenchman, and that I am one of our friend's most faithful disciples. I +realize the delicacy of the situation, and I understand Mr. Faraday's +point of view. I tell you frankly that the thought of an empty theater +appals me. It is not the money--I am sure you all know that--but there +isn't a single man or woman in the world who can do his best unless he +or she plays to a full house. Somehow or other, we must secure our +audience." + +"It really comes to this," Faraday intervened. "Shall we achieve a +purely artistic triumph and drive the people away? Or shall we--at the +expense, I admit, of some of the finest passages in M. Graillot's superb +drama--compromise the matter and keep our box-office open? In a more +humble way I hope I also may call myself an artist; and yet not only +must I live myself, but I have a staff of employees dependent upon me." + +Graillot waved his hand. + +"So! No more!" he exclaimed grandiloquently. "The affair is finished. My +consent is given. Delete the lines! As to the scene laid in the bedroom +of _madame_, to-night I shall take up my pen. By noon to-morrow I will +give you a revision which will puff out the cheeks of the Philistines +with satisfaction. Have no fear, _cher ami_ Faraday! Mothers shall bring +their unmarried daughters to see our play. They shall all watch it +without a blush. If there is anything to make the others think, it shall +be beneath the surface. It shall be for the great artist whom it is my +supreme joy to watch," he went on, bowing to Louise, "to act and express +the real truth of my ideas through the music of innocent words." + +"Then all is arranged," Miles Faraday concluded briskly. "We will leave +the second act until tomorrow; then M. Graillot will bring us his +revision. We will proceed now to the next act. Stand back a little, if +you please, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Maurel, will you make your +entrance?" + +Louise made no movement. Her eyes were fixed upon a certain shadowy +corner of the wings. Overwrought as she had seemed a few minutes ago, +with the emotional excitement of her long speech, there was now a new +and curious expression upon her face. She seemed to be looking beyond +the gloomy, unlit spaces of the theater into some unexpected land. + +Curiously enough, the three people there most interested in her--the +prince, Graillot, and her friend, Sophy Gerard--each noticed the change. +The little fair-haired girl, who owed her small part in the play to +Louise, quitted her chair to follow the direction of her friend's eyes. +Faraday, with the frown of an actor-manager resenting an intrusion, +gazed in the same direction. + +To Sophy, the newcomer was simply the handsomest young man she had ever +seen in her life. To Faraday he represented nothing more nor less than +the unwelcome intruder. The prince alone, with immovable features, but +with a slight contraction of his eyebrows, gazed with distrust, almost +with fear, unaccountable yet disturbing, at the tall hesitating figure +that stood just off the stage. + +Louise only knew that she was amazed at herself, amazed to find the +walls of the theater falling away from her. She forgot the little +company of her friends by whom she was surrounded. She forgot the +existence of the famous dramatist who hung upon her words, and the +close presence of the prince. Her feet no longer trod the dusty boards +of the theater. She was almost painfully conscious of the perfume of +apple-blossom. + +"You!" she exclaimed, stretching out her hands. "Why do you not come and +speak to me? I am here!" + +John came out upon the stage. The French dramatist, with his hands +behind his back, made swift mental notes of an interesting situation. He +saw the coming of a man who stood like a giant among them, sunburnt, +buoyant with health, his eyes bright with the wonder of his unexpected +surroundings; a man in whose presence every one else seemed to represent +an effete and pallid type of humanity. + +The dramatist and the prince were satisfied, however, with one single +glance at the newcomer. Afterward, their whole regard was focused upon +Louise. The same thought was in the mind of both of them--the same +fear! + + + + + VIII + + +Those first few sentences, spoken in the midst of a curious little crowd +of strangers, seemed to John, when he thought of his long waiting, +almost piteously inadequate. Louise, recognizing the difficulty of the +situation, swiftly recovered her composure. She was both tactful and +gracious. + +"Do tell me how you got in here," she said. "No one is allowed to pass +the stage door at rehearsal times. Mr. Faraday, to whom I will introduce +you in a moment, is a perfect autocrat; and Mr. Mullins, our stage +manager, is even worse." + +"I just asked for you," John explained. "The doorkeeper told me that you +were engaged, but I persuaded him to let me come in." + +She shook her head. + +"Bribery!" she declared accusingly. + +"I heard your voice, and after that it was hard to go away. I'm afraid I +ought to have waited outside." + +Louise turned to Miles Faraday, who was looking a little annoyed. + +"Mr. Faraday," she said appealingly, "Mr. Strangewey comes from the +country--he is, in fact, the most complete countryman I have ever met in +my life. He comes from Cumberland, and he once--well, very nearly saved +my life. He knows nothing about theaters, and he hasn't the least idea +of the importance of a rehearsal. You won't mind if we put him +somewhere out of the way till we have finished, will you?" + +"After such an introduction," Faraday said in a tone of resignation, +"Mr. Strangewey would be welcome at any time." + +"There's a dear man!" Louise exclaimed. "Let me introduce him quickly. +Mr. John Strangewey--Mr. Miles Faraday, M. Graillot, Miss Sophy Gerard, +my particular little friend. The prince you already know, although you +may not recognize him trying to balance himself on that absurd stool." + +John bowed in various directions, and Faraday, taking him good-naturedly +by the arm, led him to a garden-seat at the back of the stage. + +"There!" he said. "You are one of the most privileged persons in London. +You shall hear the finish of our rehearsal. There isn't a press man in +London I'd have near the place." + +"Very kind of you, I'm sure," John replied. "Is this, may I ask, the +play that you are soon going to produce?" + +"Three weeks from next Monday, I hope," Faraday told him. "Don't attempt +to judge by anything you hear this afternoon. We are just deciding upon +some cuts. See you later. You may smoke, if you like." + +Twenty-four hours away from his silent hills, John looked out with +puzzled eyes from his dusty seat among ropes and pulleys and leaning +fragments of scenery. What he saw and heard seemed to him, for the most +part, a meaningless tangle of gestures and phrases. The men and women in +fashionable clothes, moving about before that gloomy space of empty +auditorium, looked more like marionettes than creatures of flesh and +blood, drawn this way and that at the bidding of the stout, masterly +Frenchman, who was continually muttering exclamations and banging the +manuscript upon his hand. + +He kept his eyes fixed upon Louise. He told himself that he was in her +presence at last. As the moments passed, it became more and more +difficult for him to realize the actuality of the scene upon which he +was looking. It seemed like a dream-picture, with unreal men and women +moving about aimlessly, saying strange words. + +Then there came a moment which brought a tingle into his blood, which +plunged his senses into hot confusion. He rose to his feet. Faraday was +sitting down, and Louise was resting both her hands upon his shoulders. + +"Is there nothing I can be to you, then, Edmund?" she asked, her voice +vibrating with a passion which he found it hard to believe was not real. + +Faraday turned slowly in his chair. He held out his arms. + +"One thing," he murmured. + +John had moved half a step forward when he felt the prince's eyes fixed +upon him, and was conscious of a sudden sense of ignorance, almost of +uncouthness. It was a play which they were rehearsing, of course! It was +a damnable thing to see Louise taken into that cold and obviously unreal +embrace, but it was only a play. It was part of her work. + +John resumed his seat and folded his arms. With the embrace had fallen +an imaginary curtain, and the rehearsal was over. They were all crowded +together, talking, in the center of the stage. The prince, who had +stepped across the footlights, made his way to where John was sitting. + +"So you have deserted Cumberland for a time?" he courteously inquired. + +"I came up last night," John replied. + +"You are making a long stay?" + +John hesitated. He felt that no one knew less of his movements than he +himself. His eyes had wandered to where Louise and Graillot were +talking. + +"I can scarcely tell yet. I have made no plans." + +"London, at this season of the year," the prince observed, "is scarcely +at its best." + +John smiled. + +"I am afraid," he said, "that I am not critical. It is eight years since +I was here last, on my way down from Oxford." + +"You have been abroad, perhaps?" the prince inquired. + +"I have not been out of Cumberland during the whole of that time," John +confessed. + +The prince, after a moment's incredulous stare, laughed softly to +himself. + +"You are a very wonderful person, Mr. Strangewey," he declared. "I have +heard of your good fortune. If I can be of any service to you during +your stay in town," he added politely, "please command me." + +"You are very kind," John replied gratefully. + +Louise broke away from the little group and came across toward them. + +"Free at last!" she exclaimed. "Now let us go out and have some tea." + +They made their way down the little passage and out into the sudden +blaze of the sunlit streets. Two cars were drawn up outside the stage +door. + +"The Carlton or Rumpelmayer's?" asked the prince, who had overtaken them +upon the pavement. + +"The Carlton, I think," Louise decided. "We can get a quiet table there +inside the restaurant. You bring Sophy, will you, Eugène? I am going to +take possession of Mr. Strangewey." + +The prince, with a little bow, pointed to the door of his limousine, +which a footman was holding open. Louise led John to a smaller car which +was waiting in the rear. + +"The Carlton," she told the man, as he arranged the rugs. "And now," she +added, turning to John, "why have you come to London? How long are you +going to stay? What are you going to do? And--most important of all--in +what spirit have you come?" + +John breathed a little sigh of contentment. They were moving slowly down +a back street to take their place in the tide of traffic which flooded +the main thoroughfares. + +"That sounds so like you," he said. "I came up last night, suddenly. I +have no idea how long I am going to stay; I have no idea what I am going +to do. As for the spirit in which I have come--well, I should call it an +inquiring one." + +"A very good start," Louise murmured approvingly, "but still a little +vague!" + +"Then I will do away with all vagueness. I came to see you," John +confessed bluntly. + +"Dear me!" she exclaimed, looking at him with a little smile. "How +downright you are!" + +"Country methods," he reminded her. + +"Don't overdo it," she begged. + +"The truth--" he began. + +"Has to be handled very carefully," she said, interrupting him. "The +truth is either beautiful or crude, and the people who meddle with such +a wonderful thing need a great deal of tact. You have come to see me, +you say. Very well, then, I will be just as frank. I have been hoping +that you would come!" + +"You can't imagine how good it is to hear you say that," he declared. + +"Mind," she went on, "I have been hoping it for more reasons than one. +You have come to realize, I hope, that it is your duty to try to see a +little more of life than you possibly can leading a patriarchal +existence among your flocks and herds." + +"That may be so," John assented. "I have often thought of our +conversation. I don't know, even now, whether you were right or wrong. I +only know that since you went away I have felt something of the unrest +with which you threatened me. I want to settle the matter one way or the +other. I want to try, for a little time, what it is like to live in the +crowded places, to be near you, to see, if I may, more of you and your +way of living." + +They were silent for several moments. + +"I thought you would come," Louise said at last; "and I am glad, but +even in these first few minutes I want to say something to you. If you +wish to succeed in your object, and really understand the people you +meet here and the life they lead, don't be like your brother--too quick +to judge. Do not hug your prejudices too tightly. You will come across +many problems, many situations which will seem strange to you. Do not +make up your mind about anything in a hurry." + +"I will remember that," he promised. "You must remember, though, that I +don't expect ever to become a convert. I believe I am a countryman, bred +and born. Still, there are some things that I want to understand, if I +can, and, more than anything else--I want to see you!" + +She faced his direct speech this time with more deliberation. + +"Tell me exactly why." + +"If I could tell you that," he replied simply, "I should be able to +answer for myself the riddle which has kept me awake at night for weeks +and months, which has puzzled me more than anything else in life has +ever done." + +"You really have thought of me, then?" + +"Didn't you always know that I should?" + +"Perhaps," she admitted. "Anyhow, I always felt that we should meet +again, that you would come to London. The problem is," she added, +smiling, "what to do with you now you are here." + +"I haven't come to be a nuisance," he assured her. "I just want a little +help from you." + +She became indiscreet. She looked at him with a little smile at the +corners of her lips. + +"Nothing else?" she asked, almost under her breath. + +"At the end of it all, yes," he answered simply. "I want to understand +because it is your world. I want to feel myself nearer to you. I want--" + +She gripped at his arm suddenly. She knew well enough that she had +deliberately provoked his words, but there was a look in her face almost +of fear. + +"Don't let us be too serious all at once," she begged quickly. "If you +have one fault, my dear big friend from the country," she went on, with +a swiftly assumed gaiety, "it is that you are too serious for your +years. Sophy and I between us must try to cure you of that! You see, we +have arrived." + +He handed her out, followed her across the pavement, and found himself +plunged into what seemed to him to be an absolute vortex of human +beings, all dressed in very much the same fashion, all laughing and +talking together very much in the same note, all criticising every fresh +group of arrivals with very much the same eyes and manner. The +palm-court was crowded with little parties seated at the various round +tables, partaking languidly of the most indolent meal of the day. Even +the broad passageway was full of men and women, standing about talking +or looking for tables. One could scarcely hear the music of the +orchestra for the babel of voices. + +The Prince of Seyre beckoned to them from the steps. He seemed to have +been awaiting their arrival there--a cold, immaculate, and, considering +his lack of height, a curiously distinguished-looking figure. + +"I have a table inside," he told them as they approached. "It is better +for conversation. The rest of the place is like a beer-garden. I am not +sure if they will dance here to-day, but if they do, they will come also +into the restaurant." + +"Wise man!" Louise declared. "I, too, hate the babel outside." + +They were ushered to a round table directly before the entrance, and a +couple of attentive waiters stood behind their chairs. + +"We are faced," said the prince, as he took up the menu, "with our daily +problem. What can I order for you?" + +"A cup of chocolate," Louise replied. + +"And Miss Sophy?" + +"Tea, please." + +John, too, preferred tea; the prince ordered absinth. + +"A polyglot meal, isn't it, Mr. Strangewey?" said Louise, as the order +was executed; "not in the least; what that wonderful old butler of yours +would understand by tea. We become depraved in our appetites, as well as +in our sensations. We are always seeking for something new. Sophy, put +your hat on straight if you want to make a good impression on Mr. +Strangewey. I am hoping that you two will be great friends." + +Sophy turned toward John with a little grimace. + +"Louise is so tactless!" she said. "I am sure any idea you might have +had of liking me will have gone already. Has it, Mr. Strangewey?" + +"On the contrary," he replied, a little stiffly, but without hesitation, +"I was thinking that Miss Maurel could scarcely have set me a more +pleasant task." + +The girl looked reproachfully across at her friend. + +"You told me he came from the wilds and was quite unsophisticated!" she +exclaimed. + +"The truth," John assured them, looking with dismay at his little china +cup, "comes very easily to us. We are brought up on it in Cumberland." + +"Positively nourished on it," Louise agreed. "My dear Sophy, what he +says is quite true. Up there a man would tell you that he didn't like +the cut of your new blouse or the droop of your hat. It's a wonderful +atmosphere, and very austere. You ought to meet Mr. Strangewey's +brother, if you want to know the truth about yourself. Do go on looking +about you, Mr. Strangewey; and when you have finished, tell us just what +you are thinking." + +"Well, just at that moment," he replied, "I was thinking that I ought +not to have come here in these clothes." + +The girl by his side laughed reassuringly. + +"As a matter of fact, you couldn't have done anything more successful," +she declared. "The one thing up here that every one would like to do if +he dared is to be different from his fellows; but very few have the +necessary courage. Besides, at heart we are all so frightfully, +hatefully imitative. The last great success was the prince, when he wore +a black stock with a dinner-coat; but, alas, next evening there were +forty or fifty of them! If you come here to tea to-morrow afternoon, I +dare say you will find dozens of men wearing gray tweed clothes, colored +shirts, and brown boots. I am sure they are most becoming!" + +"Don't chatter too much, child," Louise said benignly. "I want to hear +some more of Mr. Strangewey's impressions. This is--well, if not quite a +fashionable crowd, yet very nearly so. What do you think of it--the +women, for instance?" + +"Well, to me," John confessed candidly, "they all look like dolls or +manikins. Their dresses and their hats overshadow their faces. They seem +all the time to be wanting to show, not themselves, but what they have +on." + +They all laughed. Even the prince's lips were parted by the flicker of a +smile. Sophy leaned across the table with a sigh. + +"Louise," she pleaded, "you will lend him to me sometimes, won't you? +You won't keep him altogether to yourself? There are such a lot of +places I want to take him to!" + +"I was never greedy," Louise remarked, with an air of self-satisfaction. +"If you succeed in making a favorable impression upon him, I promise you +your share." + +"Tell us some more of your impressions, Mr. Strangewey," Sophy begged. + +"You want to laugh at me," John protested good-humoredly. + +"On the contrary," the prince assured him, as he fitted a cigarette into +a long, amber tube, "they want to laugh with you. You ought to realize +your value as a companion in these days. You are the only person who can +see the truth. Eyes and tastes blurred with custom perceive so little. +You are quite right when you say that these women are like manikins; +that their bodies and faces are lost; but one does not notice it until +it is pointed out." + +"We will revert," Louise decided, "to a more primitive life. You and I +will inaugurate a missionary enterprise, Mr. Strangewey. We will judge +the world afresh. We will reclothe and rehabilitate it." + +The prince flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. + +"Morally as well as sartorially?" he asked. + +There was a moment's rather queer silence. The music rose above the +hubbub of voices and died away again. Louise rose to her feet. + +"Quite an intelligent person, really," she said, moving her head in the +direction of the prince. "His little attacks of cynicism come only with +indigestion or after absinth. Now, if you like, you shall escort me +home, Mr. Strangewey. I want to show him exactly where I live," she +explained, addressing the others, "so that he will have no excuse for +not coming to pay his respects to me to-morrow afternoon." + +The prince, with a skilful maneuver, made his way to her side as they +left the restaurant. + +"To-morrow afternoon, I think you said?" he repeated quietly. "You will +be in town then?" + +"Yes, I think so." + +"You have changed your mind, then, about--" + +"M. Graillot will not listen to my leaving London," she interrupted +rapidly. "He declares that it is too near the production of the play. My +own part may be perfect, but he needs me for the sake of the others. He +puts it like a Frenchman, of course." + +They had reached the outer door, which was being held open for them by a +bowing commissionnaire. John and Sophy were waiting upon the pavement. +The prince drew a little back. + +"I understand!" he murmured. + + + + + IX + + +The first few minutes that John spent in Louise's little house were full +of acute and vivid interest. From the moment of his first meeting with +Louise upon the moonlit Cumberland road, during the whole of that next +wonderful morning until their parting, and afterward, through all the +long, dreaming days and nights that had intervened, she had remained a +mystery to him. It was amazing how little he really knew of her. During +his journey to town, he had sat with folded arms in the corner of his +compartment, wondering whether in her own environment he would find her +easier to understand. + +He asked himself that question again now, as he found himself in her +drawing-room, in a room entirely redolent of her personality. Their +meeting at the theater had told him nothing. She had gratified his +sentiment by the pleasure she had shown at his unexpected appearance, +but his understanding remained unsatisfied. + +The room that he was so eagerly studying confirmed his cloudy +impressions of its owner. There was, for a woman's apartment, a curious +absence of ornamentation and knickknacks. The walls were black and +white, an idea fantastic in its way, yet carried out with extreme +lightness in the ceiling and frieze. The carpet was white; the +furniture, of which there was very little, of the French period before +the rococo type, graceful in its outline, rather heavy in build, and +covered with old-rose colored chintz. There were water-colors upon the +wall, an etching or two from a Parisian studio, and some small +black-and-white fantasies, puzzling to John, who had never even heard +the term Futurist, yet in their way satisfactory. + +There was a small-sized grand piano, which seemed to have found its way +almost apologetically into a remote corner; a delightful open fireplace +with rough, white tiles, and an old-fashioned brass box, in which was +piled a little heap of sweet-smelling wood blocks. A table, drawn up to +the side of one of the easy chairs, was covered with books and +magazines, some Italian, a few English, the greater part French; and +upon a smaller one, close at hand, stood a white bowl full of pink +roses. Their odor was somehow reminiscent of Louise, curiously sweet and +wholesome--an odor which suddenly took him back to the morning when she +had come to him from under the canopy of apple-blossom. + +He drew a little sigh of contentment as he rose to his feet and walked +to the window. The room charmed him. It was wonderful that he should +find it like this. His heart began to beat with pleasure even before the +opening of the door announced her presence. She came in with Sophy, who +at once seated herself by his side. + +"We have been making plans," Louise declared, "for disposing of you for +the rest of the day." + +John smiled happily. + +"You're not sending me away, then? You're not acting this evening?" + +"Not until three weeks next Monday," she replied. "Then, if you are +good, and the production is not postponed, you may seat yourself in a +box and make all the noise you like after the fall of the curtain. These +are real holidays for me, except for the nuisance of rehearsals. You +couldn't have come at a better time." + +Sophy glanced at the clock. + +"Well," she said, "I must show my respect to that most ancient of adages +by taking my departure. I feel--" + +"You will do nothing of the sort, child," Louise interrupted. "I want to +interest you in the evolution of Mr. Strangewey." + +"I don't feel that I am necessary," Sophy sighed. "Perhaps I might take +him off your hands some evening when you are busy." + +"On this first evening, at any rate," Louise insisted, "we are going to +be a truly harmonious party of three." + +"Of course, if you really mean it," Sophy remarked, resuming her seat, +"and if I sha'n't make an enemy for life of Mr. Strangewey, I should +love to come, too. Let's decide what to do with him, Louise." + +For a moment the eyes of the two others met. Louise looked swiftly away, +and John's heart gave a little leap. Was it possible that the same +thought had been in her mind--to spend the evening quietly in that +little room? Had she feared it? + +"We must remember," Louise said calmly, "that a heavy responsibility +rests upon us. It is his first night in London. What aspect of it shall +we attempt to show him? Shall we make ourselves resplendent, put on our +best manners and our most gorgeous gowns, and show him the world of +starch and form and fashion from the prince's box at the opera? Or shall +we transform ourselves into Bohemians, drink Chianti at our beloved +Antonio's, eat Italian food in Soho, smoke long cigarettes, and take him +to the Palace? Don't say a word, Sophy. It is not for us to choose." + +"I am afraid that isn't any choice," John declared, his face falling. "I +haven't any clothes except what you see me in." + +"Hooray!" Sophy exclaimed. "Off with your smart gown, Louise! We'll be +splendidly Bohemian. You shall put on your black frock and a black hat, +and powder your nose, and we'll all go to Guido's first and drink +vermuth. I can't look the part, but I can act it!" + +"But tell me," Louise asked him, "did you lose your luggage?" + +"I brought none," he answered. + +They both looked at him--Sophy politely curious, Louise more deeply +interested. He answered the inquiry in her eyes. + +"You'll say, perhaps," he observed, "that living that quiet, half-buried +life up in Cumberland one should have no moods. I have them sometimes. I +was in Market Ketton, on my way to the hotel for lunch, when I heard the +whistle of the London Express coming in. I just had time to drive to the +station, leave the horse and dog-cart with a man I knew, and jump into +the train. I had no ticket or luggage." + +They both stared at him. + +"You mean," Louise demanded, "that after waiting all these months you +started away upon impulse like that--without even letting your brother +know or bringing any luggage?" + +"That's exactly what I did," John agreed, smiling. "I had a sovereign in +my pocket when I had bought my ticket; and by the time I had paid for my +dinner on the train, and tipped the men--well, I hadn't a great deal +left to go shopping with. I stayed at the St. Pancras Hotel, and +telephoned to my solicitor before I got up this morning to have him +send me some money. The joke of it was," he went on, joining in the +girls' laughter, "that Mr. Appleton has been worrying me for months to +come up and talk over reinvestments, and take control of the money my +uncle left me; and when I came at last, I arrived like a pauper. He went +out himself and bought my shirt." + +"And a very nice shirt, too," Sophy declared, glancing at the pattern. +"Do tell us what else happened!" + +"Well, not much more," John replied. "Mr. Appleton stuffed me full of +money and made me take a little suite of rooms at what he called a more +fashionable hotel. He stayed to lunch with me, and I have promised to +see him on business to-morrow morning." + +The two girls sat up and wiped their eyes. + +"Oh, this is a wonderful adventure you have embarked upon!" Louise +exclaimed. "You have come quite in the right spirit. Now I am going to +change my clothes and powder my face, and we will go to Guido's for a +little vermuth, dine at Antonio's, and sit side by side at the Palace. +We shall have to take Sophy with us, but if you show her too much +attention I shall send her home. It is your first night here, Mr. +Strangewey, so I warn you that Sophy is the most irresponsible and +capricious of all my friends. She has more admirers than she knows what +to do with, and she disposes of them in the simplest way in the +world--by getting new ones." + +Sophy made a grimace. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she begged earnestly, "you won't believe a word she +says, will you? All my life I have been looking for a single and +steadfast attachment. Of course, if Louise wants to monopolize you, I +shall fall into the background, as I usually do; but if you think that +I am going to accept hints and let you go out to dinner alone, you are +very much mistaken. To-night, at any rate, I insist upon coming!" + +Louise shook her head. + +"We shall have to put up with her," she told John with a little grimace. + +The door of the room was suddenly opened. The parlor maid stood at one +side. + +"The Prince of Seyre, madam," she announced. + +Louise nodded. She was evidently expecting the visit. She turned to +John. + +"Will you come back and call for us here--say at seven o'clock? Mind, +you are not to bother about your clothes, but to come just as you are. I +can't tell you," she added under her breath, "how much I am looking +forward to our evening!" + +Sophy sprang to her feet. + +"Won't you drop me, please, Mr. Strangewey?" she asked. "Then, if you +will be so kind, you can pick me up again on your way here. You'll have +to pass where I live, if you are at the Milan. I must go home and do my +little best to compete." + +Louise's frown was so slight that even John failed to notice it. Upon +the threshold they encountered the prince, who detained John for a +moment. + +"I was hoping that I might meet you here, Mr. Strangewey," he said. "If +you are in town for long, it will give me great pleasure if I can be of +any service to you. You are staying at a hotel?" + +"I am staying at the Milan," John replied. + +"I will do myself the pleasure of calling upon you," the prince +continued. "In the meantime, if you need any service that a Londoner can +offer you, be sure to let me know. You will easily find my house in +Grosvenor Square." + +"It is very kind of you indeed," John said gratefully. + +Sophy made a wry face as the prince entered the drawing-room. + +"Didn't some old Roman once write something about being afraid of Greeks +who brought gifts?" she asked, as they descended the stairs together. + +"Quite right," John assented. + +"Well, be careful!" she advised him. "That's all." + + * * * * * + +John handed Sophy into the taxi and took his place beside her. + +"Where shall I put you down?" he asked. + +"It's such a terribly low neighborhood! However, it's quite close to the +Milan--No. 10 Southampton Street." + +John gave the address to the man, and they started off. They were +blocked in a stream of traffic almost as soon as they reached Hyde Park +Corner. John leaned forward all the time, immensely interested in the +stream of passers-by. + +"Your interest in your fellow creatures," she murmured demurely, "is +wonderful, but couldn't you concentrate it just a little?" + +He turned quickly around. She was smiling at him most alluringly. +Unconsciously he found himself smiling back again. A wonderful +light-heartedness seemed to have come to him during the last few hours. + +"I suppose I am a perfect idiot," he admitted. "I cannot help it. I am +used to seeing, at the most, three or four people together at a time. I +can't understand these crowds. Where are they all going? Fancy every +one of them having a home, every one of them struggling in some form or +another toward happiness!" + +"Do you know," she pronounced severely, "for a young man of your age you +are much too serious? Please commence your psychological studies +to-morrow. To-night we are going to have a really frivolous evening, you +and I--and Louise. If you want to be a great success during the next few +hours, what you have to do is to imagine that there are only two people +in the world beside yourself--Louise and I." + +"I think I shall find that very easy," he promised, smiling. + +"I am quite sure you could be nice if you wanted to," she continued. +"How much are you in love with Louise?" + +"How much am I what?" + +"In love with Louise," she repeated. "All the men are. It is a perfect +cult with them. And here am I, her humble companion and friend, +absolutely neglected!" + +"I don't believe you are neglected at all," he replied. "You are too +much too--" + +He turned his head to look at her. She was so close to him that their +hats collided. He was profuse in his apologies. + +"Too what?" she whispered. + +"Too attractive," he ventured. + +"It's nice to hear you say so," she sighed. "Well, I have to get out +here. This is where I live, up on the fourth floor." + +"How does one get there?" he inquired. + +She looked at him quickly. There was a little catch in her breath. + +"What do you mean?" she murmured. + +"Didn't you say that I was to come and fetch you, and then we could go +on to Miss Maurel's together?" + +"Of course," she assented slowly. "How stupid of me! Some day I'll show +you, but I know you would lose the way now. If you like, I'll come for +you--to the Milan." + +"If you would really prefer it?" + +"I am quite sure that I should," she decided. "There are about seven +turns up to my room, and I shall have to personally conduct you there +three or four times before you'll ever be able to find your way. I will +come as soon as I am ready, and then you can give me a cocktail before +we set out." + +She disappeared with a little wave of the hand, and John drove on to his +destination. His rooms at the Milan were immensely comfortable and in +their way quite homelike. John made some small changes to his toilet and +was still in his shirt-sleeves, with hair-brushes in his hands, when +there came a ring at the bell. He answered it at once and found Sophy +standing outside. He gave a little start. + +"I say, I'm awfully sorry!" + +"What for, you silly person?" she laughed. "Which way is the sitting +room, please? Oh, I see! Now, please ring for the waiter and order me a +vermuth cocktail, and one for yourself, of course; and I want some +cigarettes. How clever of you to get rooms looking out upon the +Embankment! I wish they would light the lamps. I think the illuminated +arcs along the Embankment and past the Houses of Parliament is the most +wonderful thing in London. Don't please, look so terrified because you +haven't got your coat on! Remember that I have five brothers." + +"I had no idea you would be here so soon," he explained, "or I would +have been downstairs, waiting for you." + +"Don't be stupid!" she replied. "Please remember that when you are with +me, at any rate, you are in Bohemia and not Belgravia. I don't expect +such attentions. I rather like coming up to your rooms like this, and I +always love the Milan. I really believe that I am your first lady +visitor here." + +"You most assuredly are!" he told her. + +She turned away from the window and suddenly threw up her arms. + +"Oh, I love this place!" she exclaimed. "I love the sort of evening that +we are going to have! I feel happy to-night. And do you know?--I quite +like you, Mr. Strangewey!" + +She clasped the back of her chair and from behind it looked across at +him. She was petite and slender, with a very dainty figure. She wore a +black tailor-made costume, a simple, round-black hat with a long quill +set at a provoking angle, white-silk stockings, and black, patent shoes. +She was unlike any girl John had ever known. Her hair was almost golden, +her eyes a distinct blue, yet some trick of the mouth saved her face +from any suggestion of insipidity. She was looking straight into his +eyes, and her lips were curled most invitingly. + +"I wish I knew more about certain things," he said. + +She came round from behind the chair and stood a little nearer to him. + +"What things?" + +"You know," he said, "I am afraid there is no doubt about it that I am +most horribly in love with another woman. I have come to London because +of her. It seems to me that everything in life depends upon how she +treats me. And yet--" + +"And yet what?" she asked, looking up at him a little wistfully. + +"I feel that I want to kiss you," he confessed. + +"Well, if you don't get it done before the waiter brings in those +cocktails, I shall scream!" + +He took her lightly in his arms for a moment and kissed her. Then she +threw herself down in the easy chair and began to laugh softly. + +"Oh, why didn't you come before?" she exclaimed. "Fancy Louise never +telling me about you!" + +The waiter entered a few minutes later. He drew up a small round table +between them, placed the two wineglasses upon it, and departed +expeditiously. John took one of the glasses over to Sophy. She accepted +it and gave him her fingers to kiss. + +"Dear man," she sighed, "I am getting much too fond of you! Go and sit +in your corner, drink your cocktail, and remember Louise. I love your +rooms, and I hope you'll ask me to lunch some time." + +"I'll have a luncheon party to-morrow, if you like--that is, if Louise +will come." + +She looked up at him quickly. + +"Isn't Louise going to Paris?" she asked. + +He set down the glass which he had been in the act of raising to his +lips. + +"Paris? I didn't hear her say anything about it." + +"Perhaps it is my mistake, then," Sophy went on hastily. "I only fancied +that I heard her say so." + +There was a moment's silence. John had opened his lips to ask a +question, but quickly closed them again. It was a question, he suddenly +decided, which he had better ask of Louise herself. + +"If she does go, I shall be very sorry," he said; "but I do not wish, of +course, to upset her plans. We must talk to her about it to-night. I +suppose we ought to go now." + +Sophy walked with him to the door and waited while he took his hat and +gloves from the hat-stand. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm. + +"If Louise goes to Paris," she whispered disconsolately, "I suppose +there will be no luncheon-party?" + +For a single moment he hesitated. She was very alluring, and the +challenge in her eyes was unmistakable. + +"I think," he said quietly, "that if Miss Maurel goes to Paris, I shall +return to Cumberland to-morrow." + +He opened the door, and Sophy passed out before him. She had dropped her +veil. + + * * * * * + +They drove down the Strand toward Knightsbridge. For a time there was a +significant silence. Then Sophy raised her veil once more and looked +toward John. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she began, "you won't mind if I give you just a little +word of advice? You are such a big, strong person, but you are rather a +child, you know, in some things." + +"This place does make me feel ignorant," he admitted. + +"Don't idealize any one here," she begged. "Don't concentrate all your +hopes upon one object. Love is wonderful and life is wonderful, but +there is only one life, and there are many loves before one reaches the +end. People do such silly things sometimes," she wound up, "just because +of a little disappointment. There are many disappointments to be met +with here." + +He took her hand in his. + +"Little girl," he said, "you are very good to me, and I think you +understand. Are you going to let me feel that I have found a friend on +my first evening in London?" + +"If you want me," she answered simply. "I like you, and I want you to be +happy here; and because I want you to be happy, I want you to come down +from the clouds and remember that you have left your hills behind and +that we walk on the pavements here." + +"Thank you," he whispered, "and thank you for what you have not said. If +I am to find sorrow here instead of joy," he added, a little grimly, "it +is better for me to stumble into the knowledge of it by myself." + +"Your hills have taught you just that much of life, then?" Sophy +murmured. + + + + + X + + +The Prince of Seyre handed his hat and stick to the parlor maid and +seated himself upon the divan. + +"I should be very sorry," he said politely, as the maid left the room, +"if my coming has hastened the departure of your visitors." + +"Not in the least," Louise assured him. "They were leaving when you were +announced. Sophy and I are taking Mr. Strangewey to a Bohemian +restaurant and a music-hall afterward." + +"Fortunate Mr. Strangewey!" the prince sighed. "But, forgive me, why not +a more dignified form of entertainment for his first evening?" + +"The poor man has no clothes," Louise explained. "He came to London +quite unexpectedly." + +"No clothes?" the prince repeated. "It is a long journey to take in such +a fashion. A matter of urgent business, perhaps?" + +Louise shrugged her shoulders. She had risen to her feet and was busy +rearranging some roses in the bowl by her side. + +"Mr. Strangewey has just come into a large fortune, as you know," she +said. "Probably there are many things to be attended to." + +The prince made no further comment. He drew a tortoise-shell-and-gold +cigarette-case from his pocket. + +"It is permitted that one smokes?" he inquired. + +"It is always permitted to you," was the gracious reply. + +"One of my privileges," he remarked, as he blew out the match; "in fact, +almost my only privilege." + +She glanced up, but her eyes fell before his. + +"Is that quite fair?" + +"I should be grieved to do anything or to say anything to you that was +not entirely fair." + +She crushed one of the roses to pieces suddenly in her hands and shook +the petals from her long, nervous fingers. + +"To-day," she said, "this afternoon--now--you have come to me with +something in your mind, something you wish to say, something you are not +sure how to say. That is, you see, what Henri Graillot calls my +intuition. Even you, who keep all your feelings under a mask, can +conceal very little from me." + +"My present feelings," the prince declared, "I do not wish to conceal. I +would like you to know them. But as words are sometimes clumsy, I would +like, if it were possible, to let you see into my heart, or, in these +days, shall I not say my consciousness? I should feel, then, that +without fear of misunderstanding you would know certain things which I +would like you to know." + +She came over and seated herself by his side on the divan. She even laid +her hand upon his arm. + +"Eugène," she expostulated, "we are too old friends to talk always in +veiled phrases. There is something you have to say to me. I am +listening." + +"You know what it is," he told her. + +"You are displeased because I have changed my mind about that little +journey of ours?" + +"I am bitterly disappointed," he admitted. + +She looked at him curiously and then down at her rose-stained fingers. + +"That does not sound quite like you," she said. "And yet I ought to know +that sometimes you do feel things, even though you show it so little. I +am sorry, Eugène." + +"Why are you sorry?" + +"Because I feel that I cannot take that journey." + +"You mean that you cannot now, or that you cannot at any time?" + +"I do not know," she answered. "You ask me more than I can tell you. +Sometimes life seems so stable, a thing one can make a little chart of +and hang up on the wall, and put one's finger here and there--'To-day I +will do this, to-morrow I will feel that'--and the next morning comes +and the chart is in the fire. I wish I understood myself a little +better, Eugène!" + +"Self-understanding is the rarest of all gifts," the prince remarked. +"It is left for those who love us to understand us." + +"And you?" + +"I believe that I understand you better, far better, than you understand +yourself," he declared. "That is why I also believe that I am necessary +to you. I can prevent your making mistakes." + +"Then prevent me," she begged. "Something has happened, and the chart is +in the fire to-day." + +"You have only," he said, "to give your maid her orders, to give me this +little hand, and I will draw out a fresh one which shall direct to the +place in life which is best for you. It is not too late." + +She rose from beside him and walked toward the fireplace, as if to touch +the bell. He watched her with steady eyes but expressionless face. There +was something curious about her walk. The spring had gone from her feet, +her shoulders were a little hunched. It was the walk of a woman who +goes toward the things she fears. + +"Stop!" he bade her. + +She turned and faced him, quickly, almost eagerly. There was a look in +her face of the prisoner who finds respite. + +"Leave the bell alone," he directed. "My own plans are changed. I do not +wish to leave London this week." + +Her face was suddenly brilliant, her eyes shone. Something electric +seemed to quiver through her frame. She almost danced back to her place +by his side. + +"How foolish!" she murmured. "Why didn't you say so at once?" + +"Because," he replied, "they have only been changed during the last few +seconds. I wanted to discover something which I have discovered." + +"To discover something?" + +"That my time has not yet come." + +She turned away from him. She was oppressed with a sense almost of fear, +a feeling that he was able to read the very thoughts forming in her +brain; to understand, as no one else in the world could understand, the +things that lived in her heart. + +"I must not keep you," he remarked, glancing at the clock. "It was very +late for me to call, and you will be wanting to join your friends." + +"They are coming here for me," she explained. "There is really no hurry +at all. We are not changing anything. It is to be quite a simple +evening. Sometimes I wish that you cared about things of that sort, +Eugène." + +He blew through his lips a little cloud of smoke from the cigarette +which he had just lit. + +"I do not fancy," he replied, "that I should be much of a success as a +fourth in your little expedition." + +"But it is silly of you not to visit Bohemia occasionally," she +declared, ignoring the meaning that lay beneath his words. "It is +refreshing to rub shoulders with people who feel, and who show freely +what they feel; to eat their food, drink their wine, even join in their +pleasures." + +The prince shook his head. + +"I am not of the people," he said, "and I have no sympathy with them. I +detest the _bourgeoisie_ of every country in the world--my own more +particularly." + +"If you only knew how strangely that sounds!" she murmured. + +"Does it?" he answered. "You should read my family history, read of the +men and women of my race who were butchered at the hands of that +drunken, lustful mob whom lying historians have glorified. I am one of +those who do not forget injuries. My estates are administered more +severely than any others in France. No penny of my money has ever been +spent in charity. I neither forget nor forgive." + +She laughed a little nervously. + +"What an unsympathetic person you can be, Eugène!" + +"And for that very reason," he replied, "I can be sympathetic. Because I +hate some people, I have the power of loving others. Because it pleases +me to deal severely with my enemies, it gives me joy to deal generously +with my friends. That is my conception of life. May I wish you a +pleasant evening?" + +"You are going now?" she asked, a little surprised. + +He smiled faintly as he raised her fingers to his lips. She had made a +little movement toward him, but he took no advantage of it. + +"I am going now." + +"When shall I see you again?" she inquired, as she came back from +ringing the bell. + +"A telephone-message from your maid, a line written with your own +fingers," he said, "will bring me to you within a few minutes. If I hear +nothing, I may come uninvited, but it will be when the fancy takes me. +Once more, Louise, a pleasant evening!" + +He passed out of the door, which the parlor maid was holding open for +him. Crossing to the window, Louise watched him leave the house and +enter his waiting automobile. He gave no sign of haste or +disappointment. He lit another cigarette deliberately upon the pavement +and gave his orders to the chauffeur with some care. + +As the car drove off without his having once glanced up at the window, +she shivered a little. There was a silence which, it seemed to her, +could be more minatory even than accusation. + + + + + XI + + +The little room was gaudily decorated and redolent with the lingering +odors of many dinners. Yet Louise, who had dined on the preceding +evening at the Ritz and been bored, whose taste in food and environment +was almost hypercritical, was perfectly happy. She found the cuisine and +the Chianti excellent. + +"We are outstaying every one else," she declared; "and I don't even mind +their awful legacy of tobacco-smoke. Do you see that the waiter has +brought you the bill, Mr. Strangewey? Prepare for a shock. It is +fortunate that you are a millionaire!" + +John laughed as he paid the bill and ludicrously overtipped the waiter. + +"London must be a paradise to the poor man!" he exclaimed. "I have never +dined better." + +"Don't overdo it," Sophy begged. + +"I can only judge by results," John insisted. "I have dined, and I am +happy; therefore, the dinner must have been good." + +"You are so convincing!" Sophy murmured. "There is such a finality about +your statements that I would not venture to dispute them. But remember +that your future entertainment is in the hands of two women, one of whom +is a deserving but struggling young artist without the means of +gratifying her expensive tastes. There are heaps of places we are going +to take you to which even Louise pretends she cannot afford. It is so +fortunate, Mr. Strangewey, that you are rich!" + +"I believe you would be just as nice to me if I weren't," John ventured. + +"I am so susceptible!" Sophy sighed, looking into her empty coffee-cup; +"much more susceptible than Louise." + +"I won't have Mr. Strangewey spoiled," Louise put in. "And don't build +too much upon his being content with us as entertainers-in-chief. +Remember the halfpenny papers. In a few days he will be +interviewed--'Millionaire Farmer Come to London to Spend His Fortune.' +He will become famous. He will buy a green morocco engagement-book, and +perhaps employ a secretary. We shall probably have to ask ourselves to +luncheon three weeks ahead." + +"I feel these things coming," John declared. + +"My children," said Louise, rising, "we must remember that we are going +to the Palace. It is quite time we started." + +They made their way down two flights of narrow stairs into the street. +The commissionnaire raised his whistle to his lips, but Louise stopped +him. + +"We will walk," she suggested. "This way, Mr. Strangewey!" + +They passed down the long, narrow street, with its dingy foreign cafés +and shops scarcely one of which seemed to be English. The people who +thronged the pavements were of a new race to John, swarthy, a little +furtive, a class of foreigner seldom seen except in alien lands. Men and +women in all stages of dishabille were leaning out of the windows or +standing on the doorsteps. The girls whom they met occasionally--young +women of all ages, walking arm in arm, with shawls on their heads in +place of hats--laughed openly in John's face. + +"Conquests everywhere he goes!" Louise sighed. "We shall never keep him, +Sophy!" + +"We have him for this evening, at any rate," Sophy replied contentedly; +"and he hasn't spent all his fortune yet. I am not at all sure that I +shall not hint at supper when we come out of the Palace." + +"No hint will be necessary," John promised. "I feel the gnawings of +hunger already." + +"A millionaire's first night in London!" Sophy exclaimed. "I think I +shall write it up for the _Daily Mail_." + +"A pity he fell into bad hands so quickly," Louise laughed. "Here we +are! Stalls, please, Mr. Millionaire. I wouldn't be seen to-night in the +seats of the mighty." + +John risked a reproof, however, and was fortunate enough to find a +disengaged box. + +"The tone of the evening," Louise grumbled, as she settled herself down +comfortably, "is lost. This is the most expensive box in the place." + +"You could restore it by eating an orange," Sophy suggested. + +"Or even chocolates," John ventured, sweeping most of the contents of an +attendant's tray onto the ledge of the box. + +"After this," Sophy declared, falling upon them, "supper will be a +farce." + +"Make you thirsty," John reminded her. + +They devoted their attention to the show, Louise and Sophy at first with +only a moderate amount of interest, John with the real enthusiasm of one +to whom everything is new. His laughter was so hearty, his appreciation +so sincere, that his companions found it infectious, and began to +applaud everything. + +"What children we are!" Louise exclaimed. "Fancy shrieking with laughter +at a ventriloquist whom I have seen at every music-hall I have been to +during the last five or six years!" + +"He was wonderfully clever, all the same," John insisted. + +"The bioscope," Louise decided firmly, "I refuse to have anything to do +with. You have had all the entertainment you are going to have this +evening, Mr. Countryman." + +"Now for supper, then," he proposed. + +Sophy sighed as she collected the half-empty chocolate-boxes. + +"What a pity I've eaten so many! They'd have saved me a luncheon +to-morrow." + +"Greedy child," Louise laughed, "sighing for want of an appetite! I +think we'll insist upon a taxi this time. I don't like overcrowded +streets. Where shall we take him to, Sophy? You know the supper places +better than I do." + +"Luigi's," Sophy declared firmly. "The only place in London." + +They drove toward the Strand. John looked around him with interest as +they entered the restaurant. + +"I've been here before," he said, as they passed through the doors. + +"Explain yourself at once," Louise insisted. + +"It was eight years ago, when I was at Oxford," he told them. "We were +here on the boat-race night. I remember," he added reminiscently, "that +some of us were turned out. Then we went on to--" + +"Stop!" Louise interrupted sternly. "I am horrified! The one thing I did +not suspect you of, Mr. Strangewey, was a past." + +"Well, it isn't a very lurid one," he assured them. "That was very +nearly the only evening about town I have ever been guilty of." + +Luigi, who had come forward to welcome Sophy, escorted them to one of +the best tables. + +"You must be very nice to this gentleman, Luigi," she said. "He is a +very great friend of mine, just arrived in London. He has come up on +purpose to see me, and we shall probably decide to make this our +favorite restaurant." + +"I shall be vairy happy," Luigi declared, with a bow. + +"I am beginning to regret, Mr. Strangewey, that I ever introduced you to +Sophy," Louise remarked, as she sank back into her chair. "You won't +believe that all my friends are as frivolous as this, will you?" + +"They aren't," Sophy proclaimed confidently. "I am the one person who +succeeds in keeping Louise with her feet upon the earth. She has never +had supper here before. Dry biscuits, hot milk, and a volume of poems +are her relaxation after the theater. She takes herself too seriously." + +"I wonder if I do!" Louise murmured, as she helped herself to caviar. + +She was suddenly pensive. Her eyes seemed to be looking out of the +restaurant. Sophy was exchanging amenities with a little party of +friends at the next table. + +"One must sometimes be serious," John remarked, "or life would have no +poise at all." + +"I have a friend who scolds me," she confided. "Sometimes he almost +loses patience with me. He declares that my attitude toward life is too +analytical. When happiness comes my way, I shrink back. I keep my +emotions in the background, while my brain works, dissecting, wondering, +speculating. Perhaps what he says is true. I believe that if one gets +into the habit of analyzing too much, one loses all elasticity of +emotion, the capacity to recognize and embrace the great things when +they come." + +"I think you have been right," John declared earnestly. "If the great +things come as they should come, they are overwhelming, they will carry +you off your feet. You will forget to speculate and to analyze. +Therefore, I think you have been wise and right to wait. You have run no +risk of having to put up with the lesser things." + +She leaned toward him across the rose-shaded table. For those few +seconds they seemed to have been brought into a wonderfully intimate +communion of thought. A wave of her hair almost touched his forehead. +His hand boldly rested upon her fingers. + +"You talk," she whispered, "as if we were back upon your hilltops once +more!" + +He turned his head toward the little orchestra, which was playing a low +and tremulous waltz tune. + +"I want to believe," he said, "that you can listen to the music here and +yet live upon the hilltops." + +"You believe that it is possible?" + +"I do indeed," he assured her. "Although my heart was almost sick with +loneliness, I do not think that I should be here if I did not believe +it. I have not come for anything else, for any lesser things, but to +find--" + +For once his courage failed him. For once, too, he failed to understand +her expression. She had drawn back a little, her lips were quivering. +Sophy broke suddenly in upon that moment of suspended speech. + +"I knew how it would be!" she exclaimed. "I leave you both alone for +less than a minute, and there you sit, as grave as two owls. I ask you, +now, is this the place to wander off into the clouds? When two people +sit looking at each other as you were doing a minute ago, here in +Luigi's, at midnight, with champagne in their glasses, and a supper, +ordered regardless of expense, on the table before them, they are either +without the least sense of the fitness of things, or else--" + +"Or else what?" Louise asked. + +"Or else they are head over heels in love with each other!" Sophy +concluded. + +"Perhaps the child is right," Louise assented tolerantly, taking a peach +from the basket by her side. "Evidently it is our duty to abandon +ourselves to the frivolity of the moment. What shall we do to bring +ourselves into accord with it? Everybody seems to be behaving most +disgracefully. Do you think it would contribute to the gaiety of the +evening if I were to join in the chorus of 'You Made Me Love You,' and +Mr. Strangewey were to imitate the young gentleman at the next table and +throw a roll, say, at that portly old gentleman with the highly polished +shirt-front?" + +"There is no need to go to extremes," Sophy protested. "Besides, we +should get into trouble. The portly old gentleman happens to be one of +the directors." + +"Then we will just talk nonsense," Louise suggested. + +"I am not very good at it," John sighed; "and there is so much I want to +say that isn't nonsense." + +"You ought to be thankful all your life that you have met me and that I +am disposed to take an interest in you," Sophy remarked, as she moved +her chair a little nearer to John's. "I am quite sure that in a very +short time you would have become--well, almost a prig. Providence has +selected me to work out your salvation." + +"Providence has been very kind, then," John told her. + +"I hope you mean it," she returned. "You ought to, if you only +understood the importance of light-heartedness." + +The lights were lowered a few minutes later, and John paid the bill. + +"We've enjoyed our supper," Louise whispered, as they passed down the +room. "The whole evening has been delightful!" + +"May I drive you home alone?" he asked bluntly. + +"I am afraid we can't desert Sophy," she replied, avoiding his eyes. +"She nearly always goes home with me. You see, although she seems quite +a frivolous little person, she is really very useful to me--keeps my +accounts, and all that sort of thing." + +"And does her best," Sophy joined in, "to protect you against your +ruinously extravagant habits!" + +Louise laughed. They were standing in the little hall, and the +commissionnaire was blowing his whistle for a taxi. + +"I won't be scolded to-night," she declared. "Come, you shall both of +you drive home with me, and then Mr. Strangewey can drop you at your +rooms on his way back." + +Sophy made a little grimace and glanced up at John anxiously. He was +looking very big and very grim. + +"Shall you mind that?" she asked. + +A slight plaintiveness in her tone dispelled his first disappointment. +After all, it was Louise's decision. + +"I will try to bear it cheerfully," he promised, smiling, as he handed +them into the cab. + + + + + XII + + +As they drove from Luigi's to Knightsbridge, Louise leaned back in her +corner. Although her eyes were only half closed, there was an air of +aloofness about her, an obvious lack of desire for conversation, which +the others found themselves instinctively respecting. Even Sophy's +light-hearted chatter seemed to have deserted her, somewhat to John's +relief. + +He sat back in his place, his eyes fixed upon Louise. He was so anxious +to understand her in all her moods and vagaries. He was forced to admit +to himself that she had deliberately chosen not to take any portion of +that drive home alone with him. And yet, as he looked back through the +evening, he told himself that he was satisfied. He declined to feel even +a shadow of discouragement. + +After a time he withdrew his eyes from her face and looked out upon the +human panorama through which they were passing. + +They were in the very vortex of London's midnight traffic. The night was +warm for the time of year, and about Leicester Square and beyond the +pavements were crowded with pedestrians, the women lightly and gaily +clad, flitting, notwithstanding some sinister note about their +movements, like butterflies or bright-hued moths along the pavements and +across the streets. The procession of taxicabs and automobiles, each +with its human freight of men and women in evening dress on their way +home after an evening's pleasure, seemed endless. + +Presently Sophy began to talk, and Louise, too, roused herself. + +"I am only just beginning to realize," the latter said, "that you are +actually in London." + +"When I leave you," he replied, "I, too, shall find it hard to believe +that we have actually met again and talked. There seems to be so much +that I have to say," he added, looking at her closely, "and I have said +nothing." + +"There is plenty of time," she told him, and once more the signs of that +slight nervousness were apparent in her manner. "There are weeks and +months ahead of us." + +"When shall I see you again?" he asked. + +"Whenever you like. There are no rehearsals for a day or two. Ring me up +on the telephone--you will find my number in the book--or come and lunch +with me to-morrow, if you like." + +"Thank you," he answered; "that is just what I should like. At what +time?" + +"Half past one. I will not ask either of you to come in now. You can +come down to-morrow morning and get the books, Sophy. I think I am +tired--tired," she added, with a curious little note of self-pity in her +tone. "I am very glad to have seen you again, Mr. Strangewey," she said, +lifting her eyes to his. "Good night!" + +He helped her out, rang the bell, and watched her vanish through the +swiftly opened door. Then he stepped back into the taxicab. Sophy +retreated into the corner to make room for him. + +"You are going to take me home, are you not?" she asked. + +"Of course," he replied, his eyes still fixed with a shade of regret +upon the closed door of Louise's little house. "No. 10 Southampton +Street," he told the driver. + +They turned round and spun once more into the network of moving vehicles +and streaming pedestrians. John was silent, and his companion, for a +little while, humored him. Soon, however, she touched him on the arm. + +"This is still your first night in London," she reminded him, "and there +is to-morrow. You are going to lunch with her to-morrow. Won't you talk +to me, please?" + +He shut the door upon a crowd of disturbing thoughts and fantastic +imaginings, and smiled back at her. Her fingers remained upon his arm. A +queer gravity had come into her dainty little face. + +"Are you really in love with Louise?" she inquired, with something of +his own directness. + +He answered her with perfect seriousness. + +"I believe so," he admitted, "but I should not like to say that I am +absolutely certain. I have come here to find out." + +Sophy suddenly rocked with laughter. + +"You are the dearest, queerest madman I have ever met!" she exclaimed, +holding tightly to his arm. "You sit there with a face as long as a +fiddle, wondering whether you are in love with a girl or not! Well, I am +not going to ask you anything more. Tell me, are you tired?" + +"Not a bit," he declared. "I never had such a ripping evening in my +life." + +She held his arm a little tighter. She was the old Sophy again, full of +life and gaiety. + +"Let's go to the Aldwych," she suggested, "and see the dancing. We can +just have something to drink. We needn't have any more supper." + +"Rather!" he assented readily. "But where is it, and what is it?" + +"Just a supper club," she told him. "Tell the man No. 19 Kean Street. +What fun! I haven't been there for weeks." + +"What about my clothes?" he asked. + +"You'll be all right," she assured him. "You're quite a nice-looking +person, and the manager is a friend of mine." + +The cab stopped a few minutes later outside what seemed to be a private +house except for the presence of a commissionnaire upon the pavement. +The door was opened at once, and John was relieved of his hat and stick +by a cloak-room attendant. Sophy wrote his name in a book, and they were +ushered by the manager, who had come forward to greet them, into a long +room, brilliantly lit, and filled, except in the center, with +supper-tables. + +They selected one near the wall and close to the open space in which, at +the present moment, a man and a woman were dancing. The floor was of +hardwood, and there was a little raised platform for the orchestra. John +looked around him wonderingly. The popping of champagne corks was almost +incessant. A slightly voluptuous atmosphere of cigarette-smoke, mingled +with the perfumes shaken from the clothes and hair of the women, several +more of whom were now dancing, hung about the place. A girl in fancy +dress was passing a great basket of flowers from table to table. + +Sophy sat with her head resting upon her hands and her face very close +to her companion's, keeping time with her feet to the music. + +"Isn't this rather nice?" she whispered. "Do you like being here with +me, Mr. John Strangewey?" + +"Of course I do," he answered heartily. "Is this a restaurant?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, it's a club. We can sit here all night, if you like." + +"Can I join?" he asked. + +She laughed as she bent for a form and made him fill it in. + +"Tell me," he begged, as he looked around him, "who are these girls? +They look so pretty and well dressed, and yet so amazingly young to be +out at this time of night." + +"Mostly actresses," she replied, "and musical-comedy girls. I was in +musical comedy myself before Louise rescued me." + +"Did you like it?" + +"I liked it all right," she admitted, "but I left it because I wasn't +doing any good. I can dance pretty well, but I have no voice, so there +didn't seem to be any chance of my getting out of the chorus; and one +can't even pretend to live on the salary they pay you, unless one has a +part." + +"But these girls who are here to-night?" + +"They are with their friends, of course," she told him. "I suppose, if +it hadn't been for Louise, I should have been here, too--with a friend." + +"I should like to see you dance," he remarked, in a hurry to change the +conversation. + +"I'll dance to you some day in your rooms, if you like," she promised. +"Or would you like me to dance here? There is a man opposite who wants +me to. Would you rather I didn't? I want to do just which would please +you most." + +"Dance, by all means," he insisted. "I should like to watch you." + +She nodded, and a minute or two later she had joined the small crowd in +the center of the room, clasped in the arms of a very immaculate young +man who had risen and bowed to her from a table opposite. John leaned +back in his place and watched her admiringly. Her feet scarcely touched +the ground. She never once glanced at or spoke to her partner, but every +time she passed the corner where John was sitting, she looked at him and +smiled. + +He, for his part, watched her no longer with pleasant interest, but with +almost fascinated eyes. The spirit of the place was creeping into his +blood. His long years of seclusion seemed like a spell of time lying +curiously far away, a crude period, mislived in an atmosphere which, +notwithstanding its austere sweetness, took no account of the human cry. +He refilled his glass with champagne and deliberately drank its +contents. It was splendid to feel so young and strong, to feel the wine +in his veins, his pulse and his heart moving to this new measure! + +His eyes grew brighter, and he smiled back at Sophy. She suddenly +released her hold upon her partner and stretched out her arms to him. +Her body swayed backward a little. She waved her hands with a gesture +infinitely graceful, subtly alluring. Her lips were parted with a smile +almost of triumph as she once more rested her hand upon her partner's +shoulder. + +"Who is your escort this evening?" the latter asked her, speaking almost +for the first time. + +"You would not know him," she replied. "He is a Mr. John Strangewey, and +he comes from Cumberland." + +"Just happens that I do know him," the young man remarked. "Thought I'd +seen his face somewhere. Used to be up at the varsity with him. We once +played rackets together. Hasn't he come into a pile just lately?" + +"An uncle in Australia left him a fortune." + +"I'll speak to him presently," the young man decided. "Always make a +point of being civil to anybody with lots of oof!" + +"I expect he'll be glad to meet you again," Sophy remarked. "He doesn't +know a soul in town." + +The dance was finished. They returned together to where John was +sitting, and the young man held out a weary hand. + +"Amerton, you know, of Magdalen," he said. "You're Strangewey, aren't +you?" + +"Lord Amerton, of course!" John exclaimed. "I thought your face was +familiar. Why, we played in the rackets doubles together!" + +"And won 'em, thanks to you," Amerton replied. "Are you up for long?" + +"I am not quite sure," John told him. "I only arrived last night." + +"Look me up some time, if you've nothing better to do," the young man +suggested. "Where are you hanging out?" + +"The Milan." + +"I am at the Albany. So-long! Must get back to my little lady." + +He bowed to Sophy and departed. She sank a little breathlessly into her +chair and laid her hand on John's arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her +bosom was rising and falling quickly. + +"I am out of breath," she said, her head thrown back, perilously near to +John's shoulder. "Lord Amerton dances so well. Give me some champagne!" + +"And you--you dance divinely," he told her, as he filled her glass. + +"If we were alone," she whispered, "I should want you to kiss me!" + +The stem of the wine-glass in John's fingers snapped suddenly, and the +wine trickled down to the floor. A passing waiter hurried up with a +napkin, and a fresh glass was brought. The affair was scarcely noticed, +but John remained disturbed and a little pale. + +"Have you cut your hand?" Sophy asked anxiously. + +"Not at all," he assured her. "How hot it is here! Do you mind if we +go?" + +"Go?" she exclaimed disconsolately. "I thought you were enjoying +yourself so much!" + +"So I am," he answered, "but I don't quite understand--" + +He paused. + +"Understand what?" she demanded. + +"Myself, if you must know." + +She set down the glass which she had been in the act of raising to her +lips. + +"How queer you are!" she murmured. "Listen. You haven't got a wife or +anything up in Cumberland, have you?" + +"You know I haven't," he answered. + +"You're not engaged to be married, you have no ties, you came up here +perfectly free, you haven't even said anything yet--to Louise?" + +"Of course not." + +"Well, then--" she began. + +Her words were so softly spoken that they seemed to melt away. She +leaned forward to look in his face. + +"Sophy," he begged, with sudden and almost passionate earnestness, "be +kind to me, please! I am just a simple, stupid countryman, who feels as +if he had lost his way. I have lived a solitary sort of life--an +unnatural one, you would say--and I've been brought up with some +old-fashioned ideas. I know they are old-fashioned, but I can't throw +them overboard all at once. I have kept away from this sort of thing. I +didn't think it would ever attract me--I suppose because I didn't +believe it could be made so attractive. I have suddenly found out--that +it does!" + +"What are you going to do?" she whispered. + +"There is only one thing for me to do," he answered. "Until I know what +I have come to London to learn, I shall fight against it." + +"You mean about Louise?" + +"I mean about Louise," he said gravely. + +Sophy came still closer to him. Her voice was as soft as the lightest, +finest note of music, trembling a little with that one thread of +passion. She seemed so dainty, so quiet and sweet, that for a moment he +found himself able to imagine that it was all a dream; that hers was +just one of those fairy, disquieting voices that floated about on the +summer breeze and rippled along the valleys and hillsides of his +Cumberland home. Then, swift as the fancy itself, came the warm touch of +her hand upon his, the lure of her voice once more, with its trembling +cadence. + +"Why are you so foolish?" she murmured. "Louise is very wonderful in her +place, but she is not what you want in life. Has it never occurred to +you that you may be too late?" + +"What do you mean?" he demanded. + +"I believe what the world believes, what some day I think she will admit +to herself--that she cares for the Prince of Seyre." + +"Has she ever told you so?" + +"Louise never speaks of these things to any living soul. I am only +telling you what I think. I am trying to save you pain--trying for my +own sake as well as yours." + +He paid his bill and stooped to help her with her cloak. Her heart sank, +her lips quivered a little. It seemed to her that he had passed to a +great distance. + +"Very soon," John said, "I shall ask Louise to tell me the truth. I +think that I shall ask her, if I can, to-morrow!" + + + + + XIII + + +John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a surprise to him. He +was sitting smoking an after-breakfast pipe on the following morning, +and gazing at the telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the +door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside. + +"I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter began. + +"Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his mouth and throwing +open the door. "It is very good of you to come and see me." + +The prince followed John into the little sitting room. He was dressed, +as usual, with scrupulous care. His white linen gaiters were immaculate, +his trousers were perfectly creased, the hang of his coat had engaged +the care of an artist. His tie was of a deep shade of violet, fastened +with a wonderful pearl, and his fingers were perhaps a trifle +overmanicured. He wore a bunch of Parma violets in his buttonhole, and +he carried with him a very faint but unusual perfume, which seemed to +John like the odor of delicate green tea. It was just these details, and +the slowness of his speech, which alone accentuated his foreign origin. + +"It occurred to me," he said, as he seated himself in an easy chair, +"that if you are really intending to make this experiment in town life +of which Miss Maurel spoke, I might be of some assistance to you. There +are certain matters, quite unimportant in themselves, concerning which +a little advice in the beginning may save you trouble." + +"Very good of you, I am sure," John repeated. "To tell you the truth, I +was just looking through the telephone directory to see if I could come +across the name of a tailor I used to have some things from." + +"If it pleases you to place yourself in my hands," the prince suggested, +"I will introduce you to my own tradespeople. I have made the selection +with some care." + +"That will suit me admirably," John declared. "If you will just give me +the addresses--I couldn't think of taking up your time." + +"I have, fortunately, an idle morning," the prince said, "and it is +entirely at your disposal. At half past one I believe we are both +lunching with Miss Maurel." + +John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoyance. His _tête-à-tête_ +with Louise seemed farther off than ever. At the prince's suggestion, +however, he fetched his hat and gloves and entered the former's +automobile, which was waiting below. + +"Miss Maurel!" the prince remarked, as they glided off westward, "is, I +believe, inviting a few friends to meet you. If you would feel more +comfortable in town clothes, I think the tailor to whom I am taking you +will be able to arrange that. He makes special preparations for such +emergencies." + +"I will do what you think best," John agreed. + +They spent the morning in the neighborhood of Bond Street, and John laid +the foundations of a wardrobe more extensive than any he had ever +dreamed of possessing. At half past one they were shown into Louise's +little dressing room. There were three or four men already present, +standing around their hostess and sipping some faint yellow cordial from +long Venetian glasses. + +Louise came forward to meet them, and made a little grimace as she +remarked the change in John's appearance. + +"Honestly, I don't know you, and I don't believe I like you at all!" she +exclaimed. "How dare you transform yourself into a tailor's dummy in +this fashion?" + +"It was entirely out of respect to you," John said. + +"In fact," the prince added, "we considered that we had achieved rather +a success." + +"I suppose I must look upon your effort as a compliment," Louise sighed, +"but it seems queer to lose even so much of you. Shall you take up our +manners and our habits, Mr. Strangewey, as easily as you wear our +clothes?" + +"That I cannot promise," he replied. + +"The brain should adapt itself at least as readily as the body," the +prince remarked. + +M. Graillot, who was one of the three men present, turned around. + +"Who is talking platitudes?" he demanded. "I write plays, and that is my +monopoly. Ah, it is the prince, I see! And our young friend who +interrupted us at rehearsal yesterday." + +"And whom I am anxious to have you meet again," Louise intervened. "You +remember his name, perhaps--Mr. John Strangewey." + +Graillot held out his left hand to the prince and his right to John. + +"Mr. Strangewey," he said, "I congratulate you! Any person who has the +good fortune to interest Miss Maurel is to be congratulated. Yet must I +look at you and feel myself puzzled. You are not an artist--no? You do +not paint or write?" + +John shook his head. + +"Mr. Strangewey's claim to distinction is that he is just an ordinary +man," Louise observed. "Such a relief, you know, after all you clever +people! And that reminds me, Miles," she added, turning to the actor, "I +asked you here, too, especially to meet Mr. Strangewey again. Mr. +Faraday is one of the most dangerous guides in London a young man could +have. He knows everybody and everything unknowable and yet worth +knowing. I present him to you as a hero. He is going to make love to me +three hours a night for very many nights, we hope." + +John shook hands with everybody and sipped the contents of the glass +which had been handed to him. Then a butler opened the door and +announced luncheon. Louise offered her hand to the prince, who stepped +back. + +"It shall be the privilege of the stranger within our gates," he +decided. + +Louise turned to John with a little smile. + +"Let me show you, then, the way to my dining room. I ought to apologize +for not asking some women to meet you. I tried two on the telephone, but +they were engaged." + +"I will restore the balance," the prince promised, turning from the +contemplation of one of the prints hanging in the hall. "I am giving a +supper party to-night for Mr. Strangewey, and I will promise him a +preponderance of your charming sex." + +"Am I invited?" Louise inquired. + +The prince shook his head. + +"Alas, no!" + +They passed into a small dining room, and here again John noticed that +an absolute simplicity was paramount. The carpet was of some dark, +almost indistinguishable color. The walls were white, hung with three or +four French etchings in black reed frames. At one end a curved window +looked out upon a vista of green trees and shrubs, and the recess was +completely filled in with what appeared to be almost a grotto of +flowers. The round table, covered with an exquisitely fine cloth, was +very simply laid. There was a little glass of the finest quality, and a +very little silver. For flowers there was only one bowl, a brilliant +patch of some scarlet exotic, in the center. + +"A supper party to which I am not invited," said Louise, as she took her +place at the table and motioned John to a seat by her side, "fills me +with curiosity. Who are to be your guests, prince?" + +"Calavera and her sprites," the prince announced. + +Louise paused for a moment in the act of helping herself to _hors +d'oeuvres_. She glanced toward the prince. He was busy studying the menu +through his eyeglass. + +"By her sprites you mean--" + +"The young ladies of her wonderful ballet," the prince replied. "I am +also dipping into musical comedy for a few of my guests. Calavera, +however, is to be the _pièce de résistance_." + +The prince dropped his eye-glass and glanced toward his hostess. For a +moment their eyes met. Louise's lips were faintly curled. It was almost +as if a challenge had passed between them. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she said, turning to John, "let me warn you. You are +to meet to-night a woman for whom kings are reported to sigh in vain, at +whose feet the _jeunesse dorée_ of the world pours out its riches. Is +it kind of the prince, I wonder, to try and seal your fate so soon?" + +John laughed easily. He met the challenge in her eyes and answered it. + +"If you are talking of the great Calavera," he said, "she will be far +too wonderful a lady to take any notice of a yokel like myself. And +besides--" + +"Besides?" the prince intervened. + +"I have only seen her photographs and read of her," John remarked, "but +I don't think she would attract me very much." + +They all laughed. Graillot leaned across the table. + +"My young friend," he exclaimed, "pray to your presiding genius, the +presiding genius that won for you the friendship of our hostess, that +Calavera never hears that speech, or within a week you will be at her +chariot-wheels! I have seen many women and loved many, but there are +none like Calavera. In her way she is the greatest artist that ever +breathed. As for her beauty, wait till you see her! She has a body which +makes me close my eyes and dream of Greece; eyes such as one seldom sees +save in a few parts of southern Spain; and as for her smile--well, if I +go on I shall begin to tell stories of her victims and neglect my +lunch." + +The conversation drifted away to reminiscences of other great dancers. +Louise, under its cover, devoted her attention to her guest, + +"First of all," she asked, "tell me how you like my little friend?" + +"I think she is charming," John answered without hesitation. "We went to +a supper club last night and stayed there till about half past three." + +"A supper club?" + +John nodded. + +"I have forgotten the name of the place, but they made me a member. It +was great fun. We had some more champagne, and Sophy danced. I found a +young man there whom I used to know." + +"Really," said Louise, "I am not sure that I approve of this! A supper +club with Sophy until half past three in the morning!" + +He looked at her quickly. + +"You don't mind?" + +"My dear man, why should I mind?" she returned. "What concern is it of +mine if you and Sophy care to amuse each other? It is exactly what I +hoped for." + +"That's all right, then," John declared, with a sigh of relief. "Do you +know," he went on, lowering his voice, "that I am just a little +disappointed about today?" + +"Disappointed? After I have taken the trouble to give a luncheon party +for you?" + +"I should have thought it a greater compliment, and liked it better, if +you had asked me to lunch with you alone," he said. + +She shook her head. + +"It would have been a wasted opportunity. You have come up to London +with a purpose. You have an experiment to make, an experiment in living. +All these men can help you." + +"The greater part of my experiment," he pointed out, "needs the help of +only one person, and that person is you." + +She moved a little uneasily in her chair. It might have been his fancy, +but he imagined that she glanced under her eyelids toward the Prince of +Seyre. The prince, however, had turned almost ostentatiously away from +her. He was leaning across the table, talking to Faraday. + +"You have not lost your gift of plain speech," she observed. + +"I hope I never shall," he declared. "It seems to me to be the simplest +and the best plan, after all, to say what you feel and to ask for what +you want." + +"So delightful in Cumberland and Utopia," she sighed; "so impracticable +here!" + +"Then since we can't find Utopia, come back to Cumberland," he +suggested. + +A reminiscent smile played for a moment about her lips. + +"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I shall ever again see that dear, +wonderful old house of yours, and the mist on the hills, and the stars +shining here and there through it, and the moon coming up in the +distance!" + +"All these things you will see again," he assured her confidently. "It +is because I want you to see them again that I am here." + +"Just now, at this minute, I feel a longing for them," she whispered, +looking across the table, out of the window, to the softly waving trees. + +At the close of the luncheon, a servant handed around coffee and +liqueurs. The prince turned to Louise. + +"You must not keep our young friend too late," he said. "He has +appointments with his tailor and other myrmidons who have undertaken to +adorn his person." + +"Alas," replied Louise, rising, "I, too, have to go early to my +dressmaker's. Do the honors for me, prince, will you?--and I will make +my adieus now." + +They all rose. She nodded to Graillot and Faraday. The prince moved to +stand by the door. For a moment she and John were detached from the +others. + +"I want to see you alone," he said under his breath. "When can I?" + +She hesitated. + +"I am so busy!" she murmured. "Next week there are rehearsals nearly +every minute of the day." + +"To-morrow," John said insistently. "You have no rehearsals then. I must +see you. I must talk to you without this crowd." + +It was his moment. Her half-formed resolutions fell away before the +compelling ring in his voice and the earnest pleading in his eyes. + +"I will be in," she promised, "to-morrow at six o'clock." + + + + + XIV + + +After the departure of her guests, Louise seemed to forget the pressing +appointment with her dressmaker. She stood before the window of her +drawing-room, looking down into the street. She saw Faraday hail a +taxicab and drive off by himself. She watched the prince courteously +motion John to precede him into his waiting automobile. She saw the two +men seat themselves side by side, and the footman close the door and +take his place beside the chauffeur. She watched until the car took its +place in the stream of traffic and disappeared. The sense of uneasiness +which had brought her to the window was unaccountable, but it seemed in +some way deepened by their departure together. Then a voice from just +behind suddenly startled her. + +"Lest your reverie, dear lady, should end in spoken words not meant for +my ears, I, who often give myself up to reveries, hasten to acquaint you +with the fact of my presence." + +She turned quickly around. It was Graillot who had returned noiselessly +into the room. + +"You?" she exclaimed. "Why, I thought you were the first to leave." + +"I returned," Graillot explained. "An impulse brought me back. A thought +came into my mind. I wanted to share it with you as a proof of the +sentiment which I feel exists between us. It is my firm belief that the +same thought, in a different guise, was traveling through your mind, as +you watched the departure of your guests." + +She motioned him to a place upon the couch, close to where she had +already seated herself. + +"Come," she invited, "prove to me that you are a thought-reader!" + +He sank back in his corner. His hands, with their short, stubby fingers, +were clasped in front of him. His eyes, wide open and alert, seemed +fixed upon her with the ingenuous inquisitiveness of a child. + +"To begin, then, I find our friend, the Prince of Seyre, a most +interesting, I might almost say a most fascinating, study." + +Louise did not reply. After a moment's pause he continued: + +"Let me tell you something which may or may not be unknown to you. A +matter of eighty years ago, there was first kindled in the country +places of France that fire which ultimately blazed over the whole land, +devastating, murderous, anarchic, yet purifying. The family seat of the +house of Seyre was near Orléans. In that region were many oppressors of +the poor who, when they heard the mutterings of the storm, shivered for +their safety. Upon not one of them did that furious mob of men and women +pause to waste a single moment of their time. Without even a spoken word +save one simultaneous, unanimous yell, they grouped together from all +quarters--from every hamlet, from every homestead, men and women and +even children--and moved in one solid body upon the Château de Seyre. +The old prince would have been burned alive but for a servant who threw +him a pistol, with which he blew out his brains, spitting at the mob. +One of the sons was caught and torn almost to pieces. Only the father +of our friend, the present Prince of Seyre, escaped." + +"Why do you tell me all this?" Louise asked, shivering. "It is such a +chapter of horrors!" + +"It illustrates a point," Graillot replied. "Among the whole aristocracy +of France there was no family so loathed and detested as the _seigneurs_ +of Seyre. Those at the _château_, and others who were arrested in Paris, +met their death with singular contempt and calm. Eugène of Seyre, whose +character in my small way I have studied, is of the same breed." + +Louise took up a fan which lay on the table by her side, and waved it +carelessly in front of her face. + +"One does so love," she murmured, "to hear one's friends discussed in +this friendly spirit!" + +"It is because Eugène of Seyre is a friend of yours that I am talking to +you in this fashion," Graillot continued. "You have also another +friend--this young man from Cumberland." + +"Well?" + +"In him," Graillot went on, "one perceives all the primitive qualities +which go to the making of splendid manhood. Physically he is almost +perfect, for which alone we owe him a debt of gratitude. He has, if I +judge him rightly, all the qualities possessed by men who have been +brought up free from the taint of cities, from the smear of our spurious +over-civilization. He is chivalrous and unsuspicious. He is also, +unfortunately for him, the enemy of the prince." + +Louise laid down her fan. She no longer tried to conceal her agitation. + +"Why are you so melodramatic?" she demanded. "They have scarcely spoken. +This is, I think, their third meeting." + +"When two friends," Graillot declared, "desire the same woman, then all +of friendship that there may have been between them is buried. When two +others, who are so far from being friends that they possess opposite +qualities, opposite characters, opposite characteristics, also desire +the same woman--" + +"Don't!" Louise interrupted, with a sudden little scream. "Don't! You +are talking wildly. You must not say such things!" + +Graillot leaned forward. He shook his head very slowly; his heavy hand +rested upon her shoulder. + +"Ah, no, dear lady," he insisted, "I am not talking wildly. I am +Graillot, who for thirty years have written dramas on one subject and +one subject only--men and women. It has been given to me to study many +varying types of the human race, to watch the outcome of many strange +situations. I have watched the prince draw you nearer and nearer to him. +What there is or may be between you I do not know. It is not for me to +know. But if not now, some day Eugène of Seyre means you to be his, and +he is not a person to be lightly resisted. Now from the skies there +looms up this sudden obstacle." + +"You do not realize," Louise protested, almost eagerly, "how slight is +my acquaintance with Mr. Strangewey. I once spent the night and a few +hours of the next morning at his house in Cumberland, and that is all I +have ever seen of him. How can his presence here be of any serious +import to Eugène?" + +"As to that," Graillot replied, "I say nothing. If what I have suggested +does not exist, then for the first time in my life I have made a +mistake; but I do not think I have. You may not realize it, but there is +before you one of those struggles that make or mar the life of women of +every age. As for the men, I will only say this, and it is because of it +that I have spoken at all--I am a lover of fair play, and the struggle +is not even. The younger man may hold every card in the pack, but Eugène +of Seyre has learned how to win tricks without aces. I stayed behind to +say this to you, Louise. You know the young man and I do not. It is you +who must warn him." + +"Warn him?" Louise repeated, with upraised eyebrows. "Dear master, +aren't we just a little--do you--melodramatic? The age of duels is past, +also the age of hired bravos and assassins." + +"Agreed," Graillot interrupted, "but the weapons of to-day are more +dangerous. It is the souls of their enemies that men attack. If I were a +friend of that young man's I would say to him: 'Beware, not of the +enmity of Eugène of Seyre, but of his friendship!' And now, dear lady, I +have finished. I lingered behind because the world holds no more sincere +admirer of yourself and your genius than I. Don't ring. May I not let +myself out?" + +"Stop!" Louise begged. + +Graillot resumed his seat. He watched with an almost painful curiosity +the changes in Louise's face, which was convulsed by a storm of +passionate apprehension. Yet behind it all he could see the truth. There +was something softer in her face than he had ever perceived before, a +tenderer light than he had ever seen in her eyes. He sighed and looked +down at the carpet. + +Louise rose presently and walked abruptly to the window. Then she came +back and reseated herself by his side. + +"You are the one friend I have in life who understands, dear master," +she said. "Do I weary you if I speak?" + +He looked steadfastly into her eyes. His plain, bearded face was +heavy-browed, lined, tired a little with the coming of age. + +"Louise," he declared, "it is only because I dare not lift my thoughts +and eyes any higher that I count myself the greatest friend you ever +could have in life!" + +She caught at his hand, her head drooped a little. + +"Don't overpower me," she faltered. "I can't--no, I can't!" + +He watched in silence the twitching of her lips, the filling of her +eyes. A momentary remorse struck him. Why should he afflict her at this +moment with his own secret? He closed his eyes, and deliberately shut +out the vision which had lured his tongue into the byways of unwonted +sentiment. He spoke firmly and without emotion. + +"Louise," he begged, "let me be your confidant! No man knows more of the +game of life as it is played out between men and women. There is no one +in whom you can place a greater trust." + +Her fingers clutched his, her nails dug into his palm, but he did not +flinch. + +"I do not know," she murmured, her voice trembling with agitation. "That +is the truth of it all. I do not know where to go for guidance or +inspiration. Life has suddenly become mysterious. Men seem always so +strong and sure. It is only we poor women who lose our bearings." + +Graillot patted her hands tenderly. Then he rose to his feet. + +"You are not going?" she asked him. + +"Dear Louise," he said, "I am going, because the time when I can help +is not yet. Listen! More harm has been done in this world by advice than +in any other way. I have no advice to give you. You have one sure and +certain guide, and that is your own heart, your own instincts, your own +sweet consciousness of what is best. I leave you to that. If trouble +comes, I am always ready!" + + + + + XV + + +During the remainder of that afternoon and evening John was oppressed by +a vague sense of the splendor of his surroundings and his companion's +mysterious capacity for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to the +tailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot-makers almost +resembled a royal progress. All difficulties were waved aside. That +night he dined, clothed like other men from head to foot, in the lofty +dining room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. The prince +proved an agreeable if somewhat reticent companion. He introduced John +to many well-known people, always with that little note of personal +interest in his few words of presentation which gave a certain +significance to the ceremony. + +From the club, where the question of John's proposed membership, the +prince acting as his sponsor, was favorably discussed with several +members of the committee, they drove to Covent Garden, and for the first +time in his life John entered the famous opera-house. The prince, +preceded by an attendant, led the way to a box upon the second tier. A +woman turned her head as they entered and stretched out her hand, which +the prince raised to his lips. + +"You see, I have taken you at your word, Eugène," she remarked. "So many +evenings I have looked longingly from my stall at your empty box. +To-night I summoned up all my courage, and here I am!" + +"You give me a double pleasure, dear lady," the prince declared. "Not +only is it a joy to be your host, but you give me also the opportunity +of presenting to you my friend, John Strangewey. Strangewey, this is my +very distant relative and very dear friend, Lady Hilda Mulloch." + +Lady Hilda smiled graciously at John. She was apparently of a little +less than middle age, with dark bands of chestnut hair surmounted by a +tiara. Her face was the face of a clever and still beautiful woman; her +figure slender and dignified; her voice low and delightful. + +"Are you paying your nightly homage to Calavera, Mr. Strangewey, or are +you only an occasional visitor?" she asked. + +"This is my first visit of any sort to Covent Garden," John told her. + +She looked at him with as much surprise as good breeding permitted. +John, who had not as yet sat down, seemed almost preternaturally tall in +that small box, with its low ceiling. He was looking around the house +with the enthusiasm of a boy. Lady Hilda glanced away from him toward +the prince, and smiled; then she looked back at John. There was +something like admiration in her face. + +"Do you live abroad?" she asked. + +John shook his head. + +"I live in Cumberland," he said. "Many people here seem to think that +that is the same thing. My brother and I have a farm there." + +"But you visit London occasionally, surely?" + +"I have not been in London," John told her, "since I passed through it +on my way home from Oxford, eight years ago." + +"But why not?" she persisted. + +John laughed a little. + +"Well, really," he admitted, "when I come to think of it seriously, I +scarcely know. I have lived alone with an elder brother, who hates +London and would be very unhappy if I got into the way of coming up +regularly. I fancy that I have rather grown into his way of thinking. I +am quite satisfied--or rather I have been quite satisfied--to live down +there all the year round." + +"I have never heard anything so extraordinary in my life!" the woman +declared frankly. "Is it the prince who has induced you to break out of +your seclusion?" + +"Our young friend," the prince explained, "finds himself suddenly in +altered circumstances. He has been left a large fortune, and has come to +spend it. Incidentally, I hope, he has come to see something more of +your sex than is possible among his mountain wilds. He has come, in +short, to look a little way into life." + +Lady Hilda leaned back in her chair. + +"How romantic!" + +"The prince amuses himself," John assured her. "I don't suppose I shall +stay very long in London. I want just to try it for a time." + +She looked at him almost wistfully. She was a woman with brains; a woman +notorious for the freedom of her life, for her intellectual gifts, for +her almost brutal disregard of the conventions of her class. The +psychological interest of John Strangewey's situation appealed to her +powerfully. Besides, she had a weakness for handsome men. + +"Of course, it all sounds like a fairy tale," she declared. "Tell me +exactly, please, how long you have been in London." + +"About forty-eight hours," he answered. + +"And what did you do last night?" + +"I dined with two friends, we went to the Palace, and one of them took +me to a supper club." + +She made a little grimace. + +"You began in somewhat obvious fashion," she remarked. + +"I can vouch for the friends," the prince observed, smiling. + +"At any rate," said Lady Hilda, "I am glad to think that I shall be able +to watch you when you see Calavera dance for the first time." + +The curtain rang up upon one of the most gorgeous and sensuous of the +Russian ballets. John, who by their joint insistence was occupying the +front chair in the box, leaned forward in his place, his eyes +steadfastly fixed upon the stage. Both the prince and Lady Hilda, in the +background, although they occasionally glanced at the performance, +devoted most of their attention to watching him. + +As the story progressed and the music grew in passion and +voluptuousness, they distinctly saw his almost militant protest. They +saw the knitting of his firm mouth and the slight contraction of his +eyebrows. The prince and his friend exchanged glances. She drew her +chair a little farther back, and he followed her example. + +"Where did you find anything so wonderful as this?" she murmured. + +"Lost among the hills in Cumberland," the prince replied. "I have an +estate up there--in fact, he and I are joint lords of the manor of the +village in which he has lived." + +"And you?" she whispered, glancing at John to be sure that she was not +overheard. "Where do you come in? An educator of the young? I don't +seem to see you in that rôle!" + +A very rare and by no means pleasant smile twisted the corners of his +lips for a moment. + +"It is a long story." + +"Can I be brought in?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"It rests with you. It would suit my plans." + +She toyed with her fan for a moment, looked restlessly at the stage and +back again at John. Then she rose from her place and stood before the +looking-glass. From the greater obscurity of the box she motioned to the +prince. + +John remained entirely heedless of their movements. His eyes were still +riveted upon the stage, fascinated with the wonderful coloring, the +realization of a new art. + +"You and I," Lady Hilda whispered, "do not need to play about with the +truth, Eugène. What are you doing this for?" + +"The idlest whim," the prince assured her quietly. "Look at him. Think +for a moment of his position--absolutely without experience, entirely +ignorant about women, with a fortune one only dreams of, and probably +the handsomest animal in London. What is going to become of him?" + +"I think I understand a little," she confessed. + +"I think you do," the prince assented. "He has views, this young man. It +is my humor to see them dissipated. The modern _Sir Galahad_ always +irritated me a little." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"They'll never give him a chance, these women," she said. "Much better +hand him over to me." + +The prince smiled enigmatically, and Lady Hilda returned to her seat. +John was still leaning forward with his eyes fixed upon Calavera, who +was dancing alone now. The ballet was drawing toward the end. The music +had reached its climax of wild and passionate sensuousness, dominated +and inspired by the woman whose every movement and every glance seemed +part of some occult, dimly understood language. + +When the curtain rang down, John, like many others, was confused. +Nevertheless, after that first breathless pause, he stood up and joined +in the tumultuous applause. + +"Well?" the prince asked. + +John shook his head. "I don't know," he answered. + +"Neither does any one else," Lady Hilda said. "Don't try to analyze your +impressions for our benefit, Mr. Strangewey. I am exactly in your +position, and I have been here a dozen times. Even to us hardened men +and women of the world, this Russian music came as a surprise. There +were parts of it you did not like, though, weren't there?" + +"There were parts of it I hated," John agreed. "There were passages that +seemed to aim at discord in every sense of the word." + +She nodded sympathetically. They were on their way down the broad +staircase. + +"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I am going to be asked out to +supper?" + +"Alas, not to-night, dear lady," the prince regretted. "I am having a +few friends at Seyre House." + +She shot a glance at him and shrugged her shoulders. She was evidently +displeased. + +"How much too bad!" she exclaimed. "I am not at all sure that it is +right of you to invite Mr. Strangewey to one of your orgies. A +respectable little supper at the Carlton, and a cigarette in my library +afterward, would have been a great deal better for both of +you--certainly for Mr. Strangewey. I think I shall run away with him, as +it is!" + +The prince shrugged his shoulders. + +"It is unfortunate," he sighed, "but we are both engaged. If you will +give us the opportunity some other evening--" + +"I am not at all sure that I shall have anything more to do with you, +Eugène," she declared. "You are not behaving nicely. Will you come and +see me while you are in town, Mr. Strangewey?" she added, turning to +John. "I suppose you can be trusted to reach No. 21 Pont Street without +your Mephistophelian chaperon?" + +"I should like to very much," he replied. "I think," he added, a little +hesitatingly, "that I have read one of your books of travel. It is very +interesting to meet you." + +"So my fame has really reached Cumberland!" she laughed. "You must come +and talk to me one afternoon quite soon. Will you? I want so much to +hear your impressions of London. I am always in between six and seven; +or if you want to come earlier, I will try to be in if you telephone." + +"I will come with pleasure," John promised. + +They stood for a few moments in the crowded vestibule until Lady Hilda +Mulloch's car was called. The prince stood back, allowing John to escort +her to the door. She detained him for a moment after she had taken her +seat, and leaned out of the window, her fingers still in his hand. + +"Be careful!" she whispered. "The prince's supper parties are just a +little--shall I say banal? There are better things if one waits!" + + + + + XVI + + +The reception-rooms of Seyre House, by some people considered the finest +in London, were crowded that night by a brilliant and cosmopolitan +assembly. For some time John stood by the prince's side and was +introduced to more people than he had ever met before in his life. +Presently, however, he was discovered by his friend Amerton. + +"Queer thing your being here, a friend of the prince and all that!" the +young man remarked. "Where's Miss Sophy this evening?" + +"I haven't seen her," John replied. "I don't believe she is invited." + +"Did you hear that Calavera is coming?" Amerton inquired. + +John nodded. + +"She's expected any moment. I wonder what she's like off the stage!" + +"You wait and see," Lord Amerton sighed. "There isn't another woman in +Europe to touch her. Why, they say that even our host is one of her +victims. Like to be introduced to some of the girls, or shall we go and +have a drink?" + +John was hesitating when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. The prince's +voice sounded in his ear. + +"Strangewey," he said, "I am privileged to present you to Mme. Aida +Calavera. _Madame_, this is the friend of whom I spoke to you." + +John turned away from the little group of girls and young men toward +whom Amerton had been leading him. Even though the prince's speech had +given him a moment's breathing-space, he felt himself constrained to +pause before he made his bow of ceremony. + +The woman was different from anything he had imagined, from anything he +had ever seen. In the ballet a writhing, sensuous figure with every +gesture a note in the octave of passion, here she seemed the very +personification of a negative and striking immobility. She was slender, +not so tall as she had seemed upon the stage, dressed in white from head +to foot. Her face was almost marblelike in its pallor, her smooth, black +hair was drawn tightly over her ears, and her eyes were of the deepest +shade of blue. + +During that momentary pause, while he searched among a confused mixture +of sensations for some formula of polite speech, John found time to +liken her in his mind to something Egyptian. She raised her hand, as he +bowed, with a gesture almost royal in its condescension. The prince, +with quiet tact, bridged over the moment during which John struggled in +vain for something to say. + +"Mr. Strangewey," he remarked, "paid his first visit to Covent Garden +to-night. He has seen his first ballet, as we moderns understand the +term. I cannot help envying him that delight. He naturally finds it +difficult to realize this additional good fortune. Will you excuse me +for one moment?" + +The prince departed to welcome some later arrivals. The noisy little +group standing close at hand, from which John had been diverted, passed +on into the refreshment-room, and the two were, for a few moments, +almost isolated. + +Even then John felt himself tongue-tied. Standing where she was, with +that background of dark oil-paintings lit only by shaded electric lamps, +she was more than ever like a wonderful old Egyptian statue into which +some measure of slow-moving life had been breathed. He recognized almost +with wonder the absence of any ornament of any sort on her neck or +fingers. + +"You were pleased with the performance, I hope?" + +Her voice was in character with her personality. It was extremely low, +scarcely louder than a whisper. To his surprise, it was almost wholly +free from any foreign accent. + +"It was very wonderful," John answered. + +"You understood the story?" + +"Only partly," he confessed. + +"Would you have recognized me, seeing me as you do now?" + +"Never in the world," he assured her. + +"Tell me why I am so different off the stage." + +"On the stage," he replied, "you seem to me to be the embodiment of wild +movement. Here, you seem--forgive me--to be a statue. I can scarcely +believe that you walked across the room." + +"It is my pose," she said calmly. + +"Then you are a great actress as well as a great dancer," he declared. + +For the first time the plastic calm of her features seemed disturbed. +She smiled, but even her smile seemed to him more like some mechanically +contrived alteration in the facial expression of a statue than anything +natural or spontaneous. + +"The prince tells me," she continued, "that you are a stranger in +London. Give me your arm. We will walk to a quieter place. In a few +moments we are to be disturbed for supper. One eats so often and so +much in this country. Why do I say that, though? It is not so bad as in +Russia." + +They passed across the polished wood floor into a little room with +Oriental fittings, where a lamp was swinging from the ceiling, giving +out a dim but pleasant light. The place was empty, and the sound of the +music and voices seemed to come from a distance. She sank down upon a +divan back among the shadows, and motioned John to sit by her side. + +"You have come to find out, to understand--is that not so?" she +inquired. "What you know of life, the prince tells me, you have learned +from books. Now you have come to discover what more than that there is +to be learned in the world of men and women." + +"Did the prince tell you all this?" John asked. + +"He did," she admitted. "He seems much interested in you." + +"He has been very kind," John said. + +She turned her head slowly and looked at him. + +"A young man to whom the prince chooses to be kind is, in a way, +fortunate," she said. "I think he knows more of life than any other +person whom I ever met." + +"You have known him for long?" + +"In Budapest, five years ago; in Russia, the season afterward; then in +Paris; in Petersburg again, and now in London. The prince has been a +faithful friend. He came once from Florence to Petersburg, to be present +at my first night at the opera. Always he impresses me the same way. +There is very little in life, in men or in women, which he does not +understand. Let us return to what we were speaking about. I find it very +interesting." + +"You are very kind," John declared. + +"What you will learn here," she went on, "depends very much upon +yourself. Are you intelligent? Perhaps not very," she added, looking at +him critically. "You have brains, however, without a doubt. You have +also what places you at once _en rapport_ with the cult of the +moment--you are wonderfully good-looking." + +John moved a little uneasily in his place. He felt that the dancer's +eyes were fixed upon him, and he was feverishly anxious not to respond +to the invitation of their gaze. He was conscious, too, of the queer, +indefinable fascination of her near presence in the dimly lighted room. + +"What you will learn," she proceeded, "depends very much upon your +desires. If you seek for the best, and are content with nothing else, +you will find it. But so few men are content to wait!" + +"I intend to," John said simply. + +"Look at me, please," she ordered. + +Once more he was compelled to look into her deep-blue eyes. The +incomprehensible smile was still upon her lips. + +"You have loved?" + +"No," he answered, taken a little aback by the abruptness of the +question. + +"You grow more wonderful! How old are you, may I ask?" + +"Twenty-eight." + +"At the present moment, then, you are free from any distracting thoughts +about women? You have no entanglements?" + +"I have nothing of the sort," John declared, almost irritably. "There is +one person who has made a wonderful change in my life. I believe I could +say that I am absolutely certain of my feelings for her, but so far she +has not given me much encouragement. Tell me, _madame_, why do you ask +me these questions?" + +"Because it interests me," she replied. "Why do you not insist that this +lady should tell you the truth?" + +"I have come to London to insist," he told her, "but I have been here +only forty-eight hours." + +"So you are waiting?" + +"I am waiting," he assented. + +"So many people spend their lives doing that," she went on presently. +"It does not appeal to me. The moment I make up my mind that I want a +thing, I take it. The moment I make up my mind to give, I give." + +John was suddenly conscious of the closeness of the atmosphere. The +fingers of his hands were clenched tightly together. He swore to himself +that he would not look into this woman's face. He listened to the band +which was playing in the balcony of the great hall, to the murmur of the +voices, the shouts of laughter. He told himself that Mme. Calavera was +amusing herself with him. + +"The prince's party," she continued, after a long pause, "seems to be a +great success, to judge by the noise they are making. So many people +shout and laugh when they are happy. I myself find a more perfect +expression of happiness in silence." + +She was leaning a little back in her place. One arm was resting upon a +pile of cushions, the other hung loosely over the side of the divan. +John felt a sudden desire to rise to his feet, and a simultaneous +consciousness that his feet seemed to be made of lead. + +"You may hold my fingers," she said; "and please keep your face turned +toward me. Why are you nervous? I am not very formidable." + +He took her fingers, very much as the prince had done upon her arrival, +and pressed them formally to his lips. Then he released them and rose. + +"You know," he confessed, "I am very stupid at this sort of thing. Shall +we go back to the reception rooms? I shall be the most unpopular man +here if I keep you any longer." + +The smile deepened slightly. Little lines appeared at the sides of her +eyes. So far from being annoyed, he could see that she was laughing. + +"Joseph," she mocked, "I am not tempting you, really! Do sit down. I +have met men in many countries, but none like you. So you do not wish to +accept those small privileges which a woman may offer when she chooses?" + +"I believe--in fact, I am almost certain--that I love the woman I have +come to London to see," John declared. + +"You get more and more interesting," she murmured. "Don't you realize +that your love for one woman should make you kind to all?" + +"No, I don't," he answered bluntly. + +"Come," she said, "do not be afraid of me. I will not make love to +you--seriously. You must be kind to me because everybody spoils me. +After supper there are one or two more questions I must ask you. Do you +know that I am going to dance here? Never before have I danced in a +private house in England. Except upon the stage, I like to dance only to +those whom I love!" + +The little space between the curtains was suddenly darkened. John turned +eagerly around, and, to his immense relief, recognized the prince. +Their host came forward to where they were sitting, and held out his arm +to Calavera. + +"Dear lady," he announced, "supper is served. Will you do me this great +honor?" + +She rose to her feet. The prince turned to John. + +"This is my privilege as host," he explained; "but if you will follow +us, you will find some consolation in store for you." + + + + + XVII + + +"Well?" the prince asked, as he handed Aida Calavera to her place at his +right hand. + +"I think not," she replied. + +He raised his eyebrows slightly. For a moment he glanced down the +supper-table with the care of a punctilious host, to see that his guests +were properly seated. He addressed a few trivialities to the +musical-comedy star who was sitting on his left. Then he leaned once +more toward the great dancer. + +"You surprise me," he said. "I should have thought that the enterprise +would have commended itself to you. You do not doubt the facts?" + +"They are obvious enough," she replied. "The young man is all that you +say, even more ingenuous than I had believed possible, but I fancy I +must be getting old. He tried to tell me that he was in love with +another woman, and I felt suddenly powerless. I think I must be getting +to that age when one prefers to achieve one's conquests with the lifting +of a finger." + +The prince sighed. + +"I shall never understand your sex!" he declared. "I should have +supposed that the slight effort of resistance such a young man might +make would have provided just the necessary stimulus to complete his +subjection." + +She turned her beautiful head and looked at the prince through narrowed +eyes. + +"After all," she asked, "what should I gain? I am not like a child who +robs an insect of life for a few moments' amusement. Even if I have no +conscience, it gives me no pleasure to be wanton. Besides, the young man +is, in his way, a splendid work of art. Why should I be vandal enough to +destroy it? I shall ask you another question." + +The prince slowly sipped the wine from the glass that he was holding to +his lips. Then he set it down deliberately. + +"Why not?" + +"What is your interest? Is it a bet, a whim, or--enmity?" + +"You may count it the latter," the prince replied deliberately. + +Calavera laughed softly to herself. + +"Now, for the first time," she confessed, "I feel interest. This is +where one realizes that we live in the most impossible age of all +history. The great noble who seeks to destroy the poor young man from +the country is powerless to wreak harm upon him. You can neither make +him a pauper nor have him beaten to death. Why are there princes any +longer, I wonder? You are only as other men." + +"It is an unhappy reflection, but it is the truth," the prince admitted. +"My ancestors would have disposed of this young man as I should a +troublesome fly, and it would have cost them no more than a few silver +pieces and a cask of wine. To-day, alas, conditions are different. It +will cost me more." + +She trifled for a moment with the salad upon her plate, which as yet she +had scarcely tasted. + +"I am feeling," she remarked, "magnificently Oriental--like Cleopatra. +The sensation pleases me. We are bargaining, are we not--" + +"We shall not bargain," the prince interrupted softly. "It is you who +shall name your price." + +She raised her eyes and dropped them again. + +"The prince has spoken," she murmured. + +He touched her fingers for a moment with his, as if to seal their +compact; then he turned once more to the lady upon his left. + +Seyre House was one of the few mansions in London which boasted a +banqueting-hall as well as a picture-gallery. Although the long table +was laid for forty guests, it still seemed, with its shaded lights and +its profusion of flowers, like an oasis of color in the middle of the +huge, somberly lighted apartment. The penny illustrated papers, whose +contributors know more of the doings of London society than anybody +else, always hinted in mysterious terms at the saturnalian character of +the prince's supper parties. John, who had heard a few whispers +beforehand, and whose interest in his surroundings was keen and intense, +wondered whether this company of beautiful women and elegant men were +indeed a modern revival of those wonderful creations of Boccaccio, to +whom they had so often been likened. + +Some of the faces of the guests were well known to him through their +published photographs; to others he had been presented by the prince +upon their arrival. He was seated between a young American star of +musical comedy and a lady who had only recently dropped from the social +firmament through the medium of the divorce-court, to return to the +theater of her earlier fame. Both showed every desire to converse with +him between the intervals of eating and drinking, but were constantly +brought to a pause by John's lack of knowledge of current topics. After +her third glass of champagne, the lady who had recently been a countess +announced her intention of taking him under her wing. + +"Some one must tell you all about things," she insisted. "What you need +is a guide and a chaperon. Won't I do?" + +"Perfectly," he agreed. + +"Fair play!" protested the young lady on his left, whose name was Rosie +Sharon. "I spoke to him first!" + +"Jolly bad luck!" Lord Amerton drawled from the other side of the table. +"Neither of you have an earthly. He's booked. Saw him out with her the +other evening." + +"I sha'n't eat any more supper," Rosie Sharon pouted, pushing away her +plate. + +"You ought to have told us about her at once," the lady who had been a +countess declared severely. + +John preserved his equanimity. + +"It is to be presumed," he murmured, "that you ladies are both free from +any present attachment?" + +"Got you there!" Amerton chuckled. "What about Billy?" + +Rosie Sharon sighed. + +"We don't come to the prince's supper parties to remember our ties," she +declared. "Let's all go on talking nonsense, please. Even if my heart is +broken, I could never resist the prince's _pâté_!" + +Apparently every one was of the same mind. The hum of laughter steadily +grew. Jokes, mostly in the nature of personalities, were freely bandied +across the table. It was becoming obvious that the contributors to the +penny illustrated papers knew what they were talking about. Under +shelter of the fire of conversation, the prince leaned toward his +companion and reopened their previous discussion. + +"Do you know," he began, "I am inclined to be somewhat disappointed by +your lack of enthusiasm in a certain direction!" + +"I have disappointed many men in my time," she replied. "Do you doubt my +power, now that I have promised to exercise it?" + +"Who could?" he replied courteously. "Yet this young man poses, I +believe, as something of a St. Anthony. He may give you trouble." + +"He is then, what you call a prig?" + +"A most complete and perfect specimen, even in this nation of prigs!" + +"All that you tell me," she sighed, "makes the enterprise seem easier. +It is, after all, rather like the lioness and the mouse, isn't it?" + +The prince made no reply, but upon his lips there lingered a faintly +incredulous smile. The woman by his side leaned back in her place. She +had the air of accepting a challenge. + +"After supper," she said, "we will see!" + + * * * * * + +A single chord of music in a minor key floated across the room, soft at +first, swelling later into a volume of sound, then dying away and +ceasing altogether. John, standing momentarily alone in a corner of the +picture-gallery, found it almost incredible that this wildly hilarious +throng of men and women could so soon, and without a single admonitory +word, break off in the midst of their conversation, stifle their mirth, +almost hold their breath, in obedience to this unspoken appeal for +silence. Every light in the place was suddenly extinguished. There +remained only the shaded lamps overhanging the pictures. + +Not a whisper was heard in the room. John, looking around him in +astonishment, was conscious only of the half-suppressed breathing of the +men and women who lined the walls, or were still standing in little +groups at the end of the long hall. Again there came the music, this +time merged in a low but insistent clamor of other instruments. Then, +suddenly, through the door at the farther end of the room came a dimly +seen figure in white. The place seemed wrapped in a mystical twilight, +with long black rays of deeper shadow lying across the floor. There was +a little murmur of tense voices, and then again silence. + +For a few moments the figure in white was motionless. Then, without any +visible commencement, she seemed suddenly to blend into the waves of +low, passionate music. The dance itself was without form or definite +movement. She seemed at first like some white, limbless spirit, floating +here and there across the dark bars of shadow at the calling of the +melody. There was no apparent effort of the body. She was merely a +beautiful, unearthly shape. It was like the flitting of a white moth +through the blackness of a moonless summer night. + +The impression it made upon John was indescribable. He watched with +straining eyes, conscious of a deep sense of pleasure. Here was +something appealing insistently to his love of beauty pure and simple; a +new joy, a new grace, something which thrilled him and which left no +aftermath of uneasy thoughts. + +The music suddenly faded away into nothing. With no more effort than +when she had glided into her poem of movement, the dancer stood in a +pose of perfect stillness. There were a few moments of tense silence. +Then came a crash of chords, and the slender white figure launched into +the dance. + +Her motions became more animated, more human. With feet which seemed +never to meet the earth, she glided toward the corner where John was +standing. He caught the smoldering fire in her eyes as she danced within +a few feet of him. He felt a catch in his breath. Some subtle and only +half-expressed emotion shook his whole being, seemed to tear at the +locked chamber of his soul. + +She had flung her arms forward, so near that they almost touched him. He +could have sworn that her lips had called his name. He felt himself +bewitched, filled with an insane longing to throw out his arms in +response to her passionate, unspoken invitation, in obedience to the +clamoring of his seething senses. He had forgotten, even, that any one +else was in the room. + +Then, suddenly, the music stopped. The lights flared out from the +ceiling and from every corner of the apartment. Slender and erect, her +arms hanging limply at her sides, without a touch of color in her cheeks +or a coil of her black hair disarranged, without a sign of heat or +disturbance or passion in her face, John found Aida Calavera standing +within a few feet of him, her eyes seeking for his. She laid her fingers +upon his arm. The room was ringing with shouts of applause, in which +John unconsciously joined. Every one was trying to press forward toward +her. With her left hand she waved them back. + +"If I have pleased you," she said, "I am so glad! I go now to rest for a +little time." + +She tightened her clasp upon her companion's arm, and they passed out of +the picture-gallery and down a long corridor. John felt as if he were +walking in a dream. Volition seemed to have left him. He only knew that +the still, white hand upon his arm seemed like a vise burning into his +flesh. + +She led him to the end of the corridor, through another door, into a +small room furnished in plain but comfortable fashion. + +"We will invade the prince's own sanctum," she murmured. "Before I +dance, I drink nothing but water. Now I want some champagne. Will you +fetch me some, and bring it to me yourself?" + +She sank back upon a divan as she spoke. John turned to leave the room, +but she called him back. + +"Come here," she invited, "close to my side! I can wait for the +champagne. Tell me, why you are so silent? And my dancing--that pleased +you?" + +He felt the words stick in his throat. The sight of her cold, alluring +beauty, shining out of her eyes, proclaiming itself and her wishes from +her parted lips, filled him with a sudden resentment. He hated himself +for the tumult which raged within him, and her for having aroused it. + +"Your dancing was indeed wonderful," he stammered. + +"It was for you!" she whispered, her voice growing softer and lower. "It +was for you I danced. Did you not feel it?" + +Her arms stole toward him. The unnatural calm with which she had +finished her dance seemed suddenly to pass. Her bosom was rising and +falling more quickly. There was a faint spot of color in her cheek. + +"It was wonderful," he told her. "I will get you the champagne." + +Her lips were parted. She smiled up at him. + +"Go quickly," she whispered, "and come back quickly! I wait for you." + +He left the room and passed out again into the picture-gallery before he +had the least idea where he was. The band was playing a waltz, and one +or two couples were dancing. The people seemed suddenly to have become +like puppets in some strange, unreal dream. He felt an almost feverish +longing for the open air, for a long draft of the fresh sweetness of the +night, far away from this overheated atmosphere charged with unnamable +things. + +As he passed through the farther doorway he came face to face with the +prince. + +"Where are you going?" the latter asked. + +"Mme. Calavera has asked me to get her some champagne," he answered. + +The prince smiled. + +"I will see that it is sent to her at once," he promised. "You are in my +sanctum, are you not? You can pursue your _tête-à-tête_ there without +interruption. You are a very much envied man!" + +"Mme. Calavera is there," John replied. "As for me, I am afraid I shall +have to go now." + +The smile faded from the prince's lips. His eyebrows came slowly +together. + +"You are leaving?" he repeated. + +"I must!" John insisted. "I can't help it. Forgive my behaving like a +boor, but I must go. Good night!" + +The prince stretched out his hand, but he was too late. + +It was twenty minutes past two o'clock when John left Grosvenor Square, +and it was twenty minutes to five when a sleepy hall-porter took him up +in the lift to his rooms on the fourth floor at the Milan. The +intervening space of time was never anything to him but an ugly and +tangled sheaf of memories. + +His first overwhelming desire had been simply to escape from that +enervating and perfervid atmosphere, to feel the morning air cool upon +his forehead, to drink in great gulps of the fresh, windy sweetness. He +felt as if poison had been poured into his veins, as if he had tampered +with the unclean things of life. + +He found himself, after a few minutes' hurried walking, in Piccadilly. +The shadows that flitted by him, lingering as he approached and offering +their stereotyped greeting, filled him with a new horror. He turned +abruptly down Duke Street and made his way to St. James's Park. From +here he walked slowly eastward. When he reached the Strand, however, the +storm in his soul was still unabated. He turned away from the Milan. The +turmoil of his passions drove him to the thoughts of flight. Half an +hour later he entered St. Pancras Station. + +"What time is the next train north to Kendal or Carlisle?" he inquired. + +The porter stared at him. John's evening clothes were spattered with +mud, the rain-drops were glistening on his coat and face, his new silk +hat was ruined. It was not only his clothes, however, which attracted +the man's attention. There was the strained look of a fugitive in John's +face, a fugitive flying from some threatened fate. + +"The newspaper train at five thirty is the earliest, sir," he said. "I +don't know whether you can get to Kendal by it, but it stops at +Carlisle." + +John looked at the clock. There was an hour to wait. He wandered about +the station, gloomy, chill, deserted. The place sickened him, and he +strolled out into the streets again. By chance he left the station by +the same exit as on the day of his arrival in London. He stopped short. + +How could he have forgotten, even for a moment? This was not the world +which he had come to discover. This was just some plague-spot upon which +he had stumbled. Through the murky dawn and across the ugly streets he +looked into Louise's drawing-room. She would be there waiting for him on +the morrow! + +Louise! The thought of her was like a sweet, purifying stimulant. He +felt the throbbing of his nerves soothed. He felt himself growing calm. +The terror of the last few hours was like a nightmare which had passed. +He summoned a taxicab and was driven to the Milan. His wanderings for +the night were over. + + + + + XVIII + + +Sophy Gerard sat in the little back room of Louise's house, which the +latter called her den, but which she seldom entered. The little actress +was looking very trim and neat in a simple blue-serge costume which +fitted her to perfection, her hair very primly arranged and tied up with +a bow. She had a pen in her mouth, there was a sheaf of bills before +her, and an open housekeeping-book lay on her knee. She had been busy +for the last half-hour making calculations, the result of which had +brought a frown to her face. + +"There is no doubt about it," she decided. "Louise is extravagant!" + +The door opened, and Louise herself, in a gray morning gown of some soft +material, with a bunch of deep-red roses at her waist, looked into the +room. + +"Why, little girl," she exclaimed, "how long have you been here?" + +"All the morning," Sophy replied. "I took the dogs out, and then I +started on your housekeeping-book and the bills. Your checks will have +to be larger than ever this month, Louise, and I don't see how you can +possibly draw them unless you go and see your bankers first." + +Louise threw herself into an easy chair. + +"Dear me!" she sighed. "I thought I had been so careful!" + +"How can you talk about being careful?" Sophy protested, tapping the +little pile of bills with her forefinger. "You seem to have had enough +asparagus and strawberries every day for at least half a dozen people. +As for the butcher, I am going this afternoon to tell him exactly what I +think of him. And there are several matters here," she went on, +"concerning which you must really talk to the cook yourself. For +instance--" + +"Oh, please don't!" Louise broke in. "I know I am extravagant. I suppose +I always shall be; but if there is one thing in the world I will not do, +it is talk to the cook! She might insist upon going, and I have never +known any one who made such entrées. Remember, child, it will be full +salary in a fortnight's time." + +"You will have to go and see your bankers, anyhow," Sophy declared. +"It's no use my writing out these checks for you. Unless you have paid +in some money I don't know anything about, you seem to be overdrawn +already." + +"I will see to that," Louise promised. "The bank manager is such a +charming person. Besides, what are banks for but to oblige their +clients? How pale you look, little girl! Were you not late last night?" + +Sophy swung round in her place. + +"I am all right. I spent the evening in my rooms and went to bed at +eleven o'clock. Who's lunching with you? I see the table is laid for +two." + +Louise glanced at the clock upon the mantelpiece. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she replied. "I suppose he will be here in a minute or +two." + +Sophy dropped the housekeeping-book and jumped up. + +"I'd better go, then." + +"Of course not," Louise answered. "You must stay to lunch. Ring the bell +and tell them to lay a place for you. Afterward, if you like, you may +come in here and finish brooding over these wretched bills while Mr. +Strangewey talks to me." + +Sophy came suddenly across the room and sank on the floor at Louise's +feet. + +"What are you going to do about Mr. Strangewey, Louise?" she asked +wistfully. + +"What am I going to do about him?" + +"He is in love with you," Sophy continued. "I am sure--I am almost sure +of it." + +Louise's laugh was unconvincing. + +"I do not think," she said, "that he quite knows what it means to be in +love." + +Sophy suddenly clasped her friend's knees. + +"Dear," she whispered, "perhaps I am a little fool, but tell me, +please!" + +Louise, for a moment, was startled. Then she leaned forward and kissed +the eager, upturned face. + +"You foolish child!" she exclaimed. "I believe that you have been +worrying. Why do you think so much about other people?" + +"Please tell me," Sophy begged. "I want to understand how things really +are between you and John Strangewey. Are you in love with him?" + +Louise's eyes were soft and dreamy. + +"I wish I knew," she answered. "If I am, then there are things in life +more wonderful than I have ever dreamed of. He doesn't live in our +world--and our world, as you know, has its grip. He knows nothing about +my art, and you can guess what life would be to me without that. What +future could there be for him and for me together? I cannot remake +myself." + +There was something in Sophy's face which was almost like wonder. + +"So this is the meaning of the change in you, Louise! I knew that +something had happened. You have seemed so different for the last few +months." + +Louise nodded. + +"London has never been the same place to me since I first met him in +Cumberland," she admitted. "Sometimes I think I am--to use your own +words--in love with John. Sometimes I feel it is just a queer, +indistinct, but passionate appreciation of the abstract beauty of the +life he seems to stand for." + +"Is he really so good, I wonder?" Sophy asked pensively. + +"I do not know," Louise sighed. "I only know that when I first talked to +him, he seemed different from any man I have ever spoken with in my +life. I suppose there are few temptations up there, and they keep nearer +to the big things. Sometimes I wonder, Sophy, if it was not very wrong +of me to draw him away from it all!" + +"Rubbish!" Sophy declared. "If he is good, he can prove it and know it +here. He will come to know the truth about himself. Besides, it isn't +everything to possess the standard virtues. Louise, he will be here in a +minute. You want to be left alone with him. What are you going to say +when he asks you what you know he will ask you?" + +Louise looked down at her. + +"Dear," she said, "I wish I could tell you. I do not know. That is the +strange, troublesome part of it--I do not know!" + +"Will you promise me something?" Sophy begged. "Promise me that if I +stay in here quietly until after he has gone, you will come and tell +me!" + +Louise leaned a little downward as if to look into her friend's face. +Sophy suddenly dropped her eyes, and the color rose to the roots of her +hair. There was a knock at the door, and the parlor maid entered. + +"Mr. Strangewey, madam," she announced. + + + + + XIX + + +"There can be no possible doubt," Louise remarked, as she unfolded her +napkin, "as to our first subject of conversation. Both Sophy and I are +simply dying of curiosity to know about the prince's supper party." + +"It was very cheerful and very gay," John said. "Every one seemed to +enjoy it very much." + +"Oh, la, la!" Sophy exclaimed. "Is that all you have to tell us? I shall +begin to think that you were up to mischief there." + +"I believe," Louise declared, "that every one of the guests is sworn to +secrecy as to what really goes on." + +"I can assure you that I wasn't," John told them. + +"The papers hint at all sorts of things," Sophy continued. "Every one +who writes for the penny illustrated papers parades his whole stock of +classical knowledge when he attempts to describe them. We read of the +feasts of Lucullus and Bacchanalian orgies. They say that at supper-time +you lie about on sofas and feast for four hours at a stretch." + +"The reports seem exaggerated," John laughed. "We went in to supper at +half past twelve and we came out just before two. We sat on chairs, and +the conversation was quite decorous." + +"This is most disappointing!" Louise murmured. "I cannot think why the +prince never invites us." + +"The ladies of his family were not present," John remarked stiffly. + +There was a moment's silence. Louise had looked down at her plate, and +Sophy glanced out of the window. + +"Is it true that Calavera was there?" the latter asked presently. + +"Yes, she was there," John replied. "She danced after supper." + +"Oh, you lucky man!" Louise sighed. "She only dances once or twice a +year off the stage. Is she really so wonderful close to?" + +"She is, in her way, very wonderful," John agreed. + +"Confess that you admired her," Louise persisted. + +"I thought her dancing extraordinary," he confessed, "and, to be +truthful, I did admire her. All the same, hers is a hateful gift." + +Louise looked at him curiously for a moment. His face showed few signs +of the struggle through which he had passed, but the grim setting of his +lips reminded her a little of his brother. He had lost, too, something +of the boyishness, the simple light-heartedness of the day before. +Instinctively she felt that the battle had begun. She asked him no more +about the supper party, and Sophy, quick to follow her lead, also +dropped the subject. + +Luncheon was not a lengthy meal, and immediately its service was +concluded, Sophy rose to her feet with a sigh. + +"I must go and finish my work," she declared. "Let me have the den to +myself for at least an hour, please, Louise. It will take me longer than +that to muddle through your books." + +Louise nodded and rose to her feet. + +"We will leave you entirely undisturbed," she promised. "I hope, when +you have finished, you will have something more agreeable to say than +you had before lunch. Shall we have our coffee up-stairs?" she +suggested, turning to John. + +"I should like to very much," he replied. "I want to talk to you alone." + +She led the way up-stairs into the cool, white drawing-room, with its +flower-perfumed atmosphere and its delicate, shadowy air of repose. She +curled herself up in a corner of the divan and gave him his coffee. Then +she leaned back and looked at him. + +"So you have really come to London, Mr. Countryman!" + +"I have followed you," he answered. "I think you knew that I would. I +tried not to," he went on, after a moment's pause. "I fought against it +as hard as I could; but in the end I had to give in." + +"That was very sensible of you," she declared knocking the ash from her +cigarette. "There is no use wearing oneself out fighting a hopeless +battle. You know now that there are things in life which are not to be +found in your passionless corner among the hills. You have realized that +you owe a duty to yourself." + +"That was not what brought me," he answered bluntly. "I came for you." + +Louise's capacity for fencing seemed suddenly enfeebled. A frontal +attack of such directness was irresistible. + +"For me!" she repeated weakly. + +"Of course," he replied. "None of your arguments would have brought me +here. If I have desired to understand this world at all, it is because +it is your world. It is you I want--don't you understand that? I thought +you would know it from the first moment you saw me!" + +He was suddenly on his feet, leaning over her, a changed man, masterful, +passionate. She opened her lips, but said nothing. She felt herself +lifted up, clasped for a moment in his arms. Unresisting, she felt the +fire of his kisses. The world seemed to have stopped. Then she tried to +push him away, weakly, and against her own will. At her first movement +he laid her tenderly back in her place. + +"I am sorry!" he said. "And yet I am not," he added, drawing his chair +close up to her side. "I am glad! You knew that I loved you, Louise. You +knew that it was for you I had come." + +She was beginning to collect herself. Her brain was at work again; but +she was conscious of a new confusion in her senses, a new element in her +life. She was no longer sure of herself. + +"Listen," she begged earnestly. "Be reasonable! How could I marry you? +Do you think that I could live with you up there in the hills?" + +"We will live," he promised, "anywhere you choose in the world." + +"Ah, no!" she continued, patting his hand. "You know what your life is, +the things you want in life. You don't know mine yet. There is my work. +You cannot think how wonderful it is to me. You don't know the things +that fill my brain from day to day, the thoughts that direct my life. I +cannot marry you just because--because--" + +"Because what?" he interrupted eagerly. + +"Because you make me feel--something I don't understand, because you +come and you turn the world, for a few minutes, topsyturvy. But that is +all foolishness, isn't it? Life isn't built up of emotions. What I want +you to understand, and what you, please, must understand, is that at +present our lives are so far, so very far, apart. I do not feel I could +be happy leading yours, and you do not understand mine." + +"I have come to find out about yours," John explained. "That is why I am +here. Perhaps I ought to have waited a little time before I spoke to you +as I did just now. Come, you can forget what I have said and done; but +to me it will be an everlasting joy. I shall treasure the memory of it. +It will help me--I can't tell you quite in what way it will help me. But +for the rest, I will serve my apprenticeship. I will try to get into +sympathy with the things that please you. It will not take me long. As +soon as you feel that we are drawing closer together, I will ask you +again what I have asked you this afternoon. In the meantime, I may be +your friend, may I not? You will let me see a great deal of you? You +will help me just a little?" + +Louise leaned back in her chair. She had been carried off her feet, +brought face to face with emotions which she dared not analyze. Perhaps, +after all her self-dissection, there were still secret chambers. She +thought almost with fear of what they might contain. Her sense of +superiority was vanishing. She was, after all, like other women. + +"Yes," she promised, "I will help. We will leave it at that. Some day +you shall talk to me again, if you like. In the meantime, remember we +are both free. You have not known many women, and you may change your +mind when you have been longer in London. Perhaps it will be better for +you if you do!" + +"That is quite impossible," John said firmly. "You see," he went on, +looking at her with shining eyes, "I know now what I half believed from +the first moment that I saw you. I love you!" + +Springing restlessly to her feet, she walked across the room and back +again. Action of some sort seemed imperative. A curious hypnotic feeling +seemed to be dulling all her powers of resistance. She looked into her +life and she was terrified. Everything had grown insignificant. It +couldn't really be possible that with her brains, her experience, this +man who had dwelt all his life in the simple ways had yet the power to +show her the path toward the greater things! + +Through the complex web of emotions which made up her temperament there +suddenly sprang a primitive instinct, the primitive instinct of all +women, rebelling against the first touch of a master's hand. Was she to +find herself wrong and this man right? Was she to submit, to accept from +his hand the best gifts of life--she who had looked for them in such +very high, such very inaccessible places? + +She felt like a child again. She trembled a little as she sat down by +his side. It was not in this fashion that she had intended to hear what +he had to say. + +"I don't know what is the matter with me to-day," she murmured +distractedly. "I think I must send you away. You disturb my thoughts. I +can't see life clearly. Don't hope for too much from me," she begged. +"But don't go away," she added, with a sudden irresistible impulse of +anxiety. "Oh, I wish--I wish you understood me and everything about me, +without my having to say a word!" + +"I feel what you are," he answered, "and that is sufficient." + +Once more she rose to her feet and walked across to the window. An +automobile had stopped in the street below. She looked down upon it with +a sudden frozen feeling of apprehension. + +John moved to her side, and for him, too, the joy of those few moments +was clouded. A little shiver of presentiment took its place. He +recognized the footman whom he saw standing upon the pavement. + +"It is the Prince of Seyre," Louise faltered. + +"Must you see him?" John muttered. + +"Yes!" + +"Send him away," John begged. "We haven't finished yet. I won't say +anything more to upset you. What I want now is some practical guidance." + +"I cannot send him away!" + +John glanced toward her and hated himself for his fierce jealousy. She +was looking very white and very pathetic. The light had gone from her +eyes. He felt suddenly dominant, and, with that feeling, there came all +the generosity of the conqueror. + +"Good-by!" he said. "Perhaps I can see you some time to-morrow." + +He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one. Then +he left the room. She listened to his footsteps descending the stairs, +firm, resolute, deliberate. They paused, there was a sound of +voices--the prince and he were exchanging greetings; then she heard +other footsteps ascending, lighter, smoother, yet just as deliberate. + +Her face grew paler as she listened. There was something which sounded +to her almost like the beating of fate in the slow, inevitable approach +of this unseen visitor. + + + + + XX + + +Henri Graillot had made himself thoroughly comfortable. He was ensconced +in the largest of John's easy chairs, his pipe in his mouth, a recently +refilled teacup--Graillot was English in nothing except his predilection +for tea--on the small table by his side. Through a little cloud of +tobacco-smoke he was studying his host. + +"So you call yourself a Londoner now, my young friend, I suppose," he +remarked, taking pensive note of John's fashionable clothes. "It is a +transformation, beyond a doubt! Is it, I wonder, upon the surface only, +or have you indeed become heart and soul a son of this corrupt city?" + +"Whatever I may have become," John grumbled, "it's meant three months of +the hardest work I've ever done!" + +Graillot held out his pipe in front of him and blew away a dense cloud +of smoke. + +"Explain yourself," he insisted. + +John stood on the hearth-rug, with his hands in his pockets. His morning +clothes were exceedingly well-cut, his tie and collar unexceptionable, +his hair closely cropped according to the fashion of the moment. He had +an extremely civilized air. + +"Look here, Graillot," he said, "I'll tell you what I've done, although +I don't suppose you would understand what it means to me. I've visited +practically every theater in London." + +"Alone?" + +"Sometimes with Miss Maurel, sometimes with her little friend, Sophy +Gerard, and sometimes alone," John replied. "I have bought a Baedeker, +taken a taxicab by the day, and done all the sights. I've spent weeks in +the National Gallery, picture-gazing, and I've done all those more +modern shows up round Bond Street. I have bought a racing-car and +learned to drive it. I have been to dinner parties that have bored me +stiff. I have been introduced to crowds of people whom I never wish to +see again, and made one or two friends," he added, smiling at his guest, +"for whom I hope I am properly grateful." + +"The prince has been showing you round a bit, hasn't he?" Graillot +grunted. + +"The prince has been extraordinarily kind to me," John admitted slowly, +"for what reason I don't know. He has introduced me to a great many +pleasant and interesting people, and a great many whom I suppose a young +man in my position should be glad to know. He has shown me one side of +London life pretty thoroughly." + +"And what about it all?" Graillot demanded. "You find yourself something +more of a citizen of the world, eh?" + +"Not a bit," John answered simply. "The more I see of the life up here, +the smaller it seems to me. I mean, of course, the ordinary life of +pleasure, the life to be lived by a young man like myself, who hasn't +any profession or work upon which he can concentrate his thoughts." + +"Then why do you stay?" + +John made no immediate reply. Instead, he walked to the window of his +sitting room and stood looking out across the Thames with a +discontented frown upon his face. Between him and the Frenchman a +curious friendship had sprung up during the last few months. + +"Tell me, then," Graillot continued, taking a bite from his piece of +cake and shaking the crumbs from his waistcoat, "what do you find in +London to compensate you for the things you miss? You are cooped up here +in this little flat--you, who are used to large rooms and open spaces; +you have given up your exercise, your sports--for what?" + +"I get some exercise," John protested. "I play rackets at Ranelagh most +mornings, and I bought a couple of hacks and ride occasionally in the +park before you're out of bed." + +"That's all right for exercise," Graillot observed. "What about +amusements?" + +"Well, I've joined a couple of clubs. One's rather a swagger sort of +place--the prince got me in there; and then I belong to the Lambs, where +you yourself go sometimes. I generally look in at one or the other of +them during the evening." + +"You see much of Miss Maurel?" + +John shook his head gloomily. + +"Not as much as I should like," he confessed. "She seems to think and +dream of nothing but this play of yours. I am hoping that when it is +once produced she will be more free." + +"I gather," Graillot concluded, "that, to put it concisely and +truthfully, you are the most bored man in London. There is something +behind all this effort of yours, my friend, to fit yourself, the round +human being, into the square place. Speak the truth, now! Treat me as a +father confessor." + +John swung round upon his heel. In the clear light it was obvious that +he was a little thinner in the face and that some of the tan had gone +from his complexion. + +"I am staying up here, and going on with it," he announced doggedly, +"because of a woman." + +Graillot stopped eating, placed the remains of his cake in the saucer of +his teacup, and laid it down. Then he leaned back in his chair and +balanced his finger-tips one against the other. + +"A woman!" he murmured. "How you astonish me!" + +"Why?" + +"Candor is so good," Graillot continued, "so stimulating to the moral +system. It is absolute candor which has made friends of two people so +far apart in most ways as you and myself. You surprise me simply because +of your reputation." + +"What about my reputation?" + +Graillot smiled benignly. + +"In France," he observed, "you would probably be offered your choice of +lunatic asylums. Here your weakness seems to have made you rather the +vogue." + +"What weakness?" + +"It is to a certain extent hearsay, I must admit," Graillot proceeded; +"but the report about you is that, although you have had some of the +most beautiful women in London almost offer themselves to you, you still +remain without a mistress." + +"What in the world do you mean?" John demanded. + +"I mean," Graillot explained frankly, "that for a young man of your age, +your wealth, and your appearance to remain free from any feminine +entanglement is a thing unheard of in my country, and, I should imagine, +rare in yours. It is not so that young men were made when I was young!" + +"I don't happen to want a mistress," John remarked, lighting a +cigarette. "I want a wife." + +"But meanwhile--" + +"You can call me a fool, if you like," John interrupted. "I may be one, +I suppose, from your point of view. All I know is that I want to be able +to offer the woman whom I marry, and who I hope will be the mother of my +children, precisely what she offers me. I want a fair bargain, from her +point of view as well as mine." + +Graillot, who had been refilling his pipe, stopped and glowered at his +host. + +"What exactly do you mean?" he asked. + +"Surely my meaning is plain enough," John replied. "We all have our +peculiar tastes and our eccentricities. One of mine has to do with the +other sex. I cannot make an amusement of them. It is against all my +prejudices." + +Graillot carefully completed the refilling of his pipe and lit it +satisfactorily. Then he turned once more to John. + +"Let us not be mistaken," he said. "You are a purist!" + +"You can call me what you like," John retorted. "I do not believe in one +law for the woman and another for the man. If a man wants a woman, and +we all do more or less, it seems to me that he ought to wait until he +finds one whom he is content to make the mother of his children." + +Graillot nodded ponderously. + +"Something like this I suspected," he admitted. "I felt that there was +something extraordinary and unusual about you. If I dared, my young +friend, I would write a play about you; but then no one would believe +it. Now tell me something. I have heard your principles. We are face to +face--men, brothers, and friends. Do you live up to them?" + +"I have always done so," John declared. + +Graillot was silent for several moments. Then he opened his lips to +speak and abruptly closed them. His face suddenly underwent an +extraordinary change. A few seconds ago his attitude had been that of a +professor examining some favorite object of study; now a more personal +note had humanized his expression. Whatever thought or reflection it was +that had come into his mind, it had plainly startled him. + +"Who is the woman?" he asked breathlessly. + +"There is no secret about it, so far as I am concerned," John answered. +"It is Louise Maurel. I thought you must have guessed." + +The two men looked at each other in silence for some moments. Out on the +river a little tug was hooting vigorously. The roar of the Strand came +faintly into the room. Upon the mantelpiece a very ornate French clock +was ticking lightly. All these sounds seemed suddenly accentuated. They +beat time to a silence almost tragical in its intensity. + +Graillot took out his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. He had +written many plays, and the dramatic instinct was strongly developed in +him. + +"Louise!" he muttered under his breath. + +"She is very different, I know," John went on, after a moment's +hesitation. "She is very clever and a great artist, and she lives in an +atmosphere of which, a few months ago, I knew nothing. I have come up +here to try to understand, to try to get a little nearer to her." + +There was another silence, this time almost an awkward one. Then +Graillot rose suddenly to his feet. + +"I will respect your confidence," he promised, holding out his hand. +"Have no fear of that. I am due now at the theater. Your tea is +excellent, and such little cakes I never tasted before." + +"You will wish me good luck?" + +"No!" + +"Why not?" John demanded, a little startled. + +"Because," Graillot pronounced, "from what I have seen and know of you +both, there are no two people in this world less suitable for each +other." + +"Look here," John expostulated, "I don't want you to go away thinking +so. You don't understand what this means to me." + +"Perhaps not, my friend," Graillot replied, "but remember that it is at +least my trade to understand men and women. I have known Louise Maurel +since she was a child." + +"Then it is I whom you don't understand." + +"That may be so," Graillot confessed. "One makes mistakes. Let us leave +it at that. You are a young man of undeveloped temperament. You may be +capable of much which at present I do not find in you." + +"Tell me the one quality in which you consider me most lacking," John +begged. "You think that I am narrow, too old-fashioned in my views? +Perhaps I am, but, on the other hand, I am very anxious to learn and +absorb all that is best in this wider life. You can't really call me +prejudiced. I hated the stage before I came to London, but during the +last few months no one has been a more assiduous theatergoer. I +understand better than I did, and my views are immensely modified. I +admit that Louise is a great artist, I admit that she has wonderful +talents. I am even willing, if she wished it, to allow her to remain for +a time upon the stage. What could I say more? I want you on my side, +Graillot." + +"And I," Graillot replied, as he shook his friend's hand and hurried +off, "want only to be on the side that will mean happiness for you +both." + +He left the room a little abruptly. John walked back to the window, +oppressed with a sense of something almost ominous in the Frenchman's +manner, something which he could not fathom, against which he struggled +in vain. Side by side with it, there surged into his memory the +disquietude which his present relations with Louise had developed. She +was always charming when she had any time to spare--sometimes almost +affectionate. On the other hand, he was profoundly conscious of her +desire to keep him at arm's length for the present. + +He had accepted her decision without a murmur. He made but few efforts +to see her alone, and when they met he made no special claim upon her +notice. He was serving his apprenticeship doggedly and faithfully. Yet +there were times like the present when he found his task both hateful +and difficult. + +He walked aimlessly backward and forward, chafing against the restraint +of the narrow walls and the low ceiling. A sudden desire had seized him +to fly back to the hills, wreathed in mist though they might be; to +struggle on his way through the blinding rain, to drink down long gulps +of his own purer, less civilized atmosphere. + +The telephone-bell rang. He placed the receiver to his ear almost +mechanically. + +"Who is it?" he asked. + +"Lady Hilda Mulloch is asking for you, sir," the hall-porter announced. + + * * * * * + +Lady Hilda peered around John's room through her lorgnette, and did not +hesitate to express her dissatisfaction. + +"My dear man," she exclaimed, "what makes you live in a hotel? Why don't +you take rooms of your own and furnish them? Surroundings like these are +destructive to one's individuality." + +"Well, you see," John explained, as he drew an easy chair up to the fire +for his guest, "my stay in London is only a temporary one, and it hasn't +seemed worth while to settle anywhere." + +She stretched out her graceful body in front of the fire and raised her +veil. She was very smartly dressed, as usual. Her white-topped boots and +white silk stockings, which she seemed to have no objection to +displaying, were of the latest vogue. The chinchilla around her neck and +in her little toque was most becoming. She seemed to bring with her an +atmosphere indefinable, in its way, but distinctly attractive. Brisk in +her speech, a little commanding in her manner, she was still essentially +feminine. + +John, at her direct invitation, had called upon her once or twice since +their meeting at the opera, and he had found her, from the first, more +attractive than any other society woman of his acquaintance. None the +less, he was a little taken aback at her present visit. + +"Exactly why are you here, anyhow?" she demanded. "I feel sure that +Eugène told me the reason which had brought you from your wilds, but I +have forgotten it." + +"For one thing," John replied, "I have come because I don't want to +appear prejudiced, and the fact that I had never spent a month in +London, or even a week, seemed a little narrow-minded." + +"What's the real attraction?" Lady Hilda asked. "It is a woman, isn't +it?" + +"I am very fond of a woman who is in London," John admitted. "Perhaps it +is true that I am here on her account." + +Lady Hilda withdrew from her muff a gold cigarette-case and a little box +of matches. + +"Order some mixed vermuth with lemon for me, please," she begged. "I +have been shopping, and I hate tea. I don't know why I came to see you. +I suddenly thought of it when I was in Bond Street." + +"It was very kind of you," John said. "If I had known that you cared +about seeing me, I would have come to you with pleasure." + +"What does it matter?" she answered. "You are thinking, perhaps, that I +risk my reputation in coming to a young man's rooms? Those things do not +count for me. Ever since I was a child I have done exactly as I liked, +and people have shrugged their shoulders and said, 'Ah, well, it is only +Lady Hilda!' I have been six months away from civilization, big-game +shooting, and haven't seen a white woman. It didn't matter, because it +was I. I traveled around the world with a most delightful man who was +writing a book, but it didn't affect my reputation in the slightest. I +am quite convinced that if I chose to take you off to Monte Carlo with +me next week and spend a month with you there, I should get my pass to +the royal enclosure at Ascot when I returned, and my invitation to the +next court ball, even in this era of starch. You see, they would say, +'It is only Lady Hilda!'" + +The waiter brought the vermuth, which his visitor sipped contentedly. + +"So there is a woman, is there?" she went on, looking across the room at +her companion. "Have you committed yourself already, then? Don't you +remember what I told you the first night we met after the opera--that it +is well to wait?" + +"Yes, I remember," John admitted. + +"I meant it." + +He laughed good-humoredly, yet not without some trace of +self-consciousness. + +"The mischief was done then," he said. + +"Couldn't it be undone?" she asked lazily. "Or are you one of those +tedious people who are faithful forever? Fidelity," she continued, +knocking the ash from her cigarette, "is really, to my mind, the most +bourgeois of vices. It comes from a want of elasticity in the emotional +fibres. Nothing in life has bored me so much as the faithfulness of my +lovers." + +"You ought to put all this into one of your books," John suggested. + +"I probably shall, when I write my reminiscences," she replied. "Tell me +about this woman. And don't stand about in that restless way at the +other end of the room. Bring a chair close to me--there, close to my +side!" + +John obeyed, and his visitor contemplated him thoughtfully through a +little cloud of tobacco-smoke. + +"Yes," she decided, "there is no use denying it. You are hatefully +good-looking, and somehow or other I think your clothes have improved +you. You have a little more air than when you first came to town. Are +you quite sure that you haven't made up your mind about this woman in a +hurry?" + +"Quite sure," John laughed. "I suppose I am rather an idiot, but I am +addicted to the vice of which you were speaking." + +She nodded. + +"I should imagine," she said, "that you were not an adept in the art of +flirtation. Is it true that the woman is Louise Maurel?" + +"Quite true," John replied. + +"But don't you know--" + +She broke off abruptly. She saw the face of the man by her side suddenly +change, and her instinct warned her of the danger into which she was +rushing. + +"You surprise me very much," she said. "Louise Maurel is a very +wonderful woman, but she seems to spend the whole of her time with my +cousin, the prince." + +"They are, without doubt, very friendly," John assented. "They have a +good many interests in common, and the prince is connected with the +syndicate which finances the theater. I do not imagine, however, that +the prince wishes to marry her, or she him." + +Lady Hilda began to laugh, softly, but as if genuinely amused. John sat +and watched her in ominous silence. Not the flicker of a smile parted +his set lips. His visitor, however, was undisturbed. She leaned over and +patted his hand. + +"Simple Simon!" she murmured, leaning a little toward him. "If you go +looking like that, I shall pat your cheeks, too. You are really much too +nice-looking to wear such thunderclouds!" + +"Perhaps if we chose some other subject of conversation--" John said +stiffly. + +"Oh, dear me!" she interrupted. "Very well! You really are a most trying +person, you know. I put up with a great deal from you." + +John was silent. Her face darkened a little, and an angry light flashed +in her eyes. + +"Well, I'll leave you alone, if you like," she decided, tossing her +cigarette into the grate. "If my friendship isn't worth having, let it +go. It hasn't often been offered in vain. There are more men in London +than I could count who would go down on their knees for such a visit as +I am paying you. And you--you," she added, with a little tremble of real +anger in her tone, "you're too hatefully polite and priggish! Come and +ring the bell for the lift. I am going!" + +She slid gracefully to her feet, shook the cigarette ash from her +clothes, and picked up her muff. + +"You really are an egregious, thick-headed, obstinate countryman," she +declared, as she moved toward the door. "You haven't either manners or +sensibility. I am a perfect idiot to waste my time upon you. I wouldn't +have done it," she added, as he followed her dumbly down the corridor, +"if I hadn't rather liked you!" + +"I am very sorry," he declared. "I don't know quite what I have done. I +do appreciate your friendship. You have been very kind to me indeed." + +She hesitated as his finger touched the bell of the lift, and glanced at +the watch on her wrist. + +"Well," she said, "if you want to be friends, I will give you one last +chance. I am doing what sounds rather a ghastly thing--I am having a +little week-end party down at my cottage at Bourne End. It will be +rather like camping out, but some interesting people are coming. Will +you motor down on Saturday evening and stay till Sunday night or +Monday?" + +"I shall be very pleased indeed," John replied. "It is very good of you +to ask me. When I come, I'd like, if I may," he went on, "to tell you +about myself, and why I am here, and about Louise." + +She sighed, and watched the top of the lift as it came up. Then she +dropped her veil. + +"You will find me," she assured him, as she gave him the tips of her +fingers, "a most sympathetic listener." + + * * * * * + +Louise and Sophy came to dine that evening with John in the grill-room +at the Milan. They arrived a little late and were still in morning +clothes. Louise was looking pale and tired, and her greeting was almost +listless. + +"We are dead beat," Sophy exclaimed. "We've been having a secret +rehearsal this afternoon without Graillot, and he came in just as we +were finishing. He was perfectly furious!" + +"He was here to tea with me," John remarked, as he led the way to their +table. + +"My dear man," Louise exclaimed, "if you could have kept him half an +hour longer you'd have earned our undying gratitude! You see, there are +several little things on which we shall never agree, he and myself and +the rest of the company; so we decided to run over certain passages in +the way we intend to do them, without him. Of course, he saw through it +all when he arrived, tore up his manuscript on the stage, and generally +behaved like a madman." + +"I am sorry," John said, as they took their seats and he handed Louise +the menu of the dinner that he had ordered. "Won't the play be produced +to-morrow night, then?" + +"Oh, it will be produced all right," Louise told him; "but you don't +know how we've all worn ourselves out, trying to make that old bear see +reason. We've had to give way on one scene, as it is. What a delightful +little dinner, John! You're spoiling us. You know how I love that big +white asparagus. And strawberries, too! Well, I think we've earned it +anyhow, Sophy!" + +"You have," the latter declared. "You were the only one who could soothe +Graillot at all." + +"I can get my way with most people," Louise remarked languidly; "but it +simply means that the more difficult they are, the more you have to +spend yourself in getting it. John," she went on, after a moment's +pause, "you are coming to-morrow night, I suppose?" + +"Of course. Didn't I take my box two months ago?" + +"And now that my part after the first act has been cut out, I am coming +with him," Sophy put in. "I may, mayn't I?" + +"Of course," John assented. + +Louise sighed dejectedly. + +"I am not at all sure that I shall like having you there," she said. "I +shouldn't be at all surprised if it made me nervous." + +He laughed incredulously. + +"It's all very well," she went on, watching the champagne poured in to +her glass, "but you won't like the play, you know." + +"Perhaps I sha'n't understand it altogether," John agreed. "It's very +subtle, and, as you know, I don't find problem plays of that sort +particularly attractive; but with you in it, you can't imagine that I +sha'n't find it interesting!" + +"We were talking about it, coming up in the taxi," Louise continued, +"and we came to the conclusion that you'd hate it. We've had to give way +to Graillot with regard to the last act. Of course, there is really +nothing in it, but I don't know just what you will say." + +"Well, you needn't be afraid that I shall stand up in my box and order +the performance to cease," John assured them, smiling. "Besides, I am +not quite such an idiot, Louise. I know very well that you may have to +say and do things on the stage which in private life would offend your +taste and your sense of dignity. I am quite reconciled to that. I am +prepared to accept everything you do and everything that you say. There! +I can't say more than that, can I?" + +Louise smiled at him almost gratefully. She drew her hand over his, +caressingly. + +"You are a dear!" she declared. "You've really made me feel much more +comfortable. Now please tell me what you have been doing all day." + +"Well, Graillot came in and spent most of the afternoon," John answered. +"Since then, Lady Hilda Mulloch has been here." + +Louise looked up quickly. + +"What, here in your rooms?" + +"I didn't ask her," John said. "I have been to see her once or twice, +and she has been very nice, but I never dreamed of her coming here." + +"Shameless hussy!" Sophy exclaimed, as she set down her wine-glass. +"Didn't you tell her that Louise and I are the only two women in London +who have the entrée to your rooms?" + +"I am afraid it didn't occur to me to tell her that," John confessed, +smiling. "All the same, I was surprised to see her. It was just a whim, +I think." + +"She is a clever woman," Louise sighed. "She won't know me--I can't +imagine why. She is a cousin of the prince, too, you know." + +"She is very amusing," John agreed. "I have met some interesting people +at her house, too. She has asked me down to Bourne End for this next +week-end--the week-end you are spending with Mrs. Faraday," he +continued, glancing toward Louise. + +Louise nodded. She looked at John critically. + +"Quite a success in town, isn't he?" she remarked to Sophy. "People +tumble over one another to get invitations for her week-end parties in +the season. I must say I never heard of going down to Bourne End in +February, though." + +"The idea seemed rather pleasant to me," John confessed. "So many of you +people know nothing of the country except just in the summer!" + +"If John gets talking about the country," Louise said, "we shall not be +allowed our proper share in the conversation for the rest of the +evening. The question is, are we to allow him to go down to Bourne End? +Lady Hilda isn't exactly a Puritan where your sex is concerned, you +know, John." + +"She'll expect you to flirt with her," Sophy insisted. + +"She won't," John replied. "I have told her that I am in love with +Louise." + +"Was there ever such a man in the world?" Louise exclaimed. "Tell me, +what did Lady Hilda say to that?" + +"Not much," he answered. "She suggested that her cousin had a prior +claim on you." + +Louise laid down her knife and fork. Her left hand clutched the piece of +toast which was lying by her side. She began to crumble it up into small +pieces. + +"What did Lady Hilda say exactly?" she insisted. + +"Nothing much," John replied. "She seemed surprised when I mentioned +your name. I asked her why, and she told me, or rather she hinted, that +you and the prince are very great friends." + +"Anything more?" + +"Nothing at all. I pointed out that the prince is interested in +theatrical affairs, and that he is the chief member of the syndicate +that runs the theaters. She seemed to understand." + +There was a brief silence. Louise was once more looking a little tired. +She changed the subject abruptly, and only returned to it when John was +driving home with her. + +"Do you know," she said, after a long silence, "I am not at all sure +that I want you to go to Lady Hilda's!" + +"Then I won't," he promised with alacrity. "I'll do just as you say." + +Louise sat quite still, thinking, looking through the rain-splashed +windows of the taxicab. + +"You have only to say the word," John continued. "I should be flattered +to think that you cared." + +"It isn't that. Lady Hilda is very clever, and she is used to having her +own way. I am afraid!" + +"Afraid of what?" + +"Of nothing," Louise declared suddenly. "Go, by all means, John. I am +simply a little idiot when I give way for a moment to such poisonous +thoughts. Lady Hilda can say what she likes about anybody or anything. +It really doesn't matter at all whether you go to Bourne End or not." + +"I don't quite understand you," John confessed; "but if you mean that +you are afraid of anything Lady Hilda might say to me about you, why, I +feel inclined to laugh at you. Lady Hilda," he added, with a touch of +intuition, "is far too clever a woman to make such a mistake." + +"I believe you are right," Louise agreed. "I shall pin my faith to Lady +Hilda's cleverness and to your--fidelity. Go and spend your week-end +there, by all means. I only wish I wasn't bound to go to the Faradays', +but that can't possibly be helped. Come and lunch with me on Monday," +she added impulsively. "It seems a long time since we had a little talk +together." + +He suddenly held her to him, and she met his lips unresistingly. It was +the first time he had even attempted anything of the sort for months. + +"You are a dear, John," she said, a little wistfully. "I am terribly +divided in my thoughts about you. Just now I feel that I have only one +wish--that I could give you all that you want, all that you deserve!" + +He was very loverlike. She was once more a slight, quivering thing in +his arms. + +"Why need we wait any longer?" he begged. "If we told everyone +to-night--to-morrow--the Faradays would not expect you to keep your +engagement." + +She shook herself free from him, but her smile was almost a +compensation. The taxicab had stopped opposite her door, and her servant +came hurrying out. + +"Until Monday!" she murmured. + + + + + XXI + + +Early on the following morning John glided out of London in his +two-seated racing-car, on his way to Bourne End. The white mist that +hung over the Streets and parks and obscured the sky passed away as he +left the suburbs behind him. With his first glimpse of the country came +a welcome change. There were little flecks of blue in the firmament +above him, a distinct if somewhat watery sunshine, and a soft buoyancy +in the air, almost an anticipation of spring. + +John leaned back in his seat, filled with an unexpected sense of +contentment. After all, this week-end visit would probably turn out to +be pleasant enough, and on Monday night the play was to be produced at +last. He felt that for weeks Louise had been living in an atmosphere of +high tension. He himself had begun to realize the nervous excitement of +a first night, when the work of many months is at last presented in its +concrete form. He was content to believe that all that had depressed him +in Louise's demeanor had been due to this cause--to anxiety about her +success, to the artistic dissatisfaction evolved by the struggle between +her desire to conform to the prejudices of the critics and her wish to +present truthfully the work of the great French dramatist. Once it was +all over and the verdict given, relaxation would come. He was content to +wait. + +He had no trouble in finding Lady Hilda's cottage in Bourne End--a long, +white bungalow-looking building, surrounded by a little stream which +led down to the river. A man servant took his dressing case from the +back of the car and showed him the way to the garage. Lady Hilda herself +came strolling up the lawn and waved her hand. + +"Now what about my week-end on the river?" she exclaimed, as they shook +hands. "Isn't it delightful? I have ordered lunch early--do you +mind?--and I thought, if you felt energetic, it's not too cold for you +to take me out on the river; or, if you feel lazy, I'll take you." + +"I am not much of an oarsman," John told her, "but I certainly won't ask +you to pull me about!" + +She led him into the little dining room and answered the question in his +eyes when he saw the table laid for two. + +"Colonel and Mrs. Dauncey are coming down this afternoon," she said, +"and my brother Fred will be here in time for dinner. I wired to Mrs. +Henderson--the woman who writes novels, you know--to come down, too, if +she can, but I haven't heard from her. I have been looking at the river +this morning, and it's almost like glass; and I can see little specks of +green in the flower-beds where my bulbs are coming up. Richards will +show you your room now, if you like, and we'll have lunch in ten +minutes." + +John found his cottage bedroom, with its view of the river, delightful, +and at luncheon Lady Hilda showed him the side of herself that he liked +best. She talked of her travels, and of big-game shooting. Afterward +they sauntered out to the stream, and John, selecting the more stable of +the two boats moored to the little landing-stage, pulled out into the +river. Lady Hilda, in a fur coat, leaned back on a pile of cushions and +watched him, with a cigarette between her lips. He found the exercise +stimulating and delightful. Some of the color which he had lost came +back to his cheeks. + +"Aren't you sorry," she asked him once, as they paused to look across a +vista of green meadows toward a distant range of hills, "for the people +who see nothing in the country except in summer? Look at those lines of +bare, sad trees, the stillness of it all, and yet the softness; and +think what it will soon be, think what there is underneath, ready to +burst into life as the weeks go on! I always come down here early, just +to watch the coming of springtime. That wood to our left, with its bare, +brown undergrowth, will soon show little flushes of pinky-yellow, and +then a few days more sunshine and the primroses will be there. And you +see, higher up, that wood where the trees stand so far apart? A little +later still, the wild hyacinths will be like a blue carpet there. In the +garden we begin with little rings of white snowdrops; then the crocuses +come up in lines, yellow and purple; and the daffodils; and then, on +those beds behind, the hyacinths. When the wind blows from the south, +the perfume of them, as you pass down the river, is simply wonderful. Be +careful, if you are turning round. There's a strong current here." + +John nodded. He was watching his hostess a little curiously. + +"I had no idea," he said simply, "that you cared about flowers and that +sort of thing." + +She threw her cigarette away and looked at him for a moment without +speaking. + +"You see, you don't really understand me very well," she remarked. + +The twilight was coming on as they turned into their own little stream, +and gleams of light shot from the windows of the few houses that were +open. As they strolled up the lawn, they could see a rose-shaded lamp +and a silver tea-equipage set out in Lady Hilda's sitting room. + +"No one arrived yet, I see," she remarked carelessly, as they entered +the cottage. "I'll play you a game of billiards as soon as we have had +tea." + +John, who had thoroughly enjoyed his exercise, sat in a low chair by her +side, drank innumerable small cups of tea, and ate buttered toast in +thin strips. When they had finished, Lady Hilda rose. + +"Go and knock the balls about for a few minutes," she begged. "I am +going to put on a more comfortable gown. If the Daunceys come, you can +entertain them. I played a round of golf this morning before you came." + +John made his way into the comfortable billiard room, at one end of +which a wood fire was burning, lit a cigarette, and took out a cue. +Presently Lady Hilda returned. She was wearing a rose-colored tea-gown, +and once more John caught a glimpse of something in her eyes, as she +looked at him, which puzzled him. + +"I am a little gaudy, I am afraid," she laughed, as she took a cue from +the rack, "but so comfortable! How many will you give me in a hundred?" + +"I have never seen you play," John reminded her. "I am not much good +myself." + +They played two games, and John had hard work to escape defeat. As they +were commencing the third, the butler entered the room, bearing a +telegram. Lady Hilda took it from the salver, glanced at it, and threw +it into the fire. + +"What a nuisance!" she exclaimed. "The Daunceys can't come." + +John, who was enjoying himself very much, murmured only a word or two of +polite regret. He had never got over his distaste for meeting strangers. + +"Can't be helped, I suppose," Lady Hilda remarked. "There is nothing +from Flo Henderson yet. We'll have one more game, and then I'll ring her +up." + +They played another game of billiards, and sat by the fire for a little +while. The silence outside, and the air of repose about the place, were +delightful to John after several months of London. + +"I wonder you ever leave here," he said. + +She laughed softly. + +"You forget that I am a lone woman. Solitude, as our dear friend wrote +in her last novel, is a paradise for two, but is an irritant for one." + +There was a short silence. For the first time since his arrival John's +tranquillity was a little disturbed. There was something almost pathetic +in the expression which had flashed for a moment over his hostess's +face. Was she really lonely, he wondered? Perhaps she had some sort of +unhappy love history underneath her rather hard exterior. He was +disposed just then to judge the whole world charitably, and he had never +believed the stories which people were so anxious to tell of her. He +felt no desire to pursue the subject. + +"I have never read any of Mrs. Henderson's books," he remarked. + +She stretched out an arm, took a volume from the swinging table by her +side, and threw it across to him. + +"You can glance through that while you dress," she said. + +A gong rang through the house a few moments later, and the butler +brought in two cocktails on a little silver tray. + +"We are having quite a solitude _à deux_, aren't we?" Lady Hilda +remarked, as she raised her glass. "I'll go and ring up Flo on my way +up-stairs." + +They parted a few minutes later, and John went up to his room. He found +his clothes carefully laid out, a bright fire burning, and a bath-room +leading from his bedroom. He dressed in somewhat leisurely fashion, and +the dinner-gong rang as he descended the stairs. He could hear Lady +Hilda's voice talking on the telephone, and made his way to her little +room. She had just laid down the receiver. + +"It seems," she said, "that you and I are the only people who appreciate +the country at this time of the year. I have just been talking to Flo. +She declares that nothing in the world would tempt her down here. She is +convinced that all the trees are dropping with damp, and that the mud is +inches deep. She won't believe a single word about the sunshine." + +"She isn't coming, then?" + +Lady Hilda shook her head. + +"Fred is our last hope as a chaperon," she remarked carelessly, as she +took his arm. "I expect he'll turn up later." + +Dinner--which, as John observed when they entered the room, was laid +only for two--was served at a small, round table drawn pleasantly up to +the fire. John, who had never admired his hostess more, put all +disquieting thoughts behind him and thoroughly enjoyed the dainty meal. +The pleasant warmth of the room, the excellent champagne, and Lady +Hilda's amusing conversation, unlocked his tongue. He talked much more +freely than usual of his life in Cumberland, of the various half-formed +plans which he had made as to the spending of his unexpected fortune, of +the new pleasure he found in motoring, of his almost pathetic efforts +to understand and appreciate the town life which at heart he hated. A +clever listener, like most good talkers, Lady Hilda frequently +encouraged him with a sympathetic word or two. + +They were sitting over their coffee and liqueurs in two great easy +chairs drawn up to the fire, when John glanced at the clock with a +little start. + +"Why, it's nearly ten o'clock!" he exclaimed. "What on earth can have +become of your brother?" + +Almost as he spoke the telephone-bell rang. It stood on a little table +behind him. Lady Hilda, who was leaning back in her chair in an attitude +of luxurious repose, pointed lazily to it. + +"Answer it for me, there's a dear man," she begged. + +John took up the receiver. He recognized the voice at once--it was Lady +Hilda's brother who spoke. + +"I say, is Lady Hilda there?" he asked. + +"Yes, where are you?" John replied. "I am John Strangewey. We have been +expecting you all the evening." + +"Expecting me?" was the reply. "What on earth are you talking about? And +what are you doing in the wilderness?" + +"I am spending the week-end with your sister," John replied. "I +understood that you were coming." + +The young man at the other end laughed derisively. + +"Something better to do, old chap!" he said. "I am dining with Flo +Henderson--just speaking from her flat. Send Hilda along, there's a good +fellow." + +John turned around. His eyes met Lady Hilda's, and he understood. He +handed the receiver to her in silence. Of the conversation which passed +he scarcely heard a word. As soon as it began, in fact, he left the +room and went across the hall to the billiard room. The lights were +already lit, and cues, ready chalked, were standing by the table. + +John went through a few moments of dismayed wonder. He glanced out of +the window toward the garage, which was all in darkness. He heard the +soft sweep of Lady Hilda's skirts across the hall, the closing of the +door as she entered. Her eyes met his, as he turned around, with +something of challenge in them. Her lips were curved in a faintly +ironical smile. + +"Well?" she exclaimed, a little defiantly. "Shall I telephone to London +for a chaperon?" + +"Not unless you think it necessary," John replied, suddenly feeling the +fire of battle in his blood. "I can assure you that I am to be trusted. +On the other hand, if you prefer it, I can motor back to town; or I can +go to the inn, and come and take you on the river in the morning." + +It was obvious that she was a little surprised. She came over to him, +put her hands upon the billiard table, and looked up into his face. + +"Don't be a goose," she begged, "and please don't imagine foolish +things. I suppose my telegram to Fred must have gone wrong. Anyhow, I +don't think we need anybody else. We've got along very well so far +to-day, haven't we?" + +"I've enjoyed every moment of it," John declared cheerfully, "and I am +looking forward more than I can tell you to beating you at billiards, to +sleeping once more with my windows wide open and no smuts, and to having +another pull on that river in the morning. Let me give you fifteen this +time. I want to play my best!" + +She took up her cue with a little sigh of half-puzzled relief. They +played two games, the second one at John's insistence. Then the butler +brought in whisky and soda. + +"Is there anything further to-night, madam?" he asked, after he had +arranged the tray. + +"Nothing," Lady Hilda answered. "You can go to bed." + +They played the last game almost in silence. Then Lady Hilda replaced +her cue in the rack and threw herself into one of the easy chairs. + +"Bring me a whisky-and-soda," she said. "We'll have one cigarette before +we go to bed." + +John obeyed her, and sat by her side. She looked at him a little +questioningly. His unhesitating acceptance of the situation had puzzled +her. There was nothing but the slightest change in his manner to denote +his realization of the fact that the house-party was a sham. + +"I believe you are cross," she exclaimed suddenly. + +"On the contrary," John replied, "I have had a thoroughly delightful +day." + +"You don't like people who tell fibs," she went on. "You know quite +well, now, that my house-party was a farce. I never asked the Daunceys, +I never sent a telegram to Fred. It was simply rotten luck that he rang +me up. I asked you down here to spend the week-end with me--alone." + +He looked her in the face, without the slightest change of expression. + +"Then I think that it was exceedingly nice of you," he said, "and I +appreciate the compliment. Really," he went on, with a smile, "I think +we are quite safe, aren't we? You are known as a man-hater, and you are +allowed special privileges because you are what you are. And I am known +to be in love with another woman." + +She frowned slightly. + +"Does the whole world, then, know of your infatuation?" she asked. + +"It may know, for all I care," John replied simply. "I am hoping that +after Monday Louise will let me announce it." + +There was a short silence. A portion of the log fell to the hearth, and +John carefully replaced it upon the fire. + +"Do you remember," she asked, dropping her voice almost to a whisper, +"what I said to you the first night we met at Covent Garden, before I +had any particular interest in you, before I had come to like you?" + +John made no reply. Why did she again remind him of what she had said +that night? + +"I advised you," she went on, "not to be too rash. I think I told you +that there were better things." + +"There is no better thing in the world," John said simply, "than to give +every feeling of which you are capable to the woman you love." + +She frowned and threw her cigarette into the hearth. + +"You talk," she declared, "either like George Alexander on the stage, or +like a country bumpkin! Why doesn't some one teach you the manners of +civilized life?" + +"Lady Hilda," he replied, "I am past teaching. You see, the fact of it +is that a country bumpkin is exactly what I am." + +She turned her white shoulder away from him. + +"You will find a candle on the hall table," she snapped. + +John rose at once to his feet. + +"It's your delightful country air, I suppose," he said. "I am sorry if +I betrayed my sleepiness, however. Good night!" + +Lady Hilda made no answer. John looked backward from the door. She had +kicked off her slipper and was warming her foot before the fire. + +"Good night!" he repeated. "I am going to wake like a giant in the +morning, and pull you just as far as you like up the river!" + +He closed the door, lit a candle, and made his way to his room. As soon +as he was there he locked the door and flung the window wide open. +Resting his elbows upon the window-sill, he looked out at the soft, +misty darkness. He had the sensation of having been through some +undignified fight, in which even victory savored of shame. He felt a +quivering consciousness, half indignant, half irritated, of having been +forced into an impossible situation. + +Presently he began to undress. He moved about on tiptoe, and found +himself continually listening. He heard Lady Hilda come out from the +billiard room below, heard her strike a match as she lit a candle, heard +her coming up the stairs. He stood quite still. Suddenly he saw the +handle of his door turned softly--once, and then again. He watched it +with fascinated, almost horrified eyes. The door was shaken slightly. A +voice from outside called him. + +"Good night!" + +He made no reply. The handle ceased to rattle. He heard retreating +footsteps, the opening and closing of Lady Hilda's door. + + + + + XXII + + +John was awakened the next morning by the sound of rain against his +window. He got out of bed and looked upon a scene of desolation. The +clouds hung low, and rain was coming down in level sheets. The lawns and +gardens which yesterday had had the air of waiting for the spring were +to-day a sudden wilderness. + +There was a knock at the door, and the butler brought in his tea. + +"Lady Hilda sends her compliments, sir," he announced, "and as the +morning is so unfavorable she will not rise until eleven o'clock. +Breakfast will be ready down-stairs at half past nine, or can be served +in your room." + +"Thank you, I'll come down," John replied. + +He bathed and shaved himself, he even packed his own clothes. Then he +left the room, descending the stairs softly, and glancing furtively at +the door of Lady Hilda's room with an air almost of a guilty schoolboy. +He breakfasted alone and spent the morning in the billiard room until +Lady Hilda appeared. + +"I am a terrible hostess, am I not?" she said apologetically, as she +opened the door; "but what is there to be done? The weather is too +hopeless, isn't it?" + +"Appalling!" John agreed. "Still, it's very comfortable in here, and I +have just made a seventy-one break." + +"We'll have a two hundred and fifty up--that ought to last until +lunch-time," she suggested, throwing herself into a chair. "Give me ten +minutes, will you? This weather is so depressing. Even the effort of +getting up seems to have tired me." + +She threw herself into an easy chair, and John tried to concentrate his +attention upon the balls. More than once, however, he glanced across at +his hostess. She was looking older this morning, paler, her face a +little drawn, her eyes large and soft. She sat looking into the fire; on +her knee were some letters, at which she scarcely glanced. Presently she +threw them aside and rang the bell. + +"Bring me a brandy-and-soda and the cigarettes," she told the butler. +"Now, Mr. Strangewey, I am ready," she went on, turning to John. "Give +me fifty in two hundred and fifty, if you dare!" + +"We'll try," he agreed. + +They played until lunch-time, both affecting a rapt interest in the +game. At the sound of the gong Lady Hilda laid down her cue. + +"We'll finish later," she suggested. + +John strolled to the window. There were some signs of clearing in the +sky, although the whole place seemed still to reek of moisture. + +"I am afraid I shall have to start soon after lunch," he said. "It will +take some time to get up to town. I am not a very experienced driver, +and my car is a little inclined to skid on wet roads." + +She made no remark, and to both of them the presence of servants during +the meal appeared to be somewhat of a relief. The coffee and liqueurs, +however, again were served in the billiard room, and there was a very +awkward silence. For some time Lady Hilda had baffled his efforts at +ordinary conversation, and his last few remarks about the weather she +had ignored altogether. + +"So you are going up this evening?" she said at last. + +"This afternoon, if you don't mind," he replied, glancing at the clock, +and thinking of the bliss with which he would turn his car out into the +road. "I explained, didn't I, that I had an engagement this evening?" + +"Quite right," she admitted. "All the same, you are rather an +inconsiderate guest, aren't you, to leave me here alone in this swamp?" + +"Come, too?" he suggested. "I'll motor you up." + +"Thanks," she replied, "I will." + +He was a little taken aback, but, after all, it was perhaps the simplest +way out of his difficulties. + +"I'll take you, with pleasure, if you don't mind being drenched." + +"I can stand physical discomforts," she said. "It's the other sort of +knocks that bruise." + +"It won't be so bad," he continued, ignoring her last speech, "if you +wear a mackintosh and something thick for your head. Shouldn't wonder if +it cleared up presently." + +Lady Hilda smiled. + +"I have been out in a shower in Patagonia," she reminded him, "which +lasted for three weeks. Will it suit you to start in half an hour?" + +"Any time you like," he agreed. + +She had changed her position a little, and he was forced to look at her. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she said, "I want to ask you a question. Are you going +to marry Louise Maurel?" + +"I am," he replied, without hesitation; "at least, I hope to do so." + +She looked at him for a moment with a strange expression. Then she rose +to her feet. Her lips were quivering. She leaned against the +mantelpiece, with her forehead upon her arms. At first he imagined that +she was going to weep; then, to his horror, he found that she was +laughing--half-hysterically, perhaps, but still laughing. He drew a step +nearer to her, but she waved him away. + +"Sit down!" she gasped. "Oh, if I might tell this to Henri Graillot! +What a play! What humor! My friend John Strangewey, I congratulate you! +You have created a new situation in life. Leave me alone, please!" + +She bent forward until her face was completely hidden. Her body was +shaken. Once or twice he fancied that her laughter had turned to sobs. +When at last she looked up, however, there were the remains of an almost +devilish mirth on her lips. She rang the bell. + +"That is for my maid," she said. "I am now going to change my clothes +and let you motor me up to London. I shall get some fresh air, at any +rate, and your car always fills me with longing. Amuse yourself, won't +you? I shall be an hour getting ready, and I will order an early tea." + +"You wouldn't care to tell me, I suppose," he asked, "what is the new +situation in life which you say I have created?" + +She turned to him from the door. She was really a very handsome woman. +Her lips were most expressive. + +"My friend," she said, "if you knew, if you understood, the priceless +humor of it would be gone." + +She closed the door and left John alone. He went back to the +billiard-table, but somehow or other his skill seemed to have vanished. +He had the picture of her face in his mind, the subtle meaning of her +lips, the mockery of her eyes. + +They drove up to London almost in silence. It was nearly seven o'clock +when John swung the little car in Pont Street. It was still raining +softly. + +"Thank you very much," he said, "for my week-end. I enjoyed the river +immensely yesterday afternoon." + +"And thank you very much for everything, Mr. John Strangewey," she +returned. "You have given me what we are all sighing for, a new +sensation--not exactly what I expected, perhaps, but something new." + +"I know you think I am a country yokel and a fool," John said; "but I +wish you'd tell me why you laughed at me in that mysterious fashion." + +She shook her head. + +"It would spoil it," she replied. "Besides, it isn't for me to tell you. +I am the last person who should." + +They drew up outside her little house, from which came no sign of light. + +"Will you dine with me to-night?" he asked suddenly. + +She turned toward him quickly--and understood. + +"Very nice of you," she replied lightly. "I shall go round to my club. +You don't agree with me, somehow. When I look at you or think of you, I +feel inclined either to laugh or cry, and I hate emotions. Don't get +out, please. You see, they are opening the door already." + +She slipped away and disappeared into her house. John drove slowly back +toward the Milan. Just as he was turning in, a little waterproofed +figure from the pavement waved her hand and called to him. He drew up +and she hastened to his side. + +"What are you doing here?" Sophy asked. "I thought you were spending the +week-end up the river." + +"I stayed there last night," he answered. "To-day--well, look at the +weather! I have just motored Lady Hilda up." + +"And what are you going to do now?" she inquired eagerly. + +"Give you some dinner," he replied promptly. + +"Hurrah!" she answered. "I have been so bored and miserable that I went +and walked over Waterloo Bridge in a mackintosh, just to get a little +air. I'll be round in an hour. Will that do?" + +"Any time you like," he agreed; "the sooner the better. I was almost +wishing, a few minutes ago," he went on, "that I could find the courage +to storm you in your little room. Louise is away, and I'm hating +myself." + +"So I am to come and amuse my lord!" she laughed. "Well, I'll come," she +went on quickly. "We'll sit and you shall imagine that I am Louise, and +make love to her. Will that make you happy?" + +John leaned out of the car. + +"Sophy," he whispered, as he slipped in his clutch, "just now I do not +feel like making love to any woman on earth!" + +"Fed up with us, eh?" + +He nodded. + +"You're different, thank Heaven! Don't be late." + + + + + XXIII + + +"This is very nearly my idea of perfect happiness," Sophy murmured, as +she leaned across the table and listened idly while John ordered the +dinner. "Give me very little to eat, John, and talk a great deal to me. +I am depressed about myself and worried about everything!" + +"And I," he declared, "am just beginning to breathe again. I don't think +I understand women, Sophy." + +"Wasn't your week-end party a success?" she asked. + +"Not altogether," he confessed; "but don't let's talk about it. Tell me +what is depressing you." + +"About myself, or things generally?" + +"Yourself, first." + +"Well, the most respectable young man you ever knew in your life, who +lives in Bath, wants me to marry him. I don't think I could. I don't +think I could live in Bath, and I don't think I could marry any one. And +I've just thirteen shillings and fourpence left, I haven't paid my rent, +and my dressmaker is calling for something on account on Monday +morning." + +"There's only one answer to that," John insisted cheerfully. "I am going +to lend you fifty pounds while you make your mind up about the young +man." + +She made a face at him. + +"I couldn't borrow money from a strange gentleman," she protested. + +"Rubbish!" he exclaimed. "If you begin calling me a stranger--but +there, never mind! We'll see about that after dinner. Now what is the +other cause for depression?" + +"I am not very happy about you and Louise," she observed. + +"Why not?" + +She hesitated. While she seemed to be pondering over her words, John +studied her almost critically. Unquestionably she was very pretty; her +fair hair was most becomingly arranged, her petite features and delicate +mouth were charming. Her complexion and coloring were exquisite, her +neck and throat very white against the plain black satin of her gown. + +"In a way," she confessed at last, "it's the play that's bothering me." + +"The play?" he repeated. + +"You won't like it," she sighed. "The reason the production has been +delayed so long is Graillot's insistence upon calling a spade a spade. +Even with all Louise and Miles Faraday have managed to get him to leave +out, there is one scene which is certainly a little startling for +English playgoers." + +"And Louise is in it?" he asked. + +"Louise is the principal figure in it." + +John's face darkened a little. + +"I have noticed lately," he remarked gloomily, "that she rather avoids +talking about the play. I wish she'd chuck it altogether!" + +Sophy shook her head. + +"Louise won't do that," she said. "I sometimes think that her work is +more to her than anything else in life. I suppose you two will find a +way out of it, somehow." + +"There is only one way, and Louise will have to make up her mind to +it," John declared steadfastly. "However, my time hasn't come just yet. +Until it comes, I must make the best of things. Tell me more about your +own love-affairs, Sophy." + +"It isn't a love-affair at all!" she exclaimed, almost indignantly. + +"Why, I am sorry. Your prospective alliance, then, shall I call it?" + +"Oh, it isn't interesting," she said. "It's just a young man in Bath. He +is a lawyer and moderately well off. He has wanted me to marry him for +years. He was a friend of my brother's. Lately he has been bothering a +little more than usual--in fact, I suppose I have received what might be +called an ultimatum. He came up yesterday, and I went out with him last +night. He has gone back to Bath this morning, and I have promised to let +him know in a month. I think that is why I went out to Waterloo Bridge +in a mackintosh and got wet." + +"Do you like him?" John asked practically. + +"I like him, I suppose," Sophy sighed. "That's the worst of it. If I +didn't like him, there might be some chance. I can't realize myself ever +doing more than liking him in a mild sort of way; and if he expected +more, as of course he would, then I should probably hate him. He tried +to kiss me on the way to the station and I nearly scratched him. That +isn't like me, you know. I rather like being kissed sometimes." + +John buried himself in the wine-list. + +"Well," he admitted, "it doesn't sound very hopeful. I'm no sort of +judge in these matters, but I have heard lots of people say that one +gets on all right after marriage without caring very much before. You +don't seem to have a very comfortable life now, do you?" + +"Comfortable? No, but I am free," Sophy replied quickly. "I can come in +and go out when I please, choose my own friends, give my kisses to whom +I please. Marriage--the sort of marriage mine would be--is slavery, and +nothing else. What I am afraid of," she went on, "is that when I was +down in that highly respectable old city, sitting all day in a +respectable little villa, with two servants to order about and +housekeeping-books to keep, I should feel the old pull come over me, and +some day I should chuck it all and come back here to play around under +the lights. It's rather fine to be here, you know--to be in the +atmosphere, even if the lime-light misses one." + +John sighed, and regarded her thoughtfully. + +"You're a queer little girl, Sophy," he said. "I don't know how to +advise you." + +"Of course you don't," she answered. "No one could. As for you, I +suppose you will marry Louise. What will happen to you after that, I +don't know. Perhaps I sha'n't care so much about London then. You've +made it very nice for me, you know." + +"You've made it bearable even for me," he told her. "I often think how +lonely I should have been without you to talk to. Louise sometimes is +delightfully companionable, and kind enough to turn one's head. Other +days I scarcely understand her; everything we say to one another seems +wrong. I come away and leave her simply because I feel that there is a +wall between us that I can't get over." + +"There isn't really," Sophy sighed. "Louise is a dear. Considering +everything, I think she is wonderful. But you are utterly different. She +is very complex, very emotional, and she has her own standards of life. +You, on the other hand, are very simple, very faithful and honest, and +you accept the standards which have been made for you--very, very +rigidly, John." + +"I wonder!" he murmured, as he looked into his wine-glass. "Sometimes I +think I am a fool. Sometimes I think I'd do better to let go the strings +and just live as others do. Sometimes ideas come into one's head that +upset principles and everything. I don't know!" + +Sophy leaned across the table toward him. + +"Be a little more human, John," she begged. "You must feel kind things +sometimes. Couldn't you say them? I am depressed and gloomy. Be like +other men, for once, and flirt with me a little! Try to say things, even +if you don't mean them--just for once, for a few short hours!" + +He held her hand for a moment. The fingers seemed to respond to his +touch with a little thrill. + +"You silly child!" he exclaimed. "If I were to begin to say all the kind +things I feel about you--" + +"Begin, then--begin!" she interrupted. "What do you think of me, really? +Am I pretty? Do you like to have me here at the table with you, or is +your mind too full of Louise? Do you notice that I've a pretty frock on, +and my hair is nicely arranged? I have taken so much trouble to-night. +What are you looking at?" + +John's whole expression had suddenly changed. His eyes were fixed upon +the door, his face was stern as a granite block. Sophy turned quickly +around. The _maître d'hôtel_, with another satellite in his rear, was +welcoming with much ceremony two lately arrived guests. Sophy clutched +at the table-cloth. The newcomers were Louise and the Prince of Seyre. + +"I don't understand this!" John muttered, his lips twitching. + +Sophy Gerard said nothing. Her cheeks were pink with excitement. + +Suddenly Louise saw John and Sophy. She stood quite still for a moment; +then she came toward them, slowly and a little languidly. The prince was +still studying through his eye-glass the various tables which the head +waiter was offering for his consideration. + +"What an astonishing meeting!" Louise remarked, as she laid her hand for +a moment on Sophy's shoulder. "What is going on behind my back?" + +John rose very slowly to his feet. He seemed taller than ever, and +Louise's smile remained unanswered. + +"The rain broke up my week-end party," he explained, "and I met Sophy in +the Strand. In any case, I intended returning to-night. I understood +that you would not be here until to-morrow about eleven o'clock." + +"Those were my plans," Louise replied; "but, as you see, other things +have intervened. Our little house party, too, was broken up by this +abominable weather, and we all motored up to town. The Faradays have +gone home. The prince heard from Miles that I was at home, and +telephoned me to dine. _Me voici!_" + +John was struggling with a crowd of hateful thoughts. Louise was wearing +a wonderful gown; her hair was beautifully arranged; she had the air of +a woman whose toilet was complete and perfect down to the slightest +detail. The prince's slow drawl reached them distinctly. + +"It was my servant's fault, I suppose," he said. "I told him to ring up +last night and order the table for two in that corner. However, we will +take the vacant one near your desk." + +He looked around and, as if for the first time, missed Louise. He came +toward them at once. + +"The prince seems to have ordered his table last night," John remarked, +his tone, even to himself, sounding queer and strained. + +Louise made no reply. The prince was already shaking hands with Sophy. + +"I thought you were spending the week-end with my cousin, Strangewey," +he remarked, turning to John. + +"We did spend part of it together," John replied. "The weather drove us +back this afternoon." + +"I congratulate you both on your good taste," said the prince. "There is +nothing more abominable than a riverside retreat out of season. We are +taking the table on the left, Louise." + +He led her away, and they passed down the room. John slowly resumed his +seat. + +"Sophy," he demanded hoarsely, "tell me the truth. Is there anything +between the prince and Louise?" + +Sophy nervously crumbled up the toast by her side. + +"The prince admires Louise, and has done so for many years," she +answered. "No one knows anything else. Louise never speaks of him to me. +I cannot tell you." + +"But you must know," he persisted, with a little break in his voice. +"Forgive me, Sophy, if I make an ass of myself. First Lady Hilda, and +then Graillot, and then--well, I thought Louise might have rung up to +see whether I was at home, if she came back sooner than she expected; +and the prince took the table last night!" + +She leaned over and patted him on the hand. + +"Don't worry," she begged. "If Louise has to choose some day between him +and you, I don't think she'll hesitate very long. And please remember +that you were commencing to flirt with me. I insist upon it! I won't be +put off. Don't look so stern, please. You look very statuesque and +perfect, but I don't want to dine with a piece of sculpture. Remember +that I am really looking very pretty, and that I am finding you too +attractive for my peace of mind. There's your text!" + +He poured a glass of wine and drank it off. + +"I'll do my best," he agreed. "If it sounds like rubbish, you can still +believe that I appreciate everything you've told me. You are pretty, and +I am lucky to have you here. Now I'll try to make you believe that I +think so." + +She leaned over so that her head almost touched his. + +"Go on, please!" she murmured. "Even if it hurts afterward, it will be +heavenly to listen to!" + + + + + XXIV + + +The next night Sophy acted as showman. Her part was over at the end of +the first act, and a few minutes later she slipped into a seat by John's +side behind the curtain. + +"What do you think of it so far?" she asked, a little anxiously. + +"It seems quite good," John replied cheerfully. "Some very clever lines, +and all that sort of thing; but I can't quite see what it's all leading +to." + +Sophy peered around the house from behind the curtain. + +"There isn't standing-room anywhere," she declared. "I don't suppose +there ever was a play in London that was more talked about; and then +putting it off for more than three months--why, there have been all +sorts of rumors about. Do you want to know who the people in the +audience are?" + +"Not particularly," John answered. "I shouldn't know them, if you told +me. There are just a few familiar faces. I see the prince in the box +opposite." + +"Did you telephone to Louise to-day?" Sophy asked. + +John shook his head. + +"No. I thought it better to leave her alone until after to-night." + +"You are going to the supper, of course?" + +"I have been asked," John replied, a little doubtfully. "I don't quite +know whether I want to. Is it being given by the prince or by the +management?" + +"The management," Sophy assured him. "Do come and take me! It's going to +be rather fun." + +The curtain went up upon the second act. John, from the shadows of the +box, listened attentively. The subject was not a particularly new one, +but the writing was brilliant. There was the old _Marquis de Guy_, a +roué, a degenerate, but still overbearing and full of personality, from +whose lips came some of Graillot's most brilliant sayings; Louise, his +wife; and Faraday, a friend of the old marquis, and obviously the +intended lover of his wife. + +"I don't see anything so terrible in this," John remarked, as the +curtain went down once more and thunders of applause greeted some +wonderful lines of Graillot's. + +"It's wonderful!" Sophy declared. "Try and bear the thread of it all in +your mind. For two acts you have been asked to focus your attention upon +the increasing brutality of the marquis. Remember that, won't you?" + +"Not likely to forget it," John replied. "How well they all act!" + +There was a quarter of an hour's interval before the curtain rose again. +Rumors concerning the last act had been floating about for weeks, and +the house was almost tense with excitement as the curtain went up. The +scene was the country _château_ of the _Marquis de Guy_, who brought a +noisy crowd of companions from Paris without any warning. His wife +showed signs of dismay at his coming. He had brought with him women whom +she declined to receive. + +The great scene between her husband and herself took place in the square +hall of the _château_, on the first floor. The marquis is on the way to +the room of one of his guests. Louise reaffirms her intention of +leaving the house. Her husband laughs at her. Her position is helpless. + +"What can you do?" he mocks. + +She shrugs her shoulders and passes into her room. The marquis sinks +upon a settee, and presently is joined by one of the ladies who have +traveled with him from Paris. He talks to her of the pictures upon the +wall. She is impatient to meet the _Marquis de Guy_. + +The marquis knocks at his wife's door. Her voice is heard clearly, after +a moment's pause. + +"In a few minutes!" she replies. + +The marquis resumes his flirtation. His companion becomes impatient--the +marquis has pledged his word that she should be received by his wife. An +ancient enmity against the _Marquis de Guy_ prompts her to insist. + +The marquis shrugs his shoulders and knocks more loudly than ever at his +wife's door. She comes out--followed by Faraday. + +"You asked me what I could do," she says, pointing to her lover. "You +see now!" + +There was a moment's breathless silence through the house. The scene in +itself was a little beyond anything that the audience had expected. +Sophy, who had been leaning over the edge of the box, turned around in +no little anxiety. She heard the door slam. John had disappeared! + +He left the theater with only his hat in his hand, turning up his coat +by instinct as he passed through the driving rain. All his senses seemed +tingling with some nameless horror. The brilliance of the language, the +subtlety of the situation, seemed like some evil trail drawn across that +one horrible climax. It was Louise who had come from that room and +pointed to Faraday! Louise who confessed herself a-- + +He broke out into language as he walked. The desire of Samson burned in +his heart--to stride back into the theater, to smash the scenery, to +throw the puppets from the stage, one by one, to end forever this +ghastly, unspeakable play. And all the time the applause rang in his +ears. He had read with one swift glance the tense interest--almost +lascivious, it seemed to him--on the faces of that great audience. The +scene had tickled their fancies. It was to pander to such base feelings +that Louise was upon the stage! + +He reached his rooms--he scarcely knew how--and walked up-stairs. There +he threw off some of his dripping garments, opened the window wide, and +stood there. + +He looked out over the Thames, and there was a red fire before his eyes. +Stephen was right, he told himself. There was nothing but evil to be +found here, nothing but bitter disappointment, nothing but the pain +which deepens into anguish. Better to remain like Stephen, unloving and +unloved, to draw nearer to the mountains, to find joy in the crops and +the rain and the sunshine, to listen stonily to the cry of human beings +as if to some voice from an unknown world. + +He leaned a little further from the window, and gazed into the court at +a dizzy depth below. He had cut himself adrift from the peace which +might have been his. He would never know again the joys of his earlier +life. It was for this that he had fought so many battles, clung so +tightly to one ideal--for Louise, who could show herself to any one who +cared to pay his shilling or his half-guinea, glorying in her dishonor; +worse than glorying in it--finding some subtle humor in the little +gesture with which she had pointed, unashamed, to her lover. + +John bent a little lower from the window. A sudden dizziness seemed to +have come over him. Then he was forced to turn around. His door had been +quickly opened and shut. It was Sophy who was crossing toward him, the +rain streaming from her ruined opera-cloak. + +"John!" she cried. "Oh, John!" + +She led him back to his chair and knelt by his side. She held his hands +tightly. + +"You mustn't feel like this," she sobbed; "you mustn't, John, really! +You don't understand. It's all a play. Louise wouldn't really do +anything like that!" + +He shivered. Nevertheless, he clutched her hands and drew her closer to +him. + +"Do, please, listen to me," she begged. "It's all over. Louise is +herself again--Louise Maurel. The _Marquis de Guy_ never lived except +upon these boards. It is simply a wonderful creation. Any one of the +great actresses would play that part and glory in it--the very greatest, +John. Oh, it's so hard to make you understand! Louise is waiting for +you. They are all waiting at the supper-party. You are expected. You +must go and tell her that you think it was wonderful!" + +He rose slowly to his feet. + +"Wonderful!" he muttered. "Wonderful! But, child, it is damnable!" + +"Don't be foolish," she answered. "Go and put on another dress coat, tie +your tie again, and brush your hair. I have come to take you to the +supper." + +He caught at her hands roughly. + +"Supposing I won't go?" he whispered hoarsely. "Supposing--I keep you +here instead, Sophy?" + +She swayed for a moment. Something flashed into her face and passed +away. She was paler than ever. + +"Dear John," she begged, "pull yourself together! Remember that Louise +is waiting for you. It's Louise you want--not me. Nothing that she has +done to-night should make her any the less worthy of you and your love." + +He strode away into the farther room. He reappeared in a moment or two, +his hair smoothly brushed, his tie newly arranged. + +"I'll come, little girl," he promised. "I don't know what I'll say to +her, but I'll come. There can't be any harm in that!" + +"Of course not," she answered cheerfully. "You're the most terrible +goose, John," she added, as they walked down the corridor. "Do, please, +lose your tragical air. The whole world is at Louise's feet to-night. +You mustn't let her know how absurdly you have been feeling. To-morrow +you will find that every paper in London will be acclaiming her genius." + +John squared his shoulders. + +"All the same," he declared grimly, "if I could burn the theater and the +play, and lock up Graillot for a month, to-night, I'd do it!" + + + + + XXV + + +The days and weeks drifted into months, and John remained in London. His +circle of friends and his interests had widened. It was only his +relations with Louise which remained still unchanged. Always charming to +him, giving him much of her time, favoring him, beyond a doubt, more +than any of her admirers, there was yet about her something elusive, +something which seemed intended to keep him so far as possible at arm's +length. + +There was nothing tangible of which he could complain, and this +probationary period was of his own suggestion. He bore it grimly, +holding his place, whenever it was possible, by her side with dogged +persistence. Then one evening there was a knock at his door, and Stephen +Strangewey walked in. + +After all, this meeting, of which John had often thought, and which +sometimes he had dreaded a little, turned out to be a very ordinary +affair. Stephen, although he seemed a little taller and gaunter than +ever, though he seemed to bring into the perhaps overwarmed atmosphere +of John's little sitting room something of the cold austerity of his own +domain, had evidently come in no unfriendly spirit. He took both his +brother's hands in his and gripped them warmly. + +"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, Stephen!" John declared. + +"It has been an effort to me to come," Stephen admitted. "But I had it +in my mind, John, that we parted bad friends. I have come to see how +things are with you." + +"Well enough," John answered evasively. "Sit down." + +Stephen held his brother away from him, gripping his shoulders with both +hands. He looked steadily into his face. + +"Well enough you may be, John," he said, "but your looks tell a +different story. There's a look in your eyes already that they all get +here, sooner or later." + +"Nonsense!" John protested cheerfully. "No one pretends that the life +here is quite as healthy as ours, physically, but that isn't everything. +I am a little tired to-day, perhaps. One spends one's time differently +up here, you know, and there's a little more call upon the brain, a +little less upon the muscles." + +"Give me an example," Stephen suggested. "What were you doing last +night, for instance?" + +John rang the bell for some tea, took his brother's hat and stick from +his hand, and installed him in an easy chair. + +"I went to a political meeting down in the East End," he replied. "One +of the things I am trying to take a little more interest in up here is +politics." + +"No harm in that, anyway," Stephen admitted. "That all?" + +"The meeting was over about eleven," John continued. "After that I came +up here, changed my clothes, and went to a dance." + +"At that time of night?" + +John laughed. + +"Why, nothing of that sort ever begins until eleven o'clock," he +explained. "I stayed there for about an hour or so, and afterward I +went round to a club I belong to, with the Prince of Seyre and some +other men. They played bridge, and I watched." + +"So that's one of your evenings, is it?" Stephen remarked. "No great +harm in such doings--nor much good, that I can see. With the Prince of +Seyre, eh?" + +"I see him occasionally." + +"He is one of your friends now?" + +"I suppose so," John admitted, frowning. "Sometimes I think he is, +sometimes I am not so sure. At any rate, he has been very kind to me." + +"He is by way of being a friend of the young woman herself, isn't he?" +Stephen asked bluntly. + +"He has been a friend of Miss Maurel since she first went on the stage," +John replied. "It is no doubt for her sake that he has been so kind to +me." + +"And how's the courting getting on?" Stephen demanded, his steely eyes +suddenly intent. + +"None too well," John confessed. + +"Are you still in earnest about it?" + +"Absolutely! More than ever!" + +Stephen produced his pipe from his pocket, and slowly filled it. + +"She is keeping you dangling at her heels, and giving you no sort of +answer?" + +"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," John declared, +good-humoredly. "I asked her to marry me as soon as I came up, and we +both agreed to wait for a time. You see, her life has been so +extraordinarily different from mine. I have only half understood the +things which to her are like the air she breathes. She is a great +artist, and I scarcely ever leave her without feeling appallingly +ignorant. Our life down in Cumberland, Stephen, is well enough in its +way, but it leaves us outside many of the great things of life." + +"That may be true enough, boy," Stephen admitted, blowing out dense +volumes of smoke from his pipe; "but are you sure that it's toward those +great things that she is pointing you?" + +"I am sure of it," John answered earnestly. "I appreciate that in my +heart. Let us talk together, Stephen, as we used. I will admit that I +have found most of the time up here wearisome. On the other hand, I am +beginning to understand that I have been, and still am, very ignorant. +There is so much in the world that one can only learn by experience." + +"And what are you willing to pay for the knowledge?" Stephen asked. +"Your health, I suppose, your simple life, your love of the pure +ways--all these are to go into the melting-pot?" + +"There's no such payment demanded for the things I am thinking of," John +assured his brother. "Take art, for instance: We reach the fringe of it +with our books. There are pictures, even here in London, which when you +look at them, especially with one who understands, give a new vigor to +your understanding, a new resource to living. You become conscious of a +new beauty in the world, a new garden, as it were, into which one can +wander every day and yet not explore it in a lifetime. I have seen +enough, Stephen, to make me want to go to Italy. It's a shameful thing +to keep one's brain and taste unemployed!" + +"Who takes you to see the pictures?" Stephen demanded. + +"Miss Maurel, generally. She understands these things better than any +one I have ever talked with." + +"Pictures, eh?" Stephen grunted. + +"I mentioned pictures as an example," John continued; "but the love of +them includes many other things." + +"Theaters?" + +"Of course," John assented. "It's no good being narrow about theaters, +Stephen. You read books readily enough, and theaters are only living +books, after all. There is no real difference." + +"There is a difference in plays, though, as there is a difference in +books," Stephen reminded him. "What about the play Miss Maurel is acting +in now? She's a man's mistress in it, isn't she, and glories in it?" + +John, who had been walking about the room, came and sat down opposite to +his brother. He leaned a little forward. + +"Stephen," he confessed, "I loathed that play the first night I saw it. +I sha'n't forget how miserable I was. Louise was so wonderful that I +could see how she swayed all that audience just by lifting or dropping +her voice; but the story was a horror to me. The next day--well, she +talked to me. She was very kind and very considerate. She explained many +things. I try my best, now, to look at the matter from her point of +view." + +Stephen's eyes were filled for a moment with silent scorn. Then he +knocked out the ashes from his pipe. + +"You're content, then, to let the woman you want to make your wife show +herself on the stage and play the wanton for folks to grin at?" he +asked. + +John rose once more to his feet. + +"Look here, Stephen," he begged, a little wistfully, "it isn't any use +talking like that, is it? If you have come here with evil things in your +mind about the woman I love, we had better shake hands and part +quickly. She'll be my wife some day, or I shall count my life a failure, +and I don't want to feel that words have passed between us--" + +"I'll say no more, John," Stephen interrupted. "I was hoping, when I +came, that there might be a chance of seeing you back home again soon. +It's going to be an early spring. There was June sunshine yesterday. It +lay about the hillsides all day and brought the tender greens out of the +earth. It opened the crocuses, waxy yellow and white, all up the garden +border. The hedgerows down in the valley smelled of primrose and +violets. Art and pictures! I never had such schooling as you, John, but +there was old Dr. Benson at Clowmarsh--I always remember what he said +one day, just before I left. I'd been reading Ruskin, and I asked him +what art was and what it meant. 'My boy,' he answered, 'art simply +represents man's passionate desire to drag the truth out of life in half +a dozen different ways. God does it for you in the country!' They called +him an ignorant man, old Benson, for a schoolmaster, but when I'd +struggled through what I could of Ruskin, I came to the conclusion that +he and I were something of the same mind." + +"It's good to hear you talk like that, Stephen," John said earnestly. +"You're making me homesick, but what's the sense of it? For good or for +evil, I am here to wrestle with things for a bit." + +"It's no easy matter for me to open out the things that are in my +heart," Stephen answered. "I am one of the old-fashioned Strangeweys. +What I feel is pretty well locked up inside. The last time you and I met +perhaps I spoke too much; so here I am!" + +"It's fine of you," John declared. "I remember nothing of that day. We +will look at things squarely together, even where we differ. I'm--" + +He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The door had been suddenly +opened, and Sophy Gerard made a somewhat impetuous entrance. + +"I'm absolutely sick of ringing, John," she exclaimed. "Oh, I beg your +pardon! I hadn't the least idea you had any one with you." + +She stood still in surprise, a little apologetic smile upon her lips. +John hastened forward and welcomed her. + +"It's all right, Sophy," he declared. "Let me introduce my brother, may +I? My brother Stephen--Miss Sophy Gerard." + +Stephen rose slowly from his place, laid down his pipe, and bowed +stiffly to Sophy. She held out her hand, however, and smiled up at him +delightfully. + +"How nice of you to come and see your poor, lonely brother!" she said. +"We have done our best to spoil him, but I am afraid he is very homesick +sometimes. I hope you've come to stay a long time and to learn all about +London, as John is doing. If you are half as nice as he is, we'll give +you such a good time!" + +From his great height, Stephen looked down upon the girl's upturned face +a little austerely. She chattered away, entirely unabashed. + +"I do hope you're not shocked at my bursting in upon your brother like +this! We really are great pals, and I live only just across the way. We +are much less formal up here, you know, than you are in the country. +John, I've brought you a message from Louise." + +"About to-night?" + +She nodded. + +"Louise is most frightfully sorry," she explained, "but she has to go +down to Streatham to open a bazaar, and she can't possibly be back in +time to dine before the theater. Can you guess what she dared to +suggest?" + +"I think I can," John replied, smiling. + +"Say you will, there's a dear," she begged. "I am not playing to-night. +May Enser is going on in my place. We arranged it a week ago. I had two +fines to pay on Saturday, and I haven't had a decent meal this week. But +I had forgotten," she broke off, with a sudden note of disappointment in +her tone. "There's your brother. I mustn't take you away from him." + +"We'll all have dinner together," John suggested. "You'll come, of +course, Stephen?" + +Stephen shook his head. + +"Thank you," he said, "I am due at my hotel. I'm going back to +Cumberland to-morrow morning, and my errand is already done." + +"You will do nothing of the sort!" John declared. + +"Please be amiable," Sophy begged. "If you won't come with us, I shall +simply run away and leave you with John. You needn't look at your +clothes," she went on. "We can go to a grill-room. John sha'n't dress, +either. I want you to tell me all about Cumberland, where this brother +of yours lives. He doesn't tell us half enough!" + +John passed his arm through his brother's and led him away. + +"Come and have a wash, old chap," he said. + +They dined together at Luigi's, a curiously assorted trio--Sophy, +between the two men, supplying a distinctly alien note. She was always +gay, always amusing, but although she addressed most of her remarks to +Stephen, he never once unbent. He ate and drank simply, seldom speaking +of himself or his plans, and firmly negativing all their suggestions +for the remainder of the evening. Occasionally he glanced at the clock. +John became conscious of a certain feeling of curiosity, which in a +sense Sophy shared. + +"Your brother seems to me like a man with a purpose," she said, as they +stood in the entrance-hall on their way out of the restaurant. "Like a +prophet with a mission, perhaps I should say." + +John nodded. In the little passage where they stood, he and Stephen +seemed to dwarf the passers-by. The men, in their evening clothes and +pallid faces, seemed suddenly insignificant, and the women like dolls. + +"For the last time, Stephen," John said, "won't you come to a music-hall +with us?" + +"I have made my plans for the evening, thank you," Stephen replied, +holding out his hand. "Good night!" + +He left them standing there and walked off down the Strand. John, +looking after him, frowned. He was conscious of a certain foreboding. + + + + + XXVI + + +"I suppose," Sophy sighed, as they waited for a taxicab, "we shall spend +the remainder of the evening in the usual fashion!" + +"Do you mind?" John asked. + +"No," she assented resignedly. "That play will end by making a driveling +idiot of me. Only think for yourself! At first we had to rehearse an +extra month to please M. Graillot. I never had more than a dozen lines +to say, even before my part was practically cut out, but I had to be +there every time. Now it has been running for I don't know how many +nights, I have played in it half the time, and if your highness ever +vouchsafes me a few hours in the evening, you turn to me about nine +o'clock with just the same plaintive expression, and murmur something +about going on to the theater!" + +"We'll do something else to-night," John proposed heroically. "I really +had no idea that you were so fed up with it." + +Sophy shook her head. They were in the taxicab now and on their way. + +"Too late!" she sighed. "Besides, my sense of economy revolts at the +idea of your empty box. If Louise is tired to-night, though, I warn you +that I shall insist upon supper." + +"It's a bargain," John promised. "We'll drive Louise home, and then I'll +take you back to Luigi's. We haven't been out together for some time, +have we?" + +She looked up at him with a little grimace and patted his hand. + +"You have neglected me," she said. "I think all these fine ladies have +turned your head." + +She drew a little closer to him and passed her arm through his. John +made no responsive movement. He was filled with resentment at the +sensation of pleasure that her affectionate gesture gave him. + +"I might as well try to flirt with a statue!" she declared, +discontentedly. "What makes you so unlike other people, you man of +granite? You used to kiss me very clumsily when I asked you to, and +now--why, how hot your hand is!" + +John pushed her away almost roughly. + +"Yes, I know I did," he admitted, "and now I don't want to any more, do +you see? It's this cursed place and this cursed life! One's feet seem +always on the sands. I wouldn't have believed it when I first came here. +Don't tease me, Sophy," he added, turning toward her suddenly. "I am +rather inclined to despise myself these last few weeks. Don't make me +worse--don't make me loathe myself!" + +She shrugged her shoulders a little pettishly as she leaned back in the +cab. + +"You are nothing but a crank," she declared; "you and your brother, too! +You've lived among those flinty rocks till you've become almost like +them yourselves." + +The taxi drew up at the theater. John, with a little sigh of relief, was +already out upon the pavement. Sophy's eyes were still shining at him +through her veil, as she walked lightly and gracefully by his side, but +he led the way in silence down the stairs to the box that he had taken +for the season. + +"And now," she exclaimed with a pout, as she leaned back in the corner, +"my little reign is over! You will sit in the front seat and you will +look at Louise, and feel Louise, and your eyes will shine Louise, until +the moment for your escape comes, when you can go round to the back and +meet her; and then you will try to make excuses to get rid of me, so +that you can drive her home alone!" + +"Rubbish, Sophy!" he answered, as he drew a chair to her side. "You know +quite well that I can't sit in the front of the box, for the very +prosaic reason that I haven't changed my clothes. We shall both have to +linger here in the shadows." + +"Well, there is some comfort in that, at any rate," Sophy confessed. "If +I become absolutely overcome by my emotions, I can hold your hand." + +"You had better not," John observed. "The stage manager has his eye on +you. If his own artists won't behave in the theater, what can he expect +of the audience?" + +Sophy made a little grimace. "If they stop my three pounds a week," she +murmured, "I shall either have to starve or become your valet!" + +The curtain was up and the play in progress--a work of genius rather in +its perfectly balanced development and its phraseology than in any +originality of motive. Louise, married as an ingénue, so quickly +transformed into the brilliant woman of society poking mild fun at the +unsympathetic husband to whom she has been sold while still striving to +do her duty as a wife, easily dominated every situation. The witty +speeches seemed to sparkle upon her lips. While she was upon the stage, +every spoken sentence was listened to with rapt attention. Graillot, +seated as usual among the shadows of the opposite box, moved his head +appreciatively each time she spoke, as if punctuating the measured +insolence of her brilliance. + +Exquisitely gowned, full of original and daring gestures, she moved +about the stage as if her feet scarcely touched the boards. She was full +of fire and life in the earlier stages of the comedy. She heaped mild +ridicule upon her husband and his love-affairs, exchanged light sallies +with her guests, or parried with resourceful subtlety the constant +appeals of the man she loved. + +The spell of it all, against which he had so often fought, came over +John anew. He set his chair back against the wall and watched and +listened, a veritable sense of hypnotism creeping over his senses. +Presently the same impulse which had come to him so many times before +induced him to turn his head, to read in the faces of the audience the +reflection of her genius. He had often watched those long lines of faces +changing, each in its own way, under the magic of her art. To-night he +looked beyond. He knew very well that his search had a special object. +Suddenly he gripped the arms of his chair. In the front row of the pit, +sitting head and shoulders taller than the men and women who lounged +over the wooden rest in front of them, was Stephen. More than ever, +among these unappropriate surroundings, he seemed to represent something +almost patriarchal, a forbidding and disapproving spirit sitting in +judgment upon some modern and unworthy wantonness. His face, stern and +grave, showed little sign of approval or disapproval, but to John's +apprehending eyes the critical sense was there, the verdict foredoomed. +He understood as in a flash that Stephen had come there to judge once +more the woman whom his brother desired. + +At last the second act ended, and John pushed back his chair. Sophy, +whose apprehensions were remarkably acute, especially where John was +concerned, lifted the edge of the curtain and understood. She exchanged +a quick glance with her companion. + +"He won't like it!" she whispered. + +"If only we could get him away before the next act!" John muttered. + +They both glanced once more into the auditorium below. Many of the +spectators had left their places to stroll about. Not so Stephen. +Unflinchingly he sat there, with an air of dogged patience. He had +bought a program and was reading the names, one by one. + +"Is there nothing we can do?" Sophy asked. "Couldn't we send a +message--persuade him that the last act isn't worth staying for?" + +John shook his head. + +"Stephen has come here with a purpose," he said gloomily. "I might have +guessed it. He will see it through. He will sit there till the end." + +The curtain went up again and the play moved on, with subtle yet +inevitable dramatic power, toward the hated and dreaded crisis. Louise's +moment of combined weakness and strength was so wonderfully natural, so +very human, that its approach sent a thrill of anticipation through the +audience. The intense lifelikeness of the play predominated over every +other feeling. It was as if real things were happening, as if they were +watching and listening to a woman at the moment of her choice. And then +at last the tense moment, the sudden cessation of her husband's foolish +laughter and futile taunts, the supreme dénouement with its interval of +breathless silence. + +John, who was slowly tearing his program to pieces, turned his head +toward the spot where his brother was sitting in the dimmer light. +Stephen's countenance seemed to have changed into the color as well as +the likeness of those granite rocks. The line of faces on either side of +him appeared now curiously featureless. His eyes were still riveted upon +that closed door, his eyebrows had come together in a stupendous frown. + +Sophy had parted the curtain and was peeping through. + +"Nothing in the world could make him understand!" she murmured. "Do you +think it would be of any use if we met him outside?" + +John shook his head. + +"You can't convince people," he replied, "when you are unconvinced +yourself." + +The play came to an end presently, amid a storm of applause. The grim +figure in the front of the pit remained motionless and silent. He was +one of the last to leave, and John watched his retreating figure with a +sigh. Sophy drew him away. + +"We had better hurry round," she said. "Louise is always very quick +getting ready." + +They found her, as a matter of fact, in the act of leaving. She welcomed +them naturally enough, but John fancied that her greeting showed some +signs of embarrassment. + +"You knew that I was going out to supper to-night?" she asked. "Or +didn't I tell you? The prince has asked the French people from His +Majesty's to meet M. Graillot at supper. I am hurrying home to dress." + +John handed her into her waiting automobile in silence. She glanced into +his face. + +"Is anything the matter?" she asked. + +"Nothing!" + +"The prince would have asked you, without a doubt," Louise continued, +"but he knows that you are not really interested in the stage, and this +party is entirely French--they do not speak a word of English. _Au +revoir!_ Sophy, take care of him, and mind you behave yourselves!" + +She waved her hand to them both and threw herself back among the +cushions as the car glided off. John walked to the corner of the street +in gloomy silence. Then he remembered his companion. He stopped short. + +"Sophy," he begged, "don't hold me to my promise. I don't want to take +you out to supper to-night. I am not in the humor for it." + +"Don't be foolish!" she replied. "If you stay alone, you will only +imagine things and be miserable. We needn't have any supper, unless you +like. Let me come and sit in your rooms with you." + +"No!" he decided, almost roughly. "I am losing myself, Sophy. I am +losing something of my strength every day. Louise doesn't help as she +might. Don't stay with me, please. I am beginning to have moods, and +when they come on I want to be alone." + +She drew a little closer to him. + +"Let me come, please!" she begged, with a pathetic, almost childlike +quiver at the corner of her lips. + +He looked down at her. A sudden wave of tenderness swept every other +thought from his mind. His mental balance seemed suddenly restored. He +hailed a passing taxi and handed Sophy into it. + +"What a selfish pig I am!" he exclaimed. "Anyhow, it's all over now. +We'll go back to Luigi's to supper, by all means. I am going to make you +tell me all about that young man from Bath!" + + + + + XXVII + + +Louise glanced at her watch, sat up in bed, and turned reproachfully +toward Aline. + +"Aline, do you know it is only eleven o'clock?" she exclaimed. + +"I am very sorry, _madame_," the latter hastened to explain, "but there +is a gentleman down-stairs who wishes to see you. He says he will wait +until you can receive him. I thought you would like to know." + +"A gentleman at this hour of the morning?" Louise yawned. "How absurd! +Anyhow, you ought to know better than to wake me up before the proper +time." + +"I am very sorry, _madame_," Aline replied. "I hesitated for some time, +but I thought you would like to know that the gentleman was here. It is +Mr. Stephen Strangewey--Mr. John's brother." + +Louise clasped her knees with her fingers and sat thinking. She was wide +awake now. + +"He has been here some time already, _madame_," Aline continued. "I did +not wish to disturb you, but I thought perhaps it was better for you to +know that he was here." + +"Quite right, Aline," Louise decided. "Go down and tell him that I will +see him in half an hour, and get my bath ready at once." + +Louise dressed herself simply but carefully. She could conceive of but +one reason for Stephen's presence in her house, and it rather amused +her. It was, of course, no friendly visit. He had come either to +threaten or to cajole. Yet what could he do? What had she to fear? She +went over the interview in her mind, imagining him crushed and subdued +by her superior subtlety and finesse. + +With a little smile of coming triumph upon her lips she descended the +stairs and swept into her pleasantly warmed and perfumed little +drawing-room. She even held out her hand cordially to the dark, grim +figure whose outline against the dainty white wall seemed so +inappropriate. + +"This is very nice of you indeed, Mr. Strangewey," she began. "I had no +idea that you had followed your brother's example and come to town." + +She told herself once more that her slight instinct of uneasiness had +been absurd. Stephen's bow, although a little formal and austere, was +still an acknowledgment of her welcome. The shadows of the room, +perhaps, had prevented him from seeing her outstretched hand. + +"Mine is a very short visit, Miss Maurel," he said. "I had no other +reason for coming but to see John and to pay this call upon you." + +"I am greatly flattered," she told him. "You must please sit down and +make yourself comfortable while we talk. See, this is my favorite +place," she added, dropping into a corner of her lounge. "Will you sit +beside me? Or, if you prefer, draw up that chair." + +"My preference," he replied, "is to remain standing." + +She raised her eyebrows. Her tone altered. + +"It must be as you wish, of course," she continued; "only I have such +pleasant recollections of your hospitality at Peak Hall that I should +like, if there was any possible way in which I could return it--" + +"Madam," he interrupted, "you must admit that the hospitality of Peak +Hall was not willingly offered to you. Save for the force of +circumstances, you would never have crossed our threshold." + +She shrugged her shoulders. She was adapting her tone and manner to the +belligerency of his attitude. + +"Well?" + +"You want to know why I have found my way to London?" he went on. "I +came to find out a little more about you." + +"About me?" + +"To discover if there was anything about you," he proceeded +deliberately, "concerning which report had lied. I do not place my faith +in newspapers and gossip. There was always a chance that you might have +been an honest woman. That is why I came to London, and why I went to +see your play last night." + +She was speechless. It was as if he were speaking to her in some foreign +tongue. + +"I have struggled," he continued, "to adopt a charitable view of your +profession. I know that the world changes quickly, while we, who prefer +to remain outside its orbit, of necessity lose touch with its new ideas +and new fashions. So I said to myself that there should be no mistake. +For that reason I sat in a theater last night almost for the first time +in my life. I saw you act." + +"Well?" she asked almost defiantly. + +He looked down at her. All splendid self-assurance seemed ebbing away. +She felt a sudden depression of spirit, a sudden strange sense of +insignificance. + +"I have come," he said, "if I can, to buy my brother's freedom." + +"To buy your brother's freedom?" she repeated, in a dazed tone. + +"My brother is infatuated with you," Stephen declared. "I wish to save +him." + +Her woman's courage began to assert itself. She raised her eyes to his. + +"Exactly what do you mean?" she asked calmly. "In what way is any man to +be saved from me? If your brother should care for me, and I, by any +chance, should happen to care for him, in what respect would that be a +state from which he would require salvation?" + +"You make my task more difficult," he observed deliberately. "Does it +amuse you to practise your profession before one so ignorant and so +unappreciative as myself? If my brother should ever marry, it is my firm +intention that he shall marry an honest woman." + +Louise sat quite still for a moment. A flash of lightning had glittered +before her eyes, and in her ears was the crash of thunder. Her face was +suddenly strained. She saw nothing but the stern, forbidding expression +of the man who looked down at her. + +"You dare to say this to me, here in my own house?" + +"Dare? Why not? Don't people tell you the truth here in London, then?" + +She rose a little unsteadily to her feet, motioning him toward the door, +and moving toward the bell. Suddenly she sank back into her former +place, breathless and helpless. + +"Why do you waste your breath?" he asked calmly. "We are alone here, and +I--we know the truth!" + +She sat quite still, shivering a little. + +"Do we? Tell me, then, because I am curious--tell me why you are so sure +of what you say?" + +"The world has it," he replied, "that you are the mistress of the Prince +of Seyre. I came to London to satisfy myself as to the truth of that +report. Do you believe that any man living, among that audience last +night, could watch the play and know that you passed, night after night, +into your bed-chamber to meet your lover with that look upon your +face--you are a clever actress, madam--and believe that you were a woman +who was living an honest life?" + +"That seems impossible to you?" she demanded. + +"Utterly impossible!" + +"And to John?" + +"I am speaking for myself and not for my brother," Stephen replied. "Men +like him, who are assailed by a certain madness, are best left alone +with it. That is why I came to you to bargain, if I could. Is there +anything that you lack--anything which your own success and your lover, +or lovers, have failed to provide for you?" + +It was useless to try to rise; she was powerless in all her limbs. Side +by side with the anger and horror that his words aroused was a sense of +something almost grotesque, something which seemed to force an unnatural +laugh from her lips. + +"So you want to buy me off?" + +"I should be glad to believe that it was within my power to do so. I +have not John's great fortune, but I have money, the accumulated savings +of a lifetime, for which I have no better purpose. There is one more +thing, too, to be said." + +"Another charge?" + +"Not that," he told her; "only it is better for you to understand that +if you turn me from your house this morning, I shall still feel the +necessity of saving my brother from you." + +"Saving him from me?" she exclaimed, rising suddenly and throwing out +her arms. "Do you know what you are talking about? Do you know that if I +consented to think of your brother as my husband, there is not a man in +London who would not envy him? Look at me! I am beautiful, am I not? I +am a great artist. I am Louise Maurel, and I have made myself famous by +my own work and my own genius. What has your brother done in life to +render him worthy of the sacrifice I should make if I chose to give him +my hand? You had better go back to Cumberland, Mr. Strangewey. You do +not see life as we see it up here!" + +"And what about John?" he asked, without moving. "You tempted him away. +Was it from wantonness, or do you love him?" + +"Love him?" she laughed. "I hate you both! You are boors--you are +ignorant people. I hate the moment I ever saw either of you. Take John +back with you. Take him out of my life. There is no place there for +him!" + +Stephen picked up his hat from the sofa where it lay. Louise remained +perfectly still, her breath coming quickly, her eyes lit with passion. + +"Madam," he said, "I am sorry to have distressed you, but the truth +sometimes hurts the most callous of us. You have heard the truth from +me. I will take John back to Cumberland with me, if he will come. If he +will not--" + +"Take him with you!" she broke in fiercely. "He will do as I bid him--do +you hear? If I lift my little finger, he will stay. It will be I who +decide, I--" + +"But you will not lift your little finger," he interrupted grimly. + +"Why shouldn't I, just to punish you?" she demanded. "There are scores +of men who fancy themselves in love with me. If I choose, I can keep +them all their lives hanging to the hem of my skirt, praying for a word, +a touch. I can make them furious one day and penitent the next--wretched +always, perhaps, but I can keep them there. Why should I not treat your +brother in the same way?" + +He seemed suddenly to dilate. She was overcome with a sense of some +latent power in the man, some commanding influence. + +"Because," he declared, "I am the guardian of my brother's happiness. +Whoever trifles with it shall in the future reckon with me!" + +His eyes were fixed upon her soft, white throat. His long, lean fingers +seemed suddenly to be drawing near to her. She watched him, fascinated. +She was trying to scream. Even after he had turned away and left her, +after she had heard his measured tramp descending the stairs, her +fingers flew to her throat. She held herself tightly, standing there +with beating heart and throbbing pulses. It was not until the front door +had closed that she had the strength to move, to throw herself face +downward upon the couch. + + + + + XXVIII + + +Louise ate a very small luncheon, but--an unusual thing for her--she +drank two glasses of wine. Just as she had finished, Sophy came in, with +ink-stained fingers and a serious expression. + +"You silly child!" Louise exclaimed. "No one told me you were here. Have +you had any lunch?" + +"Long ago," Sophy replied. "I have been finishing your accounts." + +Louise made a little grimace. + +"Tell me the worst," she begged. + +"You are overdrawn at your bank, your bills are heavier than ever this +month, and there are five or six special accounts--one for some electric +fittings, another for the hire of a motor-car--which ought to be paid." + +"People are always wanting money!" Louise declared pettishly. + +"People always will want money," Sophy retorted, "so long as you earn +three thousand a year and spend four or five thousand!" + +Louise selected a cigarette and lit it. + +"Instead of scolding me, child," she yawned, "suppose you suggest +something?" + +"What is there to suggest?" Sophy replied. "Your bank has written you to +put your overdraft straight at once--it comes to about two hundred and +seventy pounds. There are bills, for which the people are asking for +payment, and which come to about as much again. You've nothing but your +hundred pounds a week, and you're spending half of that, as it is." + +Louise flicked the ash from her cigarette. + +"And even you, my child, don't know the worst," she remarked. "There's +Fenillon, my dressmaker. She doesn't send me a bill at all, but I owe +her nearly six hundred pounds. I have to wear a shockingly unbecoming +gown in the second act, as it is, just because she's getting +disagreeable." + +"Well, I've tried to set things straight," Sophy declared. "You'll have +either to marry or to borrow some money. You can't go on much longer!" + +Louise was looking up at the ceiling. She sighed. + +"It would be nice," she said, "to have some one to pay one's bills and +look after one, and see that one wasn't too extravagant." + +"Well, you need some one badly," Sophy asserted. "I suppose you mean to +make up your mind to it some day." + +"I wonder!" Louise murmured. "Did you know that that terrible man from +the hills--John Strangewey's brother--has been here this morning? He +frightened me almost to death." + +"What did he want?" Sophy asked curiously. + +"He was a trifle vague," Louise remarked. "I gathered that if I don't +send John back to Cumberland, he's going to strangle me." + +Sophy leaned across the table. + +"Are you going to send him back?" she asked. + +"I am in an uncertain frame of mind," Louise confessed. "I really can't +decide about anything." + +Sophy poured herself out some coffee. + +"I think," she said, "that you'll have to decide about John before +long." + +"About John, indeed!" Louise exclaimed lightly. "Who gave you the right +to call him by his Christian name?" + +Sophy colored. + +"I suppose I have just dropped into it," she remarked. "Tell me what you +have decided to do, Louise?" + +"Why should I do anything at all?" + +"You know very well," Sophy insisted, "that you have encouraged John +Strangewey shamefully. You have persuaded him to live up here, to make +new friends, and to start an entirely new mode of life, just in the hope +that some day you will marry him." + +"Have I?" Louise asked. "Then I suppose I must keep my word--some day!" + +Sophy drew her chair a little nearer to her friend's. She passed her arm +around Louise's waist; their heads almost touched. + +"Dear Louise," she whispered, "please tell me!" + +Louise was silent. Her hesitation became momentous. Her eyes seemed to +be looking through the walls. Sophy watched her breathlessly. + +"You ought to make up your mind," she went on. "You see, it isn't as if +there was no one else. There is the prince." + +Sophy felt the fingers that she was clasping grow a little colder. + +"Yes," Louise repeated, "there is the prince. Sophy, I feel that I am +drifting into an impossible position. Every day is bringing me nearer to +it." + +"I want to tell you this, Louise," Sophy said firmly. "John is getting +to know a great many people, and you know how men talk at the clubs. +Aren't you sometimes afraid that he will hear things and misunderstand?" + +"I am expecting it every day," Louise admitted. + +"Then why don't you end it?" + +"Which way?" + +There was a silence between the two women. The muffled street noises +from outside became the background to a stillness which grew every +moment more oppressive. Louise returned to her former attitude. She +looked steadfastly before her, her face supported by her hands. + +Sophy grew paler and paler as the minutes passed. There was something +strange and almost beautiful in Louise's face, something which had come +to her lately, and which shone from her eyes only at rare intervals. + +"You care for him, I believe!" Sophy cried at last. "You care for him!" + +Louise did not move. + +"Why not?" she whispered. + +"You, Louise!" Sophy gasped. "You, the great artist! Why, think of the +men who have tried to make you care--poets, musicians--so many of them, +so many famous men! It can't be true. John Strangewey is so far apart. +He doesn't belong to your world." + +Louise leaned over and stroked her little friend's hair. + +"Child," she said, "that's all very true. I have had it ringing in my +brain for longer than you would believe. But now tell me something. No, +look at me--don't be ashamed. Are you in love with John yourself?" + +Sophy never hesitated. + +"From the very first moment I saw him," she confessed. "Don't let that +bother you, dear. He would never look at me except as a little pal. I +never expected anything from him--anything serious, of course--never +dared to hope for it. I have thrown myself at his head in the most +shameless manner. It is all no good. I never met any one like him +before. Louise, do you know that he is good--really good?" + +"I believe he is," Louise murmured. "That is what makes it so +wonderful." + +"It's all incomprehensible," Sophy declared wearily. + +There was a ring at the front door. Louise, from her place, could see +the long, gray bonnet of John's car. Almost before she could speak, he +was announced. + +"It's an atrocious time to come, I know--" he began apologetically. + +"You're in time for some coffee, anyhow," Sophy told him cheerfully. +"And I know Louise is glad to see you, because if you hadn't come I was +going to make her go through some accounts." + +"You know I am always glad to see you," Louise murmured, pointing to a +chair. "Sophy and I have been having a most interesting discussion, but +we have come to a _cul-de-sac_." + +"I really came," John explained, "to ask if you cared to come and see a +collection of pictures. There's an Italian--a Futurist, of course--just +unpacked his little lot and set them up over a curiosity-shop in +Clifford Street. He is sending out cards for next week, but I could take +you to-day--that is, if you would care about it. We can go somewhere for +some tea afterward." + +Louise made a little grimace. + +"What bad luck!" she exclaimed. + +She stopped short. She felt that by her hesitation she had, in a sense, +committed herself. + +"I have promised to go and have tea with the prince at Seyre House," she +said. "It is an engagement we made last week." + +John set down his empty coffee-cup with a clatter. An inexplicable but +dominating fury seemed to have suddenly assailed him. He took out a +cigarette and tried to light it. Sophy, after watching him for a moment +in astonishment, slipped out of the room. Louise came over to his side. + +"Are you really so much disappointed?" she asked. "I am so sorry. If I +had known that you were coming for me, I would have kept myself free." + +"It isn't that exactly," John answered. "It's something I can't +altogether explain. If you don't mind, I think I will be going. There is +something I must put right." + +He left without another word. She watched him step into his new +motor-car and drive away a little recklessly, considering the crowded +state of the streets. He drew up, a few minutes later, outside the club +in Pall Mall, where, as it chanced, he had lunched that day with the +Prince of Seyre. + +He found the prince still sitting in the smoking room, reading a review, +over the top of which he glanced up as John approached, and nodded +nonchalantly. + +"Back again?" he murmured. + +"I came back to have a word with you, prince." + +The prince laid down the review, keeping his finger in the place. + +"Delighted!" + +"Not long ago," John went on, "in this room, some one--I think it was +Major Charters--asked you what you were doing this afternoon. You +replied that you were engaged. There were several others present, and +they began to chaff you. Perhaps I joined in--I don't remember. I think +that it was Major Charters who asked you, to use his own words, whether +your appointment was with a lady. You replied in the affirmative. There +was a little volley of chaff. You listened without contradiction to many +references concerning the nature of your afternoon's amusement." + +The prince nodded slightly. His face remained quite expressionless. + +"As a matter of fact," John concluded, "I have discovered by the purest +accident that Miss Maurel is to be your guest this afternoon at Seyre +House." + +The prince inclined his head gently. He remained monosyllabic. + +"Well?" + +John frowned heavily. + +"Can't you see," he went on bluntly, "that if any one of those men who +were present, and heard what was said about your guest, found out +afterward that it was Miss Maurel who came to see you--well, I need not +go on, need I? I am sure you understand. The things which were hinted at +could not possibly apply to her. Would you mind sending a note to Miss +Maurel and asking her to have tea with you some other afternoon?" + +"And why the deuce should I do that?" the prince asked, a trifle paler, +but entirely self-possessed. + +"To oblige me," John replied. + +The prince wiped his eye-glass carefully upon his handkerchief. + +"Mr. Strangewey, you are a very amiable young man," he said equably, "to +whom I have tried to show some kindness for Miss Maurel's sake. I really +do not see, however--pardon my putting it plainly--what business this +is of yours." + +"It is my business," John declared, "because I have asked Miss Maurel to +be my wife, and because I am hoping that some day, before very long, she +will consent." + +The prince sat quite still in his chair, his eyes fixed upon a certain +spot in the carpet. He had not even the appearance of being engaged in +thought. He seemed only steeped in a sort of passivity. Finally, with a +sigh, he rose to his feet. + +"My young friend," he decided, "your statement alters the situation. I +did not credit you with matrimonial intentions. I must see what can be +done!" + +His lips had relaxed ever so slightly--so slightly that they showed only +a glimpse of his teeth in one straight, hard line. He looked at John +mildly, and his words seemed destitute of all offense; yet John felt +that the lightnings were playing around them. + +"I shall write a note to Miss Maurel," the prince promised, as he made +his way toward the writing-table, "and ask her to visit me upon some +other afternoon." + + + + + XXIX + + +Back again to his rooms, and, later on, once more to Louise's little +house in Kensington; a few minutes' masterful pleading, and then +success. Louise wrapped herself up and descended to the street by his +side. + +For an hour or more John drove steadily westward, scarcely speaking more +than a chance word. It was twilight when he brought the car to a +standstill. Louise raised her veil and looked up. + +"Well?" she asked inquiringly. + +He pushed back the throttle on his steering-wheel and stopped the +engine. Then he turned toward her. + +"I have something to say to you," he said. "I have brought you here that +I may say it in my own way and in my own atmosphere." + +She responded instantly to his mood, although she did not yet grasp the +full significance of the situation. She leaned forward in the car, and +her eyes were lighted with interest. Into their faces a slight, +drizzling rain was carried at intervals by a gusty, north wind. The sky +was murky gray, except for one black mass of cloud that seemed bending +almost over their heads. + +Down at their feet--they had made a circuit and were facing London +again--began the long lines of feeble lights which lit the great avenues +stretching onward to the city, the lights of suburban thoroughfares, of +local railways, and here and there a more brilliant illumination of some +picture palace or place of amusement. Farther away still, the vast glow +from the heart of the city was beginning to flare against the murky +sky--here red and threatening, as if from some great conflagration; in +other places yellow, with a sicklier light of fog-strangled brilliance. + +"This is like you!" Louise murmured. "You had to bring me out to a +hilltop, on the dreariest hour of a wet March afternoon, to tell +me--what?" + +"First of all," John began, "I will answer a question which you have +asked me three times since we started out this afternoon. You wanted to +know how I found out that you were not going to tea with the prince. +Well, here is the truth. I asked the prince to change the day of your +visit to him." + +Her fine, silky eyebrows came a little closer together. + +"You asked him that?" she repeated. + +John nodded. + +"And he consented?" + +"I will explain," John continued. "It was a most unfortunate +circumstance, but in the club, after lunch, the subject of spending the +afternoon came up. The prince spoke of an engagement. He was tied at +home, he said, from four to six. Some of the men began to chaff him, and +suggested that he was entertaining some lady friend, his latest +favorite--well, I dare say you can imagine the rest," John broke off. +"The prince, thoughtlessly, I am sure, and probably to get rid of them, +pleaded guilty. Then I came down to see you, and from what you said I +discovered that it was you who were to be his visitor." + +Her fingers played nervously for a moment with the edge of the rug. She +drew it higher up. + +"Well, when I left your house the first time this afternoon, I went +straight back to the prince. I pointed out to him that after what had +been said, as it might become known that you were his guest of to-day, +it would be better for him to postpone your visit. He agreed to do so." + +"Was that all that passed between you?" + +"Not quite," John replied. "He asked me what concern it was of mine, and +I told him exactly what my concern was. I told him I hoped that some day +you would be my wife." + +She sat quite still, looking down upon the flaring lights. She was +filled with a restless desire to escape, to start the motor herself and +rush through the wet air into London and safety. And side by side with +that desire she knew that there was nothing in the world she wanted so +much as to stay just where she was, and to hear just the words she was +going to hear. + +"So much for that!" John proceeded. "And now, please listen. I have +brought you out here because under these conditions I feel more master +of myself and my thoughts, and of the things I want to say to you. +Something takes me by the throat in your little drawing-room, with its +shaded lights, its perfume of flowers, and its atmosphere of perfection. +You sit enthroned there like the queen of a world I know nothing of, and +all the time letters and flowers and flattering invitations are showered +upon you from the greatest men in London. The atmosphere there stifles +me, Louise. Out here you are a woman and I a man, and those other things +fall away. I have tried my best to come a little way into sympathy with +your life. I want you now to make up your mind to come down a little way +into mine!" + +She shook her head. + +"We are still too far apart," she murmured. "Can't you understand that +yourself?" + +"I have been a pupil for many months," he answered, turning toward her, +with one arm at the back of her cushions and the fingers of the other +hand suddenly seeking hers. "Can't you understand, if you do care a +little, if you have just a little flame of love in your heart for me, +that many of these other things which keep us apart are like the +lime-light which flashes out to give artificial light in an honest +darkness? Don't you believe, at the bottom of your heart, that you can +be happier if you will climb with me to the place where we first met, +even where the clouds lean over my own hills? You thought me very narrow +then. Perhaps I am. But I think you are beginning to understand, dear, +that that life is only a type. We can wander about where you will. My +hills are only the emblems of the things that are dear to me. There are +many countries I want to visit. I don't want to cramp your life. You +can't really be afraid of that, because it is the most widening thing in +the world that I have to give you--my love, the love of my heart and my +soul!" + +She felt the sudden snapping of every nerve in her body, the passing +away of all sense of will or resistance. She was conscious only of the +little movement toward him, the involuntary yielding of herself. She lay +back in his arms, and the kisses which closed her eyes and lips seemed +to be working some strange miracle. + +She was in some great empty space, breathing wonderful things. She was +on the hilltops, and from the heights she looked down at herself as she +had been--a poor little white-faced puppet, strutting about an +overheated stage, in a fetid atmosphere of adulation, with a brain +artificially stimulated, and a heart growing cold with selfishness. She +pitied herself as she had been. Then she opened her eyes with a start of +joy. + +"How wonderful it all is!" she murmured. "You brought me here to tell me +this?" + +"And to hear something!" he insisted. + +"I have tried not to, John," she confessed, amazed at the tremble of her +sweet, low voice. Her words seemed like the confession of a weeping +child. "I cannot help it. I do love you! I have tried not to so hard, +but now--now I shall not try any more!" + +They drove quietly down the long hill and through the dripping streets. +Not another word passed between them till they drew up outside her door. +She felt a new timidity as he handed her out, an immense gratitude for +his firm tone and intuitive tact. + +"No, I won't come in, thanks," he declared. "You have so little time to +rest and get ready for the theater." + +"You will be there to-night?" she asked. + +He laughed as if there were humor in the suggestion of his absence. + +"Of course!" + +He slipped in his clutch and drove off through the rain-gleaming streets +with the smile and air of a conqueror. Louise passed into her little +house to find a visitor waiting for her there. + + + + + XXX + + +Eugène, Prince of Seyre, had spent the early part of that afternoon in a +manner wholly strange to him. In pursuance of an order given to his +majordomo immediately on his return from the club after lunch, the great +reception rooms of Seyre House, the picture-gallery and the ballroom, +were prepared as if for a reception. Dust-sheets were swept aside, +masterpieces of painting and sculpture were uncovered, the soft +brilliance of concealed electric lights lit up many dark corners. + +When all was ready, the prince, with his hands clasped behind him, with +expressionless face and slow, thoughtful movements, passed from room to +room of the treasure-house which had come to him through a long line of +distinguished and famous men. Here and there he paused to handle with +the fingers of a connoisseur some excellent piece of bronze statuary, +some miracle of Sèvres china, some treasure of carved ivory, yellow with +age. And more than once he stood still for several minutes in rapt +contemplation of one of the great masterpieces with which the walls were +hung. + +As he passed, a solitary figure, from one to another of that long chain +of lofty, palatial rooms, his stature seemed more than ever +insignificant; yet he walked always with the dignity of the master. +Notwithstanding the slight excesses of his immaculate morning dress, his +pallid features, his insignificant build, he appeared to belong to +these things, to dominate them, to understand them. Every beautiful +object upon which he looked brought back to his memory some reminiscence +of his years of travel. He knew the history of the chinas and the +bronzes, the statuary and the lacquer-work, the friezes, and the great +pictures which adorned his house. Perhaps, he thought, as he paused to +study some Italian tapestry of his own discovery, he had spent too many +years in the contemplative life. + +There had been many careers open to him in his younger days. France was +still his own country, and he might easily have joined the long line of +soldiers whose portraits filled one side of the picture-gallery. Once he +had had ambitions, either to wield the sword or to take his place in the +world of diplomacy. It was his political inheritance which had deadened +them, the awful debt of blood that he still owed to the enemies of his +race. He had found the spirit of patriotism dead within him, and in that +day he had turned his back upon his country. Since then he had carried +his great name through the pleasure places of the world, always +upholding its dignity, perhaps, but never adding to its luster. + +He was forty-one years old that day, and the few words which John had +spoken to him barely an hour ago had made him realize that there was +only one thing in life that he desired. The sight of his treasures +merely soothed his vanity. It left empty and unsatisfied his fuller and +deeper desire of living. He told himself that his time had come. Others +of his race had paid a great price for the things they had coveted in +life. He, too, must follow their example. + +He was in Louise's drawing-room when she returned--Louise, with hair and +cheeks a little damp, but with a wonderful light in her eyes and with +footsteps that seemed to fall upon air. + +"Some tea and a bath this moment, Aline!" she called out, as she ran +lightly up the stairs. "Never mind about dinner, I am so late. I will +have some toast. Be quick!" + +"_Madame_--" Aline began. + +"Don't bother me about anything now," Louise interrupted. "I will throw +my things off while you get the bath ready." + +She stepped into her little room, throwing off her cloak as she entered. +Then she stopped short, almost upon the threshold. The prince had risen +to his feet. + +"Eugène!" + +He came toward her. Even as he stooped to kiss her fingers, his eyes +seemed to take in her disheveled condition, the little patches of color +in her cheeks, the radiant happiness which shone in her eyes. + +"I am not an unwelcome intruder, I hope," he said. "But how wet you +are!" + +The fingers which he released fell nervelessly to her side. She stood +looking at him as if confronted with a sudden nightmare. It was as if +this new-found life were being slowly drained from her veins. + +"You are overtired," he murmured, leading her with solicitude toward an +easy chair. "One would imagine, from your appearance, that I was the +bearer of some terrible tidings. Let me assure you that it is not so." + +He spoke with his usual deliberation, but she seemed powerless to +recover herself. She was still dazed and white. She sank into the chair +and looked at him. + +"Nothing, I trust," he went on, "has happened to disturb you?" + +"Nothing at all," she declared hastily. "I am tired. I ran up-stairs +perhaps a little too quickly. Aline had not told me that there was any +one here." + +"I had a fancy to see you this afternoon," the prince explained, "and, +finding you out, I took the liberty of waiting. If you would rather I +went away and came for you later, please do not hesitate to say so." + +"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I do not know why I should have been so +silly. Aline, take my coat and veil," she directed, turning to the maid, +who was lingering at the other end of the room. "I am not wet. Serve +some tea in here. I will have my bath later, when I change to go to the +theater." + +She spoke bravely, but fear was in her heart. She tried to tell herself +that this visit was a coincidence, that it meant nothing, but all the +time she knew otherwise. + +The door closed behind Aline, and they were alone. The prince, as if +anxious to give her time to recover herself, walked to the window and +stood for some moments looking out. When he turned around, Louise had at +least nerved herself to meet what she felt was imminent. + +The prince approached her deliberately. She knew what he was going to +say. + +"Louise," he began, drawing a chair to her side, "I have found myself +thinking a great deal about you during the last few weeks." + +She did not interrupt him. She simply waited and watched. + +"I have come to a certain determination," he proceeded; "one which, if +you will grace it with your approval, will give me great happiness. I +ask you to forget certain things which have passed between us. I have +come to you to-day to beg you to do me the honor of becoming my wife." + +She turned her head very slowly until she was looking him full in the +face. Her lips were a little parted, her eyes a little strained. The +prince was leaning toward her in a conventional attitude; his words had +been spoken simply and in his usual conversational manner. There was +something about him, however, profoundly convincing. + +"Your wife!" Louise repeated. + +"If you will do me that great honor." + +It seemed at first as if her nerves were strained to the breaking-point. +The situation was one with which her brain seemed unable to grapple. She +set her teeth tightly. Then she had a sudden interlude of wonderful +clear-sightedness. She was almost cool. + +"You must forgive my surprise, Eugène," she begged. "We have known each +other now for some twelve years, have we not?--and I believe that this +is the first time you have ever hinted at anything of the sort!" + +"One gathers wisdom, perhaps, with the years," he replied. "I am +forty-one years old to-day. I have spent the early hours of this +afternoon in reflection, and behold the result!" + +"You have spoken to me before," she said slowly, "of different things. +You have offered me a great deal in life, but never your name. I do not +understand this sudden change!" + +"Louise," he declared, "if I do not tell you the truth now, you will +probably guess it. Besides, this is the one time in their lives when a +man and a woman should speak nothing but the truth. It is for fear of +losing you--that is why." + +Her self-control suddenly gave way. She threw herself back in her chair. +She began to laugh and stopped abruptly, the tears streaming from her +eyes. The prince leaned forward. He took her hands in his, but she drew +them away. + +"You are too late, Eugène!" she said. "I almost loved you. I was almost +yours to do whatever you liked with. But somehow, somewhere, +notwithstanding all your worldly knowledge and mine, we missed it. We do +not know the truth about life, you and I--at least you do not, and I did +not." + +He rose very slowly to his feet. There was no visible change in his face +save a slight whitening of the cheeks. + +"And the sequel to this?" he asked. + +"I have promised to marry John Strangewey," she told him. + +"That," he replied, "is impossible! I have a prior claim." + +The light of battle flamed suddenly in her eyes. Her nervousness had +gone. She was a strong woman, face to face with him now, taller than he, +seeming, indeed, to tower over him in the splendor of her anger. She was +like a lioness threatened with the loss of the one dear thing. + +"Assert it, then!" she cried defiantly. "Do what you will. Go to him +this minute, if you have courage enough, if it seems to you well. Claim, +indeed! Right! I have the one right every woman in the world +possesses--to give herself, body and soul, to the man she loves! That is +the only claim and the only right I recognize, and I am giving myself to +him, when he wants me, forever!" + +She stopped suddenly. Neither of them had heard a discreet knock at the +door. Aline had entered with the tea. There was a moment of silence. + +"Put it down here by my side, Aline," her mistress ordered, "and show +the Prince of Seyre out." + +Aline held the door open. For a single moment the prince hesitated. Then +he picked up his hat and bowed. + +"Perhaps," he said, "this may not be the last word!" + + + + + XXXI + + +Jennings stood with a decanter in his hand, looking resentfully at his +master's untasted wine. He shook his head ponderously. Not only was the +wine untouched, but the _Cumberland Times_ lay unopened upon the table. +Grim and severe in his high-backed chair, Stephen Strangewey sat with +his eyes fixed upon the curtained window. + +"There's nothing wrong with the wine, I hope, sir?" the man asked. "It's +not corked or anything, sir?" + +"Nothing is the matter with it," Stephen answered. "Bring me my pipe." + +Jennings shook his head firmly. + +"There's no call for you, sir," he declared, "to drop out of your old +habits. You shall have your pipe when you've drunk that glass of port, +and not before. Bless me! There's the paper by your side, all unread, +and full of news, for I've glanced it through myself. Corn was higher +yesterday at Market Ketton, and there's talk of a bad shortage of fodder +in some parts." + +Stephen raised his glass to his lips and drained its contents. + +"Now bring me my pipe, Jennings," he ordered. + +The old man was still disposed to grumble. + +"Drinking wine like that as if it were some public-house stuff!" he +muttered, as he crossed the room, toward the sideboard. "It's more a +night, this, to my way of thinking, for drinking a second glass of wine +than for shilly-shallying with the first. There's the wind coming across +Townley Moor and down the Fells strong enough to blow the rocks out of +the ground. It 'minds me of the time Mr. John was out with the +Territorials, and they tried the moor for their big guns." + +The rain lashed the window-panes, and the wind whistled past the front +of the house. Stephen sat quite still, as if listening--it may have been +to the storm. + +"Well, here's your pipe, sir," Jennings continued, laying it by his +master's side, "and your tobacco and the matches. If you'd smoke less +and drink a glass or two more of the right stuff, it would be more to my +liking." + +Stephen filled his pipe with firm fingers. Then he laid it down, unlit, +by his side. + +"Bring me back the port, Jennings," he ordered, "and a glass for +yourself." + +Jennings obeyed promptly. Stephen filled both glasses, and the two men +looked at each other as they held them out. + +"Here's confusion to all women!" Stephen said, as he raised his to his +lips. + +"Amen, sir!" Jennings muttered. + +They set down the two empty glasses. Stephen lit his pipe. He sat +smoking stolidly, blowing out great clouds of smoke. Jennings retreated, +coughing resentfully. + +"Spoils the taste of good wine, that tobacco do," he snapped. "Good port +like that should be left to lie upon the palate, so to speak. Bless me, +what's that?" + +Above the roar of the wind came another and unmistakable sound. The +front door had been opened and shut. There were steps upon the stone +floor of the hall--firm, familiar steps. + +Jennings, with his mouth open, stood staring at the door. Stephen slowly +turned his head. The hand which held his pipe was as firm as a rock, but +there was a queer little gleam of expectation in his eyes. Then the door +was thrown open and John entered. The rain was dripping from his +clothes. He was breathless from his struggle with the elements. + +The two other men looked at him fixedly. They both realized the same +thing at the same moment--there was no trace of the returned prodigal in +John's countenance, or in his buoyant expression. The ten-mile ride +seemed to have brought back all his color. + +"Master John!" Jennings faltered. + +Stephen said nothing. John crossed the room and gripped his brother's +hand. + +"Wet through to the skin, and starving!" he declared. "I thought I'd +find something at Ketton, but it was all I could do to get Gibson, at +the George, to lend me a horse. Give me a glass of wine, Jennings. I'll +change my clothes--I expect you've kept them aired." + +Not a word of explanation concerning his sudden return, nor did either +of the two ask any questions. They set the bell clanging in the +stable-yard and found shelter for the borrowed horse. Presently, in dry +clothes, John sat down to a plentiful meal. His brother watched him with +a grim smile. + +"You haven't forgotten how to eat in London, John," he remarked. + +"If I had, a ten-mile ride on a night like this would help me to +remember! How's the land doing?" + +"Things are backward. The snow lay late, and we've had drying winds." + +"And the stock?" + +"Moderate. We are short of heifers. But you didn't come back from London +to ask about the farm." + +John pushed back his plate and drew his chair opposite to his brother's. + +"I did not," he assented. "I came back to tell you my news." + +"I was thinking that might be it," Stephen muttered. + +John crossed the room, found his pipe in a drawer, filled it with +tobacco, and lit it. + +"Old man," he said, as he returned to his place, "it's all very well for +you and old Jennings to put your heads together every night and drink +confusion to all women; but you know very well that if there are to be +any more Strangeweys at Peak Hall, either you or I must marry!" + +Stephen moved uneasily in his chair. + +"If you're going to marry that woman--" he began. + +"I am going to marry Louise Maurel," John interrupted firmly. "Stephen, +listen to me for a moment before you say another word, please. It is all +settled. She has promised to be my wife. I don't forget what we've been +to each other. I don't forget the old name and the old tradition; but I +have been fortunate enough to meet a woman whom I love, and I am going +to marry her. Don't speak hurriedly, Stephen! Think whatever you will, +but keep it to yourself. Some day I shall expect you to give me your +hand and tell me you are glad." + +Stephen knocked the ashes deliberately from his pipe. + +"I will tell you this much now," he said. "I had rather that we +Strangeweys died out, that the roof dropped off Peak Hall and the walls +stood naked to the sky, than that this woman should be your wife and the +mother of your children!" + +"Let it go at that, then, Stephen," John replied. "It is enough for me +to say that I will not take it ill from you, because you do not know +her." + +"But I do know her," Stephen answered. "Perhaps she didn't tell you that +I paid her a visit?" + +"You paid her a visit?" + +"Aye, that I did! She wouldn't tell you. There'll be many a thing in +life she won't tell you. I went to let her hear from my lips what I +thought of her as a wife for you. I told her what I thought of a woman +who plays the part of a wanton--" + +"Stephen!" John thundered. + +"The part of an adulterous wife upon the stage for every man and woman +who pay their silver to go and gape at! It seems I did no good--no good, +that is, if she has promised to marry you." + +John drew a breath. His task was harder, even, than he had imagined. All +the time he tried to keep one thought fixed in his mind. Stephen was his +elder brother. It was Stephen who had been his guardian and his guide +through all his youth. He thought of Stephen's fifty odd years of simple +and strenuous living, of his charity, of his strength--that very +strength which had kept him in the narrow way, which had kept him from +looking to the right or to the left in his walk through life. + +"Stephen," John said, "you are growing harder with the years. Was there +never a time, when you were younger, when you were my age, when you felt +differently toward women?" + +"Never, thank Heaven!" Stephen replied. "I was too near the sorrow that +fell upon our house when our father died with a broken heart. There were +the other two as well--one with a bullet in his brain, the other a +drunkard. Maybe, when I was your age, I felt at times what I suppose you +feel. Well, I just took it in both hands and strangled it. If you must +have a sweetheart, why don't you take the little fair-haired +girl--Sophy, you called her? She'd do you as little harm as any of +them." + +"Because it is not a sweetheart of that sort I want," John protested +vigorously. "I've had the same feelings as most men, I suppose, but I've +fought my battle out to the end, only for a different reason. I want a +wife and I want children." + +"Will she bring you children, that woman?" Stephen asked bitterly. + +"I hope so," John asserted simply. "I believe so." + +There was a moment's silence. Stephen lit his pipe and puffed steadily +at it, his eyes fixed upon the log that blazed on the hearth. + +"There is a muzzle upon my mouth," he said presently. "There are words +close to my lips which would part you and me, so I'll say no more. Go +your own way, John. I'll ask you but one more question, and you must +take that as man from man, brother from brother. How old is she?" + +"Twenty-seven." + +"And she has been an actress, playing parts like the one I saw her in, +for how long?" + +"Since she was nineteen," John replied. + +"And you believe she's a good woman?" + +John gripped at the sides of his chair. With a tremendous effort he kept +the torrent of words from his lips. + +"I know she is," he answered calmly. + +"Has she told you so?" + +"A man has no need to put such a question to the woman he cares for." + +"Then you haven't asked her?" + +John laid down his pipe and rose to his feet. He gripped his brother by +the arm. + +"Stephen," he said, "it's a hard fight for me, this, to sit face to face +with you and know what you are thinking, with the love for this woman +strong and sweet in my heart. You don't understand, Stephen; you're a +long way from understanding. But you are my brother. Don't make it too +hard! I am not a child. Believe in me. I would not take any woman to be +my wife, and the mother of my children, who was not a good woman. I am +off to-morrow morning, Stephen. I came all the way just on an impulse, +because I felt that I must tell you myself. It would be one of the best +things in the world to ride that ten miles back again to-morrow morning, +to have told you how things are, to have felt your hand in mine, and to +know that there was no shadow of misunderstanding between us!" + +Stephen, too, rose to his feet. They stood together before the fire. + +"Man to man, John," Stephen said, as he gripped his brother by the +hands, "I love you this moment as I always have done and as I always +shall do. And if this thing must be between us, I'll say but one last +word, and you'll take it from me, even though I am the only man on earth +you'd take it from. Before you marry, ask her!" + + + + + XXXII + + +John went back to town, telling himself that all had gone as well as he +had expected. He had done his duty. He had told Stephen his news, and +they had parted friends. Yet all the time he was conscious of an +undercurrent of disconcerting thoughts. + +Louise met him at the station, and he fancied that her expression, too, +although she welcomed him gaily enough, was a little anxious. + +"Well?" she asked, as she took his arm and led him to where her +motor-car was waiting. "What did that terrible brother of yours say?" + +John made a little grimace. + +"It might have been worse," he declared. "Stephen wasn't pleased, of +course. He hates women like poison, and he always will. That is because +he doesn't know very much about them, and because he will insist upon +dwelling upon certain unhappy incidents of our family history." + +"I shall never forget the morning he came to call on me," Louise sighed. +"He threatened all sorts of terrible things if I did not give you up." + +"Why didn't you tell me about it?" John asked. + +"I thought it might worry you," she replied, "and it couldn't do any +good. He believed he was doing his duty. John, you are sure about +yourself, aren't you?" + +"Come and have tea with me in my rooms, and I'll tell you," he laughed. + +"Just what I'd planned to do," she assented, with a sigh of content. +"It's too late to go home and get back to the theater comfortably." + +"The theater!" John murmured, a few minutes later, when they were seated +in his comfortable little sitting room and he had ordered tea. "Do you +know that I grudge those three or four hours of your day?" + +"I believe I do, too," she admitted; "and yet a little while ago it was +my only pleasure in life. Don't sit over there, please! You are much too +far away. Closer still! Let me feel your arms. You are strong and brave, +aren't you, John? You would not let any one take me away from you?" + +He was a little startled by the earnestness of her words. She seemed +pale and fragile, her eyes larger and deeper than usual, and her mouth +tremulous. She was like a child with the shadow of some fear hanging +over her. He laughed and held her tightly to him. + +"There is nothing that could take you away--you know that quite well! +There is nobody in the world whom you need fear for a single moment. If +you have troubles, I am here to share them. If you have enemies, you can +leave me to dispose of them." + +"I think," she murmured, "that I am in an emotional frame of mind +to-day. I am not often like this, you know. I woke this morning feeling +so happy; and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't somehow believe in +it--in myself. I felt it slip away. You won't let it slip away, John?" + +"Never a chance!" he promised confidently. "Look at me. Do I seem like a +person to be easily got rid of? What you need is a holiday, and you need +it badly. We haven't made any plans yet, have we? I wonder whether we +could break your contract at the theater!" + +"We must talk to Graillot," she said. "There is a little Frenchwoman +over here now. I once saw her act in Paris, and I am sure she could play +_Thérèse_ wonderfully. But don't let's talk seriously any longer. Just +let us sit here and talk nonsense!" + +"Have you told any of your friends yet, Louise--the prince, for +instance?" + +He had asked this question on his way across the room to ring the bell. +There was no reply, and when he turned around, a moment or two later, he +was almost frightened. Louise was sitting quite still, but the color +seemed to have been drained from her cheeks. Her eyes were filled with +some expression which he did not wholly understand. He only knew that +they were calling him to her side, and he promptly obeyed the summons. +Her head fell upon his shoulder, her arms were locked about his neck. + +"John," she sobbed, "I do not know what is the matter with me. I am +hysterical. Don't ask me any questions. Don't talk to me. Hold me like +you are doing now, and listen. I love you, John--do you understand?--I +love you!" + +Her lips sought his and clung to them. A queer little wave of passion +seemed to have seized her. Half crying, half laughing, she pressed her +face against his. "I do not want to act to-night. I do not want to play, +even to the most wonderful audience in the world. I do not want to shake +hands with many hundreds of people at that hateful reception. I think I +want nothing else in the world but you!" + +She lay, for a moment, passive in his arms. He smoothed her hair and +kissed her tenderly. Then he led her back to her place upon the couch. +Her emotional mood, while it flattered him in a sense, did nothing to +quiet the little demons of unrest that pulled, every now and then, at +his heart-strings. + +"What is this reception?" he asked. + +She made a little grimace. + +"It is a formal welcome from the English stage to the French company +that has come over to play at the new French theater," she told him. +"Sir Edward and I are to receive them. You will come, will you not?" + +"I haven't an invitation," he told her. + +"Invitation? I invite you. I am the hostess of the evening." + +"Then I am not likely to refuse, am I?" he asked, smiling. "Shall I come +to the theater?" + +"Come straight to the reception at the Whitehall Rooms," she begged. +"Sir Edward is calling for me, and Graillot will go down with us. Later, +if you care to, you can drive me home." + +"Don't you think," he suggested, "that it would be rather a good +opportunity to announce our engagement?" + +"Not to-night!" she pleaded. "You know, I cannot seem to believe it +myself except when I am with you and we are alone. It seems too +wonderful after all these years. Do you know, John, that I am nearly +thirty?" + +He laughed. + +"How pathetic! All the more reason, I should say, why we should let +people know about it as soon as possible." + +"There is no particular hurry," she said, a little nervously. "Let me +get used to it myself. I don't think you will have to wait long. +Everything I have been used to doing and thinking seems to be crumbling +up around me. Last night I even hated my work, or at least part of it." + +His eyes lit up with genuine pleasure. + +"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that," he declared. "I +don't hate your work--I've got over that. I don't think I am narrow +about it. I admire Graillot, and his play is wonderful. But I think, and +I always shall think, that the dénouement in that third act is +damnable!" + +She nodded understandingly. + +"I am beginning to realize how you must feel," she confessed. "We won't +talk about it any more now. Drive me to the theater, will you? I want to +be there early to-night, just to get everything ready for changing +afterward." + +The telephone-bell rang as they were leaving the room. John put the +receiver to his ear and a moment later held it away. + +"It is Sophy," he announced. "Shall I tell them to send her up?" + +"Sophy, indeed!" Louise exclaimed. "I thought she was in the country, on +tour, and was not expected back until to-morrow." + +"I thought she went away for a week," John said, "but there she is, +waiting down-stairs." + +Louise hesitated for a moment. Then she came over to John with a +tremulous little smile at the corners of her lips. + +"Dear," she said, "I am in a strange frame of mind to-day. I don't want +even to see Sophy. Tell them to send her up here. She can wait for you +while you take me out the other way." + +"May I tell her?" John asked, as he rang for the lift. "She has been +such a good little pal!" + +Once more Louise seemed to hesitate. A vague look of trouble clouded her +face. + +"Perhaps you had better, dear," she agreed spiritlessly. "Only tell her +not to breathe it to another soul. It is to be our secret for a little +time--not long--just a day or two longer." + +The gates of the lift swung open, and John raised her fingers to his +lips. + +"It is for you to say, dear," he promised. + +When he came back to his room, Sophy was curled up on the couch with a +cigarette between her lips. She looked at him severely. + +"I am losing faith in you," she declared. "There are signs of a hurried +departure from this room. There is a distinct perfume of roses about the +place. You have always told me that I am the only visitor of my sex you +allow here. I am fiercely jealous! Tell me what this tea-tray and the +empty cups mean?" + +"It means Louise," he answered, smiling. "She has just this moment gone +away." + +Sophy sighed with an air of mock relief. + +"Louise I suppose I must tolerate," she said. "Fancy her coming here to +tea with you, though!" + +"I have been up to Cumberland for a day," he told her, "and Louise came +to meet me at the station." + +"How is your angel brother?" she asked. "Did he ask after me?" + +"He did mention you," John confessed. "I don't remember any direct +message, though. You want a cocktail, of course, don't you?" + +"Dying for it," she admitted. "I have had such a dull week! We've been +playing in wretched little places, and last night the show went bust. +The manager presented us with our fares home this morning. We were only +down in Surrey, so here I am." + +"Well, I'm glad to see you back again," John told her, after he had +ordered the cocktails. "Louise has been quite lost without you, too." + +"I didn't want to go away," she sighed, "but I do get so tired of not +working! Although my part wasn't worth anything, I hated it being cut +out. It makes one feel so aimless. One has too much time to think." + +He laughed at her, pleasantly but derisively. + +"Time to think!" he repeated. "Why, I have never seen you serious for +five minutes in your life, except when you've been adding up Louise's +housekeeping-books!" + +She threw her cigarette into the grate, swung round toward him, and +looked steadily into his face. + +"Haven't you?" she said. "I can be. I often am. It isn't my correct +pose, though. People don't like me serious. If they take me out or +entertain me, they think they are being cheated if I am not continually +gay. You see what it is to have a reputation for being amusing! Louise +keeps me by her side to talk nonsense to her, to keep her from being +depressed. Men take me out because I am bright, because I save them the +trouble of talking, and they don't feel quite so stupid with me as with +another woman. My young man at Bath wants to marry me for the same +reason. He thinks it would be so pleasant to have me always at hand to +chatter nonsense. That is why you like me, too. You have been pitched +into a strange world. You are not really in touch with it. You like to +be with some one who will talk nonsense and take you a little way out of +it. I am just a little fool, you see, a harmless little creature in cap +and bells whom every one amuses himself with." + +John stared at her for a moment, only half understanding. + +"Why, little girl," he exclaimed, "I believe you're in earnest!" + +"I am in deadly earnest," she assured him, her voice breaking a little. +"Don't take any notice of me. I have had a wretched week, and it's a +rotten world, anyway." + +There was a knock at the door, and the waiter entered with the +cocktails. + +"Come," John said, as he took one from the tray, "I will tell you some +news that will give you something to think about. I hope that you will +be glad--I feel sure that you will. I want you to be the first to drink +our healths--Louise's and mine!" + +The glass slipped through her fingers and fell upon the carpet. She +never uttered even an exclamation. John was upon his knees, picking up +the broken glass. + +"My fault," he insisted. "I am so sorry, Sophy. I am afraid some of the +stuff has gone on your frock. Looks as if you'll have to take me out +shopping. I'll ring for another cocktail." + +He rose to his feet and stepped toward the bell. Then it suddenly +occurred to him that as yet she had not spoken. He turned quickly +around. + +"Sophy," he exclaimed, "what is the matter? Aren't you going to +congratulate me?" + +She was sitting bolt upright upon the couch, her fingers buried in the +cushions, her eyes closed. He moved quickly across toward her. + +"I say, Sophy, what's wrong?" he asked hastily. "Aren't you well?" + +She waved him away. + +"Don't touch me," she begged. "I went without my lunch--nearly missed +the train, as it was. I was feeling a little queer when I came, and +dropping that glass gave me a shock. Let me drink yours, may I?" + +He handed it to her, and she drained its contents. Then she smiled up at +him weakly. + +"What a shame!" she said. "Just as you were telling me your wonderful +news! I can scarcely believe it--you and Louise!" + +John sat down beside her. + +"Louise does not want it talked about for a day or two," he observed. +"We have not made any plans yet." + +"Is Louise going to remain upon the stage?" + +"Probably, if she wishes it," he replied; "but I want to travel first +for a year or so, before we settle definitely upon anything. I did not +think that you would be so much surprised, Sophy." + +"Perhaps I am not really," she admitted. "One thinks of a thing as being +possible, for a long time, and when it actually comes--well, it takes +you off your feet just the same. You know," she added slowly, "there are +no two people in this world so far apart in their ways as you and +Louise." + +"That is true from one point of view," he confessed. "From another, I +think that there are no two people so close together. Of course, it +seems wonderful to me, and I suppose it does to you, Sophy, that she +should care for a man of my type. She is so brilliant and so talented, +such a woman of this latter-day world, the world of which I am about as +ignorant as a man can be. Perhaps, after all, that is the real +explanation of it. Each of us represents things new to the other." + +"Did you say that no one has been told yet--no one at all?" + +"No one except Stephen," John assented. "That is why I went up to +Cumberland, to tell him." + +"You have not told the prince?" Sophy asked, dropping her voice a +little. "Louise has not told him?" + +"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?" John inquired, looking into +Sophy's face. + +"I don't know," she answered. "It just occurred to me. He and Louise +have known each other for such a long time, and I wondered what he might +have to say about it." + +John laid his hands upon the poisonous thoughts that had stolen once +more into his blood, and told himself that he had strangled them. He +swept them away and glanced at his watch. + +"Let's have some dinner before I change, down in the grill-room--in a +quarter of an hour's time, say. I don't want to be at the theater before +the second act." + +Sophy hesitated. There was a hard feeling in her throat, a burning at +the back of her eyes. She was passionately anxious to be alone, yet she +could not bring herself to refuse. She could not deny herself, or tear +herself at once away from the close companionship which seemed, somehow +or other, to have crept up between herself and John, and to have become +the one thing that counted in life. + +"I'd love to," she said, "but remember I've been traveling. Look at me! +I must either go home, or you must let me go into your room--" + +"Make yourself at home," John invited. "I have three letters to write, +and some telephone messages to answer." + +Sophy lit another cigarette and strolled jauntily through his suite of +rooms. When she was quite sure that she was alone, however, she closed +the door behind her, dropped her cigarette, and staggered to the window. +She stood there, gazing down into an alleyway six stories below, where +the people passing back and forth looked like dwarf creatures. + +One little movement forward! No one could have been meant to bear pain +like this. She set her teeth. + +"It would be so soon over!" + +Then she suddenly found that she could see nothing; the people below +were blurred images. A rush of relief had come to her. She sank into the +nearest chair and sobbed. + + + + + XXXIII + + +The reception in honor of the little company of French tragedians, at +which almost the whole of the English stage and a sprinkling of society +people were present, was a complete success. Louise made a charming +hostess, and Sir Edward more than ever justified his reputation for +saying the right thing to the right person at the right moment. The +rooms were crowded with throngs of distinguished people, who all seemed +to have plenty to say to one another. + +The only person, perhaps, who found himself curiously ill at ease was +John. He heard nothing but French on all sides of him--a language which +he read with some facility, but which he spoke like a schoolboy. He had +been wandering about for more than an hour before Louise discovered him. +She at once left her place and crossed the room to where he was standing +by the wall. + +"Cheer up!" she begged, with a delightful smile. "I am afraid that you +are being bored to death. Will you not come and be presented to our +guests?" + +"For goodness' sake, no!" John implored. "I have never seen one of them +act, and my French is appalling. I am all right, dear. It's quite enough +pleasure to see you looking so beautiful, and to think that I am going +to be allowed to drive you home afterward." + +Louise looked into a neighboring mirror, and gazed critically at her own +reflected image. The lines of her figure, fine and subtle, seemed +traced by the finger of some great sculptor underneath her faultlessly +made white-satin gown. She studied her white neck and shoulders and her +perfectly shaped head, seeking everywhere for some detail with which an +impartial critic might find fault. + +She had a curious feeling that at that precise moment she had reached +the zenith of her power and her charm. Her audience at the theater had +been wonderfully sympathetic, had responded with rare appreciation to +every turn of her voice, to every movement and gesture. The compliments, +too, which she had been receiving from the crowds who had bent over her +fingers that night had been no idle words. Many distinguished men had +looked at her with a light in their eyes which women understand so +well--a light questioning yet respectful, which provokes yet begs for +something in the way of response. + +She was conscious, acutely conscious, of the atmosphere she had created +around her. She was glorying in the subtle outward signs of it. She was +in love with herself; in love, too, with this delightful new feeling of +loving. It would have given her more joy than anything else in the +world, in that moment of her triumph, to have passed her arm through +John's, to have led him up to them all, and to have said: + +"After all, you see, I am a very simple sort of woman. I have done just +the sort of simple thing that other women do, and I am glad of it--very +glad and very happy!" + +Her lips moved to the music of her thoughts. John leaned toward her. + +"Did you say anything?" he asked. + +"You dear stupid, of course I did not! Or if I did, it was just one of +those little whispers to oneself which mean nothing, yet which count for +so much. Can I not do anything to make you enjoy yourself more? I shall +have to go back to my guests now. We are expecting a royal personage, +and those two dears who keep so close to my side do not speak a word of +English." + +"Please go back, dear," John begged promptly. "It was nice of you to +come at all. And here's Sophy at last, thank goodness! Now I am all +right." + +She laid her fingers upon his arm. + +"You must take me back to my place," she said. "Then you can go and talk +nonsense to Sophy. I won't even ask you what she said when you told her +the news. I suppose you did tell her?" + +"Of course!" + +She glanced at him swiftly. His reply had sounded a little lame; but +they were back in the crowd now, and she dismissed him with a little +nod. He made his way quickly to the spot where he had seen Sophy. To his +disappointment, she had disappeared. Graillot, however, came up and +seized him by the arm. + +"Still playing the moth, my young friend?" he exclaimed. "Aren't the +wings sufficiently burned yet?" + +"I am afraid it's become a permanent rôle," John replied, as the two men +shook hands. "Where have you been all these weeks, and why haven't you +been to see me?" + +"Paris, my dear young friend--Paris and life! Now I am back again--I am +not sure that I know why. I came over with these French people, to see +them start their theater. Forgive me, I have not paid my respects to our +hostess. We shall meet again presently." + +He strolled off, and a few minutes later John found Sophy. + +"How late you are!" he grumbled. + +"I couldn't help it," she answered. "This is the only evening dress I +possess at present, and I had to mend it before it was decent to come +out in. Why are you wandering about alone? Hasn't Louise been kind to +you?" + +"She has been charming," John declared promptly, "but she is surrounded +with all sorts of people I don't know. I can't help her. For one thing, +my French is absurd. Then they are all talking about things which I +don't understand in the least." + +Sophy remained silent for a moment. Then she took John's arm and led him +to the buffet. + +"Give me an ice and a cigarette, will you, please? You are a dear, +impractical person, but you are as much out of this world as a human +being well could be!" + +John waited upon her without any further remark. The Prince of Seyre, +passing through, bowed to them. John looked after his retreating figure. +An irresistible impulse seized him. + +"Sophy," he asked, sitting down by her side, "tell me, why have the +prince and Louise always been such great friends?" + +Sophy looked steadfastly at her ice. + +"I suppose because the prince is a very clever and cultivated person," +she said. "He has been of great assistance to Louise several times. It +was he who financed Miles Faraday when he put on this play of +Graillot's. Graillot hasn't a penny, you know, and poor Miles was almost +broke after three failures." + +"That was just an investment," John remarked irritably. "He will get his +money back again." + +"Of course," Sophy agreed. "I think the prince generally manages to get +value for what he does in life." + +"You don't think Louise ever thought of caring for him, do you?" John +persisted. + +Sophy paused until she had lit a cigarette. The expression in her face, +when she looked up at John, irritated him vaguely. It was as if she were +talking to a child. + +"I think," she said, "you had better ask Louise that question yourself, +don't you?" + + * * * * * + +He asked it an hour or so later, when at last the party of guests had +taken their leave, and, somewhat to the well-bred surprise of the one or +two friends who lingered, Louise had beckoned to John to take her out to +her car. Her hand had sought his at once, her head rested a little +wearily but very contentedly upon his shoulder. + +"Louise dear," he began, "I asked Sophy a question to-night which I +ought to have asked you. Quite properly, she told me so." + +"Nice little soul, Sophy!" Louise murmured. "What was it, John?" + +"Once or twice I have wondered," he went on, "whether you have ever +cared in any sort of way, or come near to caring, for the Prince of +Seyre?" + +For a moment she made no movement. Then she turned her head and looked +at him. The sleepy content had gone from her eyes. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Isn't it quite a natural question from a jealous man who believes that +every one who sees you must be in love with you? You have seen a great +deal of the prince, haven't you, in the last few years? He understands +your art. There are many things that you and he have in common." + +Louise was looking out of the window at the thin stream of people still +passing along Piccadilly. She seemed suddenly to have become only the +shadow of her former brilliant self. + +"I think that once--perhaps twice," she confessed, "I came very near to +caring for him." + +"And now?" + +"And now," she repeated, suddenly gripping John's hands, "I tell you +that I am very much nearer hating him. So much for the prince! In ten +minutes we shall be at home, and you are such a dear stupid about coming +in. You must try to say all the nice things in the world to me +quickly--in ten minutes!" + +"How shall I begin?" he whispered. + +She leaned once more toward him. + +"You don't need any hints," she murmured. "You're really quite good at +it!" + + + + + XXXIV + + +The ten minutes passed very much too quickly. She was gone, and John, +thrilled though he was through all his senses by the almost passionate +fervor of her leave-taking, found himself once more confronted by that +little black demon. He sat up in the car, which bore him quickly back +toward his rooms; and although the sense of her presence, the delicate +perfume, the empty place by his side, even a fallen flower from her +gown, were still there, the unrest seemed sharper. + +There was something about all of them, all these people whom he knew to +be his friends, which seemed to him to savor of a conspiracy. One by one +they flitted through his brain--Graillot's covert warning; Sophy's +plaintive, almost fearful doubts; the prince's subtle yet cynical +silence; and behind it all, Stephen's brutal and outspoken words. There +was nothing that could be put into definite shape--just the ghost of +torturing, impossible thoughts. John told himself that it must be ended. +Even though the words should blister his tongue with shame, they must be +spoken. + +A moment later he hated himself for the thought. He set his teeth, +filled his thought with the glory of her presence, and crushed those +demoniacal suggestions to the back of his brain. He was in no humor to +go home, however. Changing the order he had first given to the +chauffeur, he was driven instead to a small Bohemian club which he had +joined at Graillot's instigation. He had a vague hope that he might +find the great dramatist there. There were no signs of him, however, in +the smoking room, or any one else whom John knew. + +He threw himself into an easy chair and ordered a whisky-and-soda. Two +men close at hand were writing at desks; others were lounging about, +discussing the evening's reception. One man, sitting upon the table, a +recognized authority, was treating the company to a fluent dissertation +upon modern actresses, winding up by contrasting Louise Maurel's style +with that of her chief French rival. John found himself listening with +pleased interest. The man's opinion was certainly not unfavorable to +Louise. + +"It is only in the finer shades of emotionalism," the critic declared, +"that these French actresses get at us a little more completely even +than Louise Maurel. Do you know the reason? I'll tell you. It is because +they live the life. They have a dozen new emotions in a season. They +make a cult of feeling. They use their brains to dissect their passions. +They cut their own life into small pieces and give us the result without +concealment. That is where they score, if anywhere. This Mme. Latrobe, +who opens over here to-morrow night, is living at the present moment +with Jean Tourbet. She had an affair with that Italian poet in the +summer, so they tell me. She was certainly in Madrid in October with +Bretoldi, the sculptor. These men are all great artists. Think what she +must have learned from associating with them! Now Louise Maurel, so far +as we know, has never had but one lover, the Prince of Seyre, and has +been faithful to him all the time." + +It was out at last! John had heard it spoken in plain words. The black +demon upon which his hand had lain so heavily, was alive now, without a +doubt, jeering at him, mocking at him--alive and self-assertive in the +sober words of the elderly, well-bred man who lounged upon the table. + +For a moment or two John was stunned. A wild impulse assailed him to +leap up and confront them all, to choke the lie back down the throat of +the man who had uttered it. Every nerve in his body was tingling with +the desire for action. The stupor of his senses alone kept him +motionless, and a strange, incomprehensible clarity of thought. He +realized exactly how things were. This man had not spoken idly, or as a +scandalmonger. He had spoken what he had accepted as a fact, what other +people believed. + +John rose to his feet and made his way toward the door. His face showed +little sign of disturbance. He even nodded to some men whom he knew +slightly. As he passed down the stairs, he met Graillot. Then once more +the self-control became in danger. He seized the Frenchman savagely by +the arm. + +"Come this way," he said, leading him toward the card-room. "Come in +here! I want to speak to you." + +He locked the door--a most unheard-of and irregular proceeding. Graillot +felt the coming of the storm. + +"Well!" he exclaimed grimly. "Trouble already, eh? I see it in your +face, young man. Out with it!" + +John--who had won a hard match at rackets a few days before against a +more experienced opponent simply because of his perfect condition--was +breathing hard. There was a dull patch of color in his cheek, drops of +sweat stood upon his forehead. He controlled his voice with difficulty. +Its tone was sharp and unfamiliar. + +"I was sitting in the smoking room there, a few moments ago," he began, +jerking his head toward the door. "There were some men talking--decent +fellows, not dirty scandalmongers. They spoke of Louise Maurel." + +Graillot nodded gravely. He knew very well what was coming. + +"Well?" + +"They spoke, also, of the Prince of Seyre." + +"Well?" + +John felt his throat suddenly dry. The words he would have spoken choked +him. He banged his fist upon the table by the side of which they were +standing. + +"Look here, Graillot," he cried, almost piteously, "you know it is not +true, not likely to be true! Can't you say so?" + +"Stop, my young friend!" the Frenchman interrupted. "I know nothing. It +is a habit of mine to know nothing when people make suggestions of that +sort. I make no inquiries. I accept life and people as I find them." + +"But you don't believe that such a thing could be possible?" + +"Why not?" Graillot asked steadily. + +John could do no more than mumble a repetition of his words. The world +was falling away from him. He was dimly conscious that one of the +engravings upon the wall opposite was badly hung. For the rest, +Graillot's face, stern, yet pitying, seemed to loom like the features of +a giant, eclipsing everything else. + +"I will not discuss this matter with you, my friend. I will only ask you +to remember the views of the world in which we live. Louise Maurel is an +artist, a great artist. If there has been such an affair as you suggest, +between her and any man, if it were something which appealed to her +affections, it is my opinion that she would not hesitate. You seem to +think it an outrageous thing that the prince should have been her lover. +To be perfectly frank, I do not. I should be very much more surprised at +her marriage." + +John made his escape somehow. He remembered opening the door, but he had +no recollection of reaching the street. A few minutes later, however, he +found himself striding down Piccadilly toward Hyde Park Corner. + +The night was warm, and there were still plenty of people about. A woman +touched his arm; her hackneyed greeting filled him with inexpressible +horror. He stared at her, barely conscious of what he was doing, filled +with an indescribable sickness of heart. + +"You look about done up," she said in friendly fashion. "Come round to +my flat and have a drink. You needn't stay if you don't want to." + +He muttered something and passed on. A moment or two later, however, he +retraced his steps. Out of the horror of his thought had come an +irresistible impulse. He slipped some gold into her hand. + +"Please take this and go home," he enjoined. "Go home at once! Get out +of the streets and hide yourself." + +She stared at him and at the money. + +"Why, I've only just come out," she protested. "All the same, I'm dead +tired. I'll go. Walk with me, won't you? You look as if you wanted +looking after." + +"I'm all right," he answered. "You go home." + +She slipped the money carefully into her purse, and hailed a taxi. + +"You shall have your own way," she declared. "Can't I drop you +anywhere?" + +He raised his hat, and, once more swinging around, passed on his way. +Presently he found himself in the street where Louise lived. He looked +at his watch--it was twenty minutes to three o'clock. + +The house was in solemn darkness. He stood and looked up at it. There +was no sign of a light, not even from the top windows. Its silence +seemed to him more than the silence of sleep. He found himself wondering +whether it was really inhabited, whether there were really human souls +in this quiet corner, waiting peacefully for the dawn, heedless of the +torment which was tearing his soul to pieces. Perhaps, behind that drawn +blind, Louise herself was awake. Perhaps she was thinking, looking back +into the past, wondering about the future. He took a step toward the +gate. + +"Are you going in there, sir?" + +He turned quickly around. A policeman had flashed a lantern upon him. +John suddenly became intensely matter-of-fact. + +"No," he replied. "It is too late, I am afraid. I see that they have all +gone to bed. Any chance of a taxi about here?" + +"Most likely you'll find one at the corner," the policeman pointed out. +"There's a rank there, and one or two of them generally stay late. Very +much obliged, sir." + +John had slipped a coin into the man's hand. Then he walked deliberately +away. He found a taxicab and was driven toward the Milan. He let down +both the windows and leaned out. He was conscious of a wild desire to +keep away from his rooms--to spend the night anywhere, anyhow, sooner +than go back to the little apartment where Louise had sat with him only +a few hours ago, and had given herself into his arms. Every pulse in +his body was tingling. He was fiercely awake, eager for motion, action, +excitement of any sort. + +Suddenly he remembered the night-club to which he had been introduced by +Sophy on the first night of his arrival in London. The address, too, was +there quite clearly in his disordered brain. He leaned out of the cab +and repeated it to the driver. + + + + + XXXV + + +The little place was unexpectedly crowded when John entered, after +having handed his hat and coat to a _vestiaire_. A large supper-party +was going on at the further end, and the dancing space was smaller than +usual. The _maître d'hôtel_ was escorting John to a small table in a +distant corner, which had just been vacated, when the latter heard his +name suddenly called by a familiar voice. Sophy, who had been dancing, +abandoned her partner precipitately and came hurrying up to John with +outstretched hands. + +"John!" she exclaimed. "You, of all people in the world! What do you +mean by coming here alone at this time of night? Fancy not telling me! +Is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing," he replied. "I really don't exactly know why I am here. I +simply didn't want to go to bed." + +She looked at him closely. It was clear that she was a little puzzled at +his appearance. + +"If it were not you, John," she declared, "I should say that you had +been having more to drink than was good for you!" + +"Then you would be very wrong," John assured her, "because I haven't had +anything at all. I have come here to get something. Can't you come and +sit with me?" + +"Of course!" she assented eagerly. "The prince is giving a supper-party +at the other end of the room there. We all came on together from the +reception. Let us get away to your corner quickly, or they will see you +and make you go and join them. I would much rather have you to myself. +The people here seem so stupid to-night!" + +John stood still, and made no movement toward the table which the +_maître d'hôtel_ was smilingly preparing for them. + +"Where is the prince?" he asked. + +Sophy, struck by something in his voice, swung around and looked at him. +Then she thrust both her arms through his, clasped her two hands +together, and led him firmly away. A glimmering of the truth was +beginning to dawn upon her. + +"Tell me where you have been since you left the reception," she +insisted, when at last they were seated together. + +"Wait till I have ordered some wine," he said. + +A waiter served them with champagne. When John's glass was filled, he +drained its contents. Sophy watched him with surprise. She came a little +closer to him. + +"John," she whispered, "you must tell me--do you hear? You must tell me +everything! Did you take Louise home?" + +"Yes." + +"What happened, then? You didn't quarrel with her?" + +"Nothing at all happened," he assured her. "We parted the best of +friends. It wasn't that." + +"Then what? Remember that I am your friend, John dear. Tell me +everything." + +He poured himself more wine and drank it. + +"I will tell you," he assented. "I went to a little club I belong to on +the Adelphi Terrace. I sat down in the smoking room. There was no one +there I knew. Some men were talking. They had been to the reception +to-night. They were comparing French actresses and English. They spoke +first of the French woman, Latrobe, and her lovers; then of Louise. They +spoke quite calmly, like men discussing history. They compared the two +actresses, they compared their lives. Latrobe, they said, had lovers by +the score--Louise only one." + +Sophy's hand stole into his. She was watching the twisting of his +features. She understood so well the excitement underneath. + +"I think I can guess," she whispered. "Don't hurt yourself telling me. +Something was said about the prince!" + +His eyes blazed down upon her. + +"You, too?" he muttered. "Does the whole world know of it and speak as +if it did not matter? Sophy, is it true? Speak out! Don't be afraid of +hurting me. You call yourself my friend. I've been down, looking at the +outside of her house. I dared not go in. There's a fire burning in my +soul! Tell me if it is true!" + +"You must not ask me that question, John," she begged. "How should I +know? Besides, these things are so different in our world, the world you +haven't found out much about yet. Supposing it were true, John," she +went on, "remember that it was before you knew her. Supposing it should +be true, remember this--your idea of life is too absurd. Is one creed +made to fit human beings who may differ in a million different ways? A +woman may be as good as any ever born into the world, and yet take just +a little love into her life, if she be true and faithful in doing it. I +don't believe there is a dearer or sweeter woman breathing than Louise, +but one must have love. Don't I know it? A man may be strong enough to +live without it, but a woman--never!" + +The skirts of the women brushed their table as they danced, the rhythm +of the music rose and fell above the murmur of laughter and +conversation. John looked around the room, and a sort of despair crept +in upon him. It was no good! He had come to London to understand; he +understood nothing. He was made of the wrong fiber. If only he could +change himself! If it were not too late! If he could make himself like +other men! + +He turned and glanced at his companion. Sophy was looking very sweet and +very wistful. The warm touch of her fingers was grateful. Her sympathy +was like some welcome flower in a wilderness. His heart ached with a new +desire. If only he could make himself different! If only he could +stretch out his hand for the flowers which made the lives of other men +so sweet! + +"I must not ask you any more questions, Sophy," he said. "You are her +friend, and you have spoken very sweetly. To-morrow I will go and see +her." + +"And to-night, forget it all," she pleaded. "Wipe it out of your memory. +Louise and your future belong to to-morrow. To-night she is not here, +and I am. Even if you are furiously in love with her, there isn't any +harm in your being just a little nice to me. Give me some champagne; and +I want some caviar sandwiches!" + +"I wonder why you are so good to me, Sophy!" he exclaimed, as he gave +the order to a waiter. "You ought either to marry your young man down at +Bath, or to have a sweetheart of your own, a companion, some one quite +different." + +"How different?" + +"Some one who cared for you as you deserve to be cared for, and whom you +cared for, too." + +"I cannot take these things as lightly as I used to," she answered a +little sadly. "Something has come over me lately--I don't know what it +is--but I seem to have lost my taste for flirtations. John, don't look +up, don't turn round! I have been afraid of the prince all the evening. +When you came in, I fancied that you had been drinking. When the prince +asked me something about you, an hour or so ago, I knew that he had. I +saw him like it once before, about a year ago. Don't take any notice of +him! Don't talk to him, if you can help it!" + +John was scarcely conscious of her words. A new glow of excitement +seemed to be taking entire possession of him, to be thrilling his blood, +to be shining out of his eyes. He rose slowly to his feet. It was as if +he were being drawn forward out of himself to meet some coming +challenge. + +Toward their table the prince was slowly making his way, skilfully +avoiding the dancers, yet looking neither to the right nor to the left. +His eyes were fastened upon John. If he had been drinking, as Sophy +suggested, there were few signs of it. His walk was steady; his bearing, +as usual, deliberate and distinguished. + +He came to a standstill beside them. Sophy's fingers clutched at the +tablecloth. The prince looked from one to the other. + +"You have robbed me of a guest, Mr. Strangewey," he remarked; "but I +bear you no ill-will. It is very seldom that one sees you in these +haunts of dissipation." + +"It is a gala night with me," John replied, his tone raised no more than +usual, but shaking with some new quality. "Drink a glass of wine with +me, prince," he invited, taking the bottle from the ice-pail and filling +a tumbler upon the table. "Wish me luck, won't you? I am engaged to be +married!" + +"I wish you happiness with all my heart," the prince answered, holding +his glass up. "May I not know the name of the lady?" + +"No doubt you are prepared for the news," John told him. "Miss Maurel +has promised to become my wife." + +The prince's hand was as steady as a rock. He raised his glass to his +lips. + +"I drink to you both with the greatest pleasure," he said, looking John +full in the face. "It is a most remarkable coincidence. To-night is the +anniversary of the night when Louise Maurel pledged herself to me in +somewhat different fashion!" + +John's frame seemed for a moment to dilate, and fire flashed from his +eyes. + +"Will you be good enough to explain those words?" he demanded. + +The prince bowed. He glanced toward Sophy. + +"Since you insist," he replied. "To-night, then, let me tell you, is the +anniversary of the night when Louise Maurel consented to become my +mistress!" + +What followed came like a thunder-clap. The prince reeled back, his hand +to his mouth, blood dropping upon the tablecloth from his lips, where +John had struck him. He made a sudden spring at his assailant. Sophy, +shrieking, leaped to her feet. Every one else in the place seemed +paralyzed with wonder. + +John seized the prince by the throat, and held him for a moment at +arm's length. Then he lifted him off his feet as one might lift a child +from the floor. Holding his helpless victim in a merciless grip, he +carried him across the room and deliberately flung him over the table +toward his empty chair. + +There was a crash of glass and crockery which rang through the +momentarily hushed room. The dancers had stopped in their places, the +bow of the violinist lay idle upon the strings of his instrument. The +waiters were all standing about like graven images. Then, as the prince +fell, there was a shout, and all was pandemonium. They rushed to where +he was lying motionless, a ghastly sight, across the wreck of his +flower-strewn supper-table. + +Sophy held John by the arm, clutching it hysterically, striving to drag +him away. But to John the room was empty. He stood there, a giant, +motionless figure, his muscles still taut, his face tense, his eyes +aflame, glaring down at the prostrate figure of the man on whom he had +wreaked the accumulated fury of those last days and weeks of madness. + + + + + XXXVI + + +Toward nine o'clock on the following morning John rose from a fitful +sleep and looked around him. Even before he could recall the events of +the preceding night he felt that there was a weight pressing upon his +brain, a miserable sense of emptiness in life, a dull feeling of +bewilderment. Although he had no clear recollection of getting there, he +realized that he was in his own sitting room, and that he had been +asleep upon the couch. He saw, too, that it was morning, for a ray of +sunlight lay across the carpet. + +As he struggled to his feet, he saw with a little shock that he was not +alone. Sophy Gerard was curled up in his easy chair, still in evening +clothes, her cloak drawn closely around her, as if she were cold. Her +head had fallen back. She, too, was asleep. At the sound of his +movement, however, she opened her eyes and looked at him for a moment +with a puzzled stare. Then she jumped to her feet. + +"Why, we have both been asleep!" she murmured, a little weakly. + +At the sound of her voice it all came back to him, a tangled, hideous +nightmare. He sat down again upon the couch and held his head between +his hands. + +"How did I come here?" he asked. "I can't remember!" + +She hesitated. He answered the unspoken question in her eyes. + +"I remember everything that happened at the club," he went on slowly. +"Is the prince dead?" + +She shook her head. + +"Of course not! He was hurt, though, and there was a terrible scene of +confusion in the room. The people crowded around him, and I managed, +somehow, to drag you away. The manager helped us. To tell the truth, he +was only too anxious for you to get away before the police arrived. He +was so afraid of anything getting into the papers. I drove you back +here, and, as you still seemed stunned, I brought you up-stairs. I +didn't mean to stay, but I couldn't get you to say a single coherent +word. I was afraid to leave you alone!" + +"I suppose I was drunk," he said, in a dull tone. "I remember filling my +glass over and over again. There is one thing, though," he added, his +voice gaining a sudden strength; "I was not drunk when I struck the +prince! I remember those few seconds very distinctly. I saw everything, +knew everything, felt everything. If no one had interfered, I think I +should have killed him!" + +"You were not drunk at all," she declared, with a little shiver, "but +you were in a state of terrible excitement. It was a long time before I +could get you to lie down, and then you wouldn't close your eyes until I +came and sat by your side. I watched you go to sleep. I hope you are not +angry with me! I didn't like to go and leave you." + +"How could I be angry?" he protested. "You are far kinder to me than I +deserve. I expect I should have been in a police cell but for you!" + +"And now," she begged, coming over to him and speaking in a more +matter-of-fact tone, "do let us be practical. I must run away, and you +must go and have a bath and change your clothes. Don't be afraid of +your reputation. I can get out by the other entrance." + +He made no movement. She laid her hand on his arm. In the sunlight, with +a little patch of rouge still left on her cheek, with her disordered +hair and tired eyes, she looked almost ghastly. + +"Remember," she whispered, "you have to go to see Louise!" + +He covered his face with his hands. + +"What's the use of it?" he groaned. "It's only another turn of the +screw!" + +"Don't be foolish, John," she admonished briskly. "You don't actually +know anything yet--nothing at all; at least, you are not sure of +anything. And besides, you strange, impossible person," she went on, +patting his hand, "don't you see that you must judge her, not by the +standards of your world, in which she has never lived, but by the +standards of her world, in which she was born and bred? That is only +fair, isn't it?" + +He made no answer. She watched him anxiously, but there was no sign in +his face. + +"Pull yourself together, John," she continued. "Ring for some tea, get +your bath, and then have it out with Louise. Remember, life is a very +big thing. You are dealing this morning with all it may mean to you." + +He rose listlessly to his feet. There was a strange, dull look in his +face. + +"You are a dear girl, Sophy!" he said. "Don't go just yet. I have never +felt like it before in my life, but just now I don't want to be left +alone. Send a boy for some clothes, and I will order some tea." + +She hesitated. + +"My own reputation," she murmured, "is absolutely of no consequence, but +remember that you live here, and--" + +"Don't be silly!" he interrupted. "What does that matter? And besides, +according to you and all the rest of you here, these things don't affect +a man's reputation--they are expected of him. See, I have rung the bell +for breakfast. Now I am going to telephone down for a messenger-boy to +go for your clothes." + +They breakfasted together, a little later, and she made him smoke. He +stood before the window, looking down upon the river, with his pipe in +his mouth and an unfamiliar look upon his face. + +"Do you suppose that Louise knows anything?" he asked at length. + +"I should think not," she replied. "It is for you to tell her. I rang up +the prince's house while you were in your bathroom. They say that he has +a broken rib and some bad cuts, sustained in a motor accident last +night, but that he is in no danger. There was nothing about the affair +in the newspapers, and the prince's servants have evidently been +instructed to give this account to inquirers." + +A gleam of interest shone in John's face. + +"By the bye," he remarked, "the prince is a Frenchman. He will very +likely expect me to fight with him." + +"No hope of that, my belligerent friend," Sophy declared, with an +attempt at a smile. "The prince knows that he is in England. He would +not be guilty of such an anachronism. Besides, he is a person of +wonderfully well-balanced mind. When he is himself again, he will +realize that what happened to him is exactly what he asked for." + +John took up his hat and gloves. He glanced at the clock--it was a +little past eleven. + +"I am ready," he announced. "Let me drive you home first." + +His motor was waiting at the door, and he left Sophy at her rooms. +Before she got out, she held his arm for a moment. + +"John," she said, "remember that Louise is very high-strung and very +sensitive. Be careful!" + +"There is only one thing to do or to say," he answered. "There is only +one way in which I can do it." + +He drove the car down Piccadilly like a man in a dream, steering as +carefully as usual through the traffic, and glancing every now and then +with unseeing eyes at the streams of people upon the pavements. Finally +he came to a standstill before Louise's house and stopped the engine +with deliberate care. Then he rang the bell, and was shown into her +little drawing-room, which seemed to have become a perfect bower of pink +and white lilac. + +He sat waiting as if in a dream, unable to decide upon his words, unable +even to sift his thoughts. The one purpose with which he had come, the +one question he designed to ask, was burning in his brain. The minutes +of her absence seemed tragically long. He walked up and down, oppressed +by the perfume of the flowers. The room seemed too small for him. He +longed to throw open all the windows, to escape from the atmosphere, in +which for the first time he seemed to find some faint, enervating +poison. + +Then at last the door opened and Louise entered. She came toward him +with a little welcoming smile upon her lips. Her manner was gay, almost +affectionate. + +"Have you come to take me for a ride before lunch?" she asked. "Do you +know, I think that I should really like it! We might lunch at Ranelagh +on our way home." + +The words stuck in his throat. From where she was, she saw now the +writing on his face. She stopped short. + +"What is it?" she exclaimed. + +"Ever since I knew you," he said slowly, "there have been odd moments +when I have lived in torture. During the last fortnight, those moments +have become hours. Last night the end came." + +"Are you mad, John?" she demanded. + +"Perhaps," he replied. "Listen. When I left you last night, I went to +the club in Adelphi Terrace. There was a well-known critic there, +comparing you and Latrobe. On the whole he favored you, but he gave +Latrobe the first place in certain parts. Latrobe, he said, had had more +experience of life. She had had a dozen lovers--you, only one!" + +She winced. The glad freshness seemed suddenly to fade from her face. +Her eyes became strained. + +"Well?" + +"I found Graillot. I cornered him. I asked him for the truth about you. +He put me off with an evasion. I came down here and looked at your +window. It was three o'clock in the morning. I dared not come in. A very +demon of unrest was in my blood. I stopped at a night-club on my way +back. Sophy was there. I asked her plainly to put me out of my agony. +She was like Graillot. She fenced with me. And then--the prince came!" + +"The prince was there?" she faltered. + +"He came up to the table where Sophy and I were sitting. I think I was +half mad. I poured him a glass of wine and asked him to drink with me. I +told him that you had promised to become my wife. He raised his glass--I +can see him now. He told me, with a smile, that it was the anniversary +of the day on which you had promised to become his mistress!" + +Louise shrank back. + +"He told you that?" + +John was on his feet. The fever was blazing once more. + +"He told me that, face to face--told me that it was the anniversary of +the day on which you had consented to become his mistress!" + +"And you?" + +"If we had been alone," John answered simply, "I should have killed him. +I drove the words down his throat. I threw him back to the place he had +left, and hurt him rather badly, I'm afraid. Sophy took me home somehow, +and now I am here." + +She leaned a little forward on the couch. She looked into his face +searchingly, anxiously, as if seeking for something she could not find. +His lips were set in hard, cold lines. The likeness to Stephen had never +been more apparent. + +"Listen!" she said. "You are a Puritan. While I admire the splendid +self-restraint evolved from your creed, it is partly temperamental, +isn't it? I was brought up to see things differently, and I do see them +differently. Tell me, do you love me?" + +The veins swelled for a moment upon his forehead, stood out like +whip-cord along the back of his hands, but of softening there was no +sign in his face. + +"Love you?" he repeated. "You know it! Could I suffer the tortures of +the damned if I didn't? Could I come to you with a man's blood upon my +hands if I didn't? If the prince lives, it is simply the accident of +fate. I tell you that if we had been alone I should have driven the +breath out of his body. Love you!" + +She rose slowly to her feet. She leaned with her elbow upon the +mantelpiece, and her face was hidden for a moment. + +"Let me think!" she said. "I don't know what to say to you. I don't know +you, John. There isn't anything left of the John I loved. Let me look +again!" + +She swung around. + +"You speak of love," she went on suddenly. "Do you know what it is? Do +you know that loves reaches to the heavens, and can also touch the +nethermost depths of hell? If I throw myself on my knees before you now, +if I link my fingers around your neck, if I whisper to you that in the +days that were past before you came I had done things I would fain +forget, if I told you that from henceforth every second of my life was +yours, that my heart beat with yours by day and by night, that I had no +other thought, no other dream, than to stay by your side, to see you +happy, to give all there was of myself into your keeping, to keep it +holy and sacred for you--John, what then?" + +Never a line in his face softened. He looked at her a moment as he had +looked at the woman in Piccadilly, into whose hand he had dropped gold. + +"Are you going to tell me that it is the truth?" he asked hoarsely. + +She stood quite still, her bosom rising and falling. Even then she made +one last effort. She held out her hands with a little trembling gesture, +her eyes filled with tears. + +"Think for a single moment of that feeling which you call love, John!" +she pleaded. "Listen! I love you. It has come to me at last, after all +these years. It lives in my heart, a greater thing than my ambition, a +greater thing than my success, a greater thing than life itself. I love +you, John. Can't you feel, don't you know, that nothing else in life can +matter?" + +Not a line in his face softened. His teeth had come together. He was +like a man upon the rack. + +"It is true? It is true, then?" he demanded. + +She looked at him without any reply. The seconds seemed drawn out to an +interminable period. He heard the rolling of the motor-buses in the +street. Once more the perfume of the lilacs seemed to choke him. Then +she leaned back and touched the bell. + +"The prince spoke the truth," she said. "I think you had better go!" + + + + + XXXVII + + +Before the wide-flung window of her attic bedchamber, Sophy Gerard was +crouching with her face turned westward. She had abandoned all effort to +sleep. The one thought that was beating in her brain was too insistent, +too clamorous. Somewhere beyond that tangled mass of chimneys and +telegraph-poles, somewhere on the other side of the gray haze which hung +about the myriad roofs, John and Louise were working out their destiny, +speaking at last the naked truth to each other. + +Somehow or other, during those few minutes every thought of herself and +her own life seemed to have passed away. John's face seemed always +before her--the sudden, hard lines about his mouth; the dull, smoldering +pain in his eyes. How would he return? Louise had guarded the secret of +her life so well. Would he wrest it from her, or-- + +She started suddenly back into the room. There was a knocking at the +door, something quite different from her landlady's summons. She wrapped +her dressing-gown around her, pulled the curtains around the little bed +on which she had striven to rest, and moved toward the door. She turned +the handle softly. + +"Who is that?" she asked. + +John almost pushed his way past her. She closed the door with nerveless +fingers. Her eyes sought his face, her lips were parted. She clung to +the back of the chair. + +"You have seen Louise?" she exclaimed breathlessly. + +"I have seen Louise," he answered. "It is all over!" + +She looked a little helplessly around her. Then she selected the one +chair in the tiny apartment that was likely to hold him, and led him to +it. + +"Please sit down," she begged, "and tell me about it. You mustn't +despair like this all at once. I wonder if I could help!" + +"No one can help," he told her grimly. "It is all finished and done +with. I would rather not talk any more about it. I didn't come here to +talk about it. I came to see you. So this is where you live!" + +He looked around him, and for a moment he almost forgot the pain which +was gnawing at his heart. It was such a simple, plainly furnished little +room, so clean, so neat, so pathetically eloquent of poverty. She drew +closer together the curtains which concealed her little chintz-covered +bed, and came and sat down by his side. + +"You know, you are rather a silly person," she whispered soothingly. +"Wait for a time and perhaps things will look different. I know that +Louise cares. Isn't that the great thing, after all?" + +"I would like not to talk about it any more," said John. "Just now I +cannot put what I feel into words. What remains is just this: I have +been a fool, a sort of _Don Quixote_, building castles in Spain and +believing that real men and women could live in them. I have expected +the impossible in life. It is perhaps a good thing that I can see the +truth now. I am going to climb down!" + +She clasped her hands tighter around his arm. Her eyes sought his +anxiously. + +"But you mustn't climb down, John," she insisted. "You are so much nicer +where you are, so much too good for the silly, ugly things. You must +fight this in your own way, fight it according to your own standards. +You are too good to come down--" + +"Am I too good for you, Sophy?" + +She looked at him, and her whole face seemed to soften. The light in her +blue eyes was sweet and wistful. A bewildering little smile curled her +lips. + +"Don't be stupid!" she begged. "A few minutes ago I was looking out of +my window and thinking what a poor little morsel of humanity I am, and +what a useless, drifting life I have led. But that's foolish. Come now! +What I want to persuade you to do is to go back to Cumberland for a +time, and try hard--very hard indeed--to realize what it means to be a +woman like Louise, with her temperament, her intense intellectual +curiosity, her charm. Nothing could make Louise different from what she +is--a dear, sweet woman and a great artist. And, John, I believe she +loves you!" + +His face remained undisturbed even by the flicker of an eyelid. + +"Sophy," he said, "I have decided to go abroad. Will you come with me?" + +She sat quite still. Again her face was momentarily transformed. All its +pallor and fatigue seemed to have vanished. Her head had fallen a little +back. She was looking through the ceiling into heaven. Then the light +died away almost as quickly as it had come. Her lips shook tremulously. + +"You know you don't mean it, John! You wouldn't take me. And if you did, +you'd hate me afterward--you'd want to send me back!" + +He suddenly drew her to him, his arm went around her waist. She had lost +all power of resistance. For the first time in his life of his own +deliberate accord, he kissed her--feverishly, almost roughly. + +"Sophy," he declared, "I have been a fool! I have come an awful cropper, +but you might help me with what's left. I am going to start afresh. I am +going to get rid of some of these ideas of mine which have brought me +nothing but misery and disappointment. I don't want to live up to them +any longer. I want to just forget them. I want to live as other men +live--just the simple, ordinary life. Come with me! I'll take you to the +places we've talked about together. I am always happy and contented with +you. Let's try it!" + +Her arms stole around his neck. + +"If only you cared, John!" she sobbed. + +"But I do," he insisted. "I love to have you with me, I love to see you +happy, I shall love to give you pretty things. I shall be proud of you, +soothed by you--and rested. What do you say, Sophy?" + +"John," she whispered, hiding her face for a moment. "What can I say? +What could any poor, weak, little creature like me say? You know I am +fond of you--I haven't had the pride, even, to conceal it!" + +He stood up, held her face for a moment between his hands, and kissed +her forehead. + +"Then that's all settled," he declared. "I am going back to my rooms +now. I want you to come and dine with me there to-night, at eight +o'clock." + +Her eyes sought his, pleaded with them, searched them. + +"You are sure, John?" she asked, her voice a little broken. "You want +me really? I am to come? You won't be sorry--afterward?" + +"I am sure," he answered steadfastly. "I shall expect you at eight +o'clock!" + + * * * * * + +John went back to his rooms fighting all the time against a sense of +unreality, a sense almost of lost identity. He bought an evening +newspaper and read it on the way. He talked to the hall-porter, he +talked to a neighbor with whom he ascended in the lift--he did +everything except think. + +In his rooms he telephoned to the restaurant for a waiter, and with the +menu in his hand, a few minutes later, he ordered dinner. Then he +glanced at his watch--it was barely seven o'clock. He went down to the +barber-shop, was shaved and had his hair cut, encouraging the barber all +the time to talk to him. He gave his hands over to a manicure, and did +his best to talk nonsense to her. Then he came up-stairs again, changed +his clothes with great care, and went into his little sitting room. + +It was five minutes to eight, and dinner had been laid at a little round +table in the center of the room. There was a bowl of pink roses--Sophy's +favorite flower--sent in from the florist's; the table was lighted by a +pink-shaded lamp. John went around the room, turning out the other +lights, until the apartment was hung with shadows save for the little +spot of color in the middle. An unopened bottle of champagne stood in an +ice-pail, and two specially prepared cocktails had been placed upon the +little side-table. There were no more preparations to be made. + +John walked restlessly to the window and gazed at the curving line of +lights along the Embankment. This was the end, then--the end of his +strenuous days, the end of his ideals, the end of a love-story which had +made life for a time seem so wonderful! He could hear them talking about +him in a few days' time--the prince's subtle sneer, the jests of his +acquaintances. And Louise! His heart stopped for a moment as he tried to +think of her face when she heard the news. + +He turned impatiently away from the window and glanced at the clock. It +was almost eight. He tried to imagine that the bell was ringing, that +Sophy was standing there on the threshold in her simple but dainty +evening dress, with a little smile parting her lips. The end of it all! +He pulled down the blind. No more of the window, no more looking out at +the lights, no more living in the clouds! It was time, indeed, that he +lived as other men. He lifted one of the glasses to his lips and drained +its contents. + +Then the bell rang. He moved forward to answer its summons with beating +heart. As he opened it, he received a shock. A messenger-boy stood +outside. He took the note which the boy handed him and tore it open +under the lamp. There were only a few lines: + + John, my heart is breaking, but I know you do not mean what you + said. I know it was only a moment of madness with you. I know + you will love Louise all your life, and will bless me all your + life because I am giving up the one thing which could make my + life a paradise. I shall be in the train when you read this, on + my way to Bath. I have wired my young man, as you call him, to + meet me. I am going to ask him to marry me, if he will, next + week. + + Good-by! I give you no advice. Some day I think that life will + right itself with you. + + SOPHY. + +The letter dropped upon the table. John stood for a moment dazed. +Suddenly he began to laugh. Then he remembered the messenger-boy, gave +him half a crown, and closed the door. He came back into the room and +took his place at the table. He looked at the empty chair by his side, +looked at the full glass on the sideboard. It seemed to him that he was +past all sensations. The waiter came in silently. + +"You can serve the dinner," John ordered, shaking out his napkin. "Open +the champagne before you go." + +"You will be alone, sir?" the man inquired. + +"I shall be alone," John answered. + + + + + XXXVIII + + +It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the green logs that +burned on the open hearth, and for the slow movements of Jennings as he +cleared the table. Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper by +his side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. Opposite to him, +almost as grim, equally silent, sat John. + +"Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, John?" Stephen asked +at last. + +"There was nothing doing," was the brief reply. + +That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, was the sole attempt +at conversation between the two brothers. Then Jennings appeared with a +decanter of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. Stephen +held his up to the light and looked at it critically. John's remained by +his side, unnoticed. + +"A glass for yourself, Jennings," Stephen ordered. + +"I thank ye kindly, sir," the old man replied. + +He fetched a glass from the sideboard, filled it, and held it +respectfully before him. + +"It's the old toast," Stephen said glumly. "You know it!" + +"Aye, Master Stephen!" the servant assented. "We've drunk it together +for many a long year. I give it ye now with all my heart--confusion to +all women!" + +They both glanced toward John, who showed no signs of movement. Then +they drank together, the older man and his servant. Still John never +moved. Jennings drained his glass, placed the decanter by his master's +side, and withdrew. + +"So the poison's still there, brother?" Stephen asked. + +"And will be so long as I live," John confessed gloomily. "For all that, +I'll not drink your toast." + +"Why not?" + +"There was a little girl--you saw her when you were in London. She is +married now, but I think of her sometimes; and when I do, you and old +Jennings seem to me like a couple of blithering idiots cursing things +too wonderful for you to understand!" + +Stephen made no protest. For a time he smoked in silence. Curiously +enough, as they sat there together, some of the grim fierceness seemed +to have passed from his expression and settled upon John. More than +once, as he looked across at his younger brother, it almost seemed as if +there was something of self-reproach in his questioning look. + +"You dined at the ordinary in Market Ketton?" Stephen asked at last. + +"I did." + +"Then you heard the news?" + +"Who could help it?" John muttered. "There wasn't much else talked +about." + +"Bailiff Henderson has been over here," Stephen went on. "There's a +small army of painters and decorators coming down to the castle next +week. You saw the announcement of the wedding in the _Morning Post_, +maybe?" + +John assented without words. Stephen smoked vigorously for a few +moments. Every now and then he glanced across to where John was sitting. +Once again the uneasiness was in his eyes, an uneasiness which was +almost self-reproach. + +"You mind what I called her once, John--a witch-woman? She is that, +right enough. This marriage of hers proves it. Although he is half a +Frenchman, the Prince of Seyre is the greatest landowner in the county. +He is the worst landlord, maybe, but the blood's there. He is a man who +has lived among women all his life. He should know something about them, +and be proof against their wiles. Yet he's going to marry her next +Thursday!" + +John moved a little restlessly in his chair. + +"Let's drop it, Stephen," he begged. "We both know the facts. She is +going to marry him, and that's the end of it. Fill your glass up again. +Here's mine untouched. I'll drink your toast with you, if you'll leave +out the little girl who was kind to me. I'll give it to you +myself--confusion to all women!" + +"Confusion to--" Stephen began. "What on earth is that?" + +They both heard it at the same time--the faint beating of a motor-engine +in the distance. John set down his glass. There was a strange look in +his eyes. + +"There are more cars passing along the road now than in the old days," +he muttered; "but that's a queer sound. It reminds one--good Heavens, +how it reminds one!" + +There was a look of agony in his face for a moment. Then once more he +raised his glass to his lips. + +"It's passed out of hearing," Stephen said. "It's some one on the way to +the castle, maybe." + +Still their glasses remained suspended in mid air. The little garden +gate had opened and closed with a click; there were footsteps upon the +flinty walk. + +"It's some one coming here!" John cried hoarsely. "Why can't they keep +away? It's two years ago this week since I brought her up the drive and +you met us at the front door. Two years ago, Stephen! Who can it be?" + +They heard the front door open, they heard Jenning's voice raised in +unusual and indignant protest. Then their own door was suddenly flung +wide, and a miracle happened. John's glass slipped from his fingers, and +the wine streamed out across the carpet. He shrank back, gripping the +tablecloth. Stephen turned his head, and sat as if turned to stone. + +"John!" + +She was coming toward him exactly as he had dreamed of her so many +times, her hands outstretched, her lips quivering, with that sweet look +in her face which had dwelt there once for a few days--just a few days +of her life. + +"John," she faltered, "it isn't the car this time--it is I who have +broken down! I cannot go on. I have no pride left. I have come to you. +Will you help me?" + +He found himself upon his feet. Stephen, too, had risen. She stood +between the two men, and glanced from one to the other. Then she looked +more closely into John's face, peering forward with a little start of +pain, and her eyes were filled with tears. + +"John," she cried, "forgive me! You were so cruel that morning, and you +seemed to understand so little. Don't you really understand, even now? +Have you ever known the truth, I wonder?" + +"The truth!" he echoed hoarsely. "Don't we all know that? Don't we all +know that he is to give you your rights, that you are coming--" + +"Stop!" she ordered him. + +He obeyed, and for a moment there was silence--a tense, strained +silence. + +"John," she continued at last, "I have no rights to receive from the +Prince of Seyre. He owes me nothing. Listen! Always we have seen life +differently, you and I. To me there is only one great thing, and that is +love; and beyond that nothing counts. I tried to love the prince before +you came, and I thought I did, and I promised him at last what you know, +because I believed that he loved me and that I loved him, and that if so +it was his right. Look down the road, John! On that night I was on my +way to the castle, to give myself to him; but I broke down, and in the +morning the world was all different, and I went back to London. It has +been different ever since, and there has never been any question of +anything between the prince and me, because I knew that it was not +love." + +John was shaking in every limb. His eyes were filled with fierce +questioning. Stephen sat there, and there was wonder in his face, too. + +"When you came to me that morning," she went on, "you spoke to me in a +strange tongue. I couldn't understand you, you seemed so far away. I +wanted to tell you the whole truth, but I didn't. Perhaps I wasn't +sure--perhaps it seemed to me that it was best for me to forget, if ever +I had cared, for the ways of our lives seemed so far apart. You went +away, and I drifted on; but it wasn't true that I ever promised to marry +the prince. No one had any right to put that paragraph in the +newspaper!" + +"But what are you doing here, then?" John asked hoarsely. "Aren't you on +your way to the castle?" + +She came a little nearer still; her arms went around his neck. + +"You dear stupid!" she cried. "Haven't I told you? I've tried to do +without you, and I can't. I've come for you. Come outside, please! It's +quite light. The moon's coming over the hills. I want to walk up the +orchard. I want to hear just what I've come to hear!" + +He passed out of the room in a dream, under the blossom-laden boughs of +the orchard, and up the hillside toward the church. The dream passed, +but Louise remained, flesh and blood. Her lips were warm and her arms +held him almost feverishly. + +"In that little church, John, and quickly--so quickly, please!" she +whispered. + + * * * * * + +Jennings hastened in to where Stephen was sitting alone. + +"Mr. Stephen," he cried, "what's coming to us? There's that French hussy +outside, and a motor-car in the drive, and the chauffeur's asking where +he's to sleep. The woman wants to know whether she can have the same +bedroom for her mistress as last time!" + +"Then why don't you go and see about it, you old fool?" Stephen replied. +"Pick up those pieces of glass there, lay the cloth, and get some supper +ready." + +Jennings gazed at his master, dumbfounded. No power of speech remained +to him. + +Through the open doorway they heard Aline's voice in the hall. + +"Meester Jennings, will you please come and help me with the luggage?" + +"Get along with you!" Stephen ordered. "You'd better hurry up with the +supper, too. The boy Tom can see to the luggage." + +The old man recovered himself slowly. + +"You're taking 'em in, sir--taking 'em into the house?" he gasped. "What +about that toast?" + +Stephen refilled two glasses. + +"We'd better alter it a little," he declared. "Here's confusion to most +women, but luck to John and his wife!" + +"Mr. John and his wife!" Jennings repeated, as he set his glass down +empty. "I'll just see that them sheets is aired up-stairs, sir, or that +hussy will be making eyes at Tom!" + +He departed, and Stephen was left alone. He sat and listened to the +sound of luggage being taken upstairs, to Aline's little torrent of +directions, good-humored but profuse, to the sound of preparations in +the kitchen. In the room the tall clock ticked solemnly; a fragment of +the log every now and then fell upon the hearth. + +Presently he rose to his feet. He heard the click of the garden gate, +the sound of John and Louise returning. He rose and stood ready to +welcome them. + + + + + THE END + + + + + Popular Copyright Novels + + _AT MODERATE PRICES_ + + Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of + A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction + + + =Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The.= By Frank L. Packard. + =Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.= By A. Conan Doyle. + =Affinities, and Other Stories.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + =After House, The.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + =Against the Winds.= By Kate Jordan. + =Ailsa Paige.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Also Ran.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + =Amateur Gentleman, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Anderson Crow, Detective.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + =Anna, the Adventuress.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Anne's House of Dreams.= By L. M. Montgomery. + =Anybody But Anne.= By Carolyn Wells. + =Are All Men Alike, and The Lost Titian.= By Arthur Stringer. + =Around Old Chester.= By Margaret Deland. + =Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist.= By John T. McIntyre. + =Ashton-Kirk, Investigator.= By John T. McIntyre. + =Ashton-Kirk, Secret Agent.= By John T. McIntyre. + =Ashton-Kirk, Special Detective.= By John T. McIntyre. + =Athalie.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =At the Mercy of Tiberius.= By Augusta Evans Wilson. + =Auction Block, The.= By Rex Beach. + =Aunt Jane of Kentucky.= By Eliza C. Hall. + =Awakening of Helena Richie.= By Margaret Deland. + + =Bab: a Sub-Deb.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + =Bambi.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + =Barbarians.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Bar 20.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + =Bar 20 Days.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + =Barrier, The.= By Rex Beach. + =Bars of Iron, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. + =Beasts of Tarzan, The.= By Edgar Rice Burroughs. + =Beckoning Roads.= By Jeanne Judson. + =Belonging.= By Olive Wadsley. + =Beloved Traitor, The.= By Frank L. Packard. + =Beloved Vagabond, The.= By Wm. J. Locke. + =Beltane the Smith.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Betrayal, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Beulah.= (III. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. + =Beyond the Frontier.= By Randall Parrish. + =Big Timber.= By Bertrand W. Sinclair. + =Black Bartlemy's Treasure.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Black Is White.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + =Blacksheep! Blacksheep!.= By Meredith Nicholson. + =Blind Man's Eyes, The.= By Wm. Mac Harg and Edwin Balmer. + =Boardwalk, The.= By Margaret Widdemer. + =Bob Hampton of Placer.= By Randall Parrish. + =Bob, Son of Battle.= By Alfred Olivant. + =Box With Broken Seals, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Boy With Wings, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Brandon of the Engineers.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Bridge of Kisses, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Broad Highway, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Broadway Bab.= By Johnston McCulley. + =Brown Study, The.= By Grace S. Richmond. + =Bruce of the Circle A.= By Harold Titus. + =Buccaneer Farmer, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Buck Peters, Ranchman.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + =Builders, The.= By Ellen Glasgow. + =Business of Life, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + + =Cab of the Sleeping Horse, The.= By John Reed Scott. + =Cabbage and Kings.= By O. Henry. + =Cabin Fever.= By B. M. Bower. + =Calling of Dan Matthews, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. + =Cape Cod Stories.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper.= By James A. Cooper. + =Cap'n Dan's Daughter.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Cap'n Erl.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Cap'n Jonah's Fortune.= By James A. Cooper. + =Cap'n Warren's Wards.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Chinese Label, The.= By J. Frank Davis. + =Christine of the Young Heart.= By Louise Breintenbach Clancy. + =Cinderella Jane.= By Marjorie B. Cooke. + =Cinema Murder, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =City of Masks, The.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + =Cleek of Scotland Yard.= By T. W. Hanshew. + =Cleek, The Man of Forty Faces.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. + =Cleek's Government Cases.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. + =Clipped Wings.= By Rupert Hughes. + =Clutch of Circumstance, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + =Coast of Adventure, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Come-Back, The.= By Carolyn Wells. + =Coming of Cassidy, The.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + =Coming of the Law, The.= By Charles A. Seltzer. + =Comrades of Peril.= By Randall Parrish. + =Conquest of Canaan, The.= By Booth Tarkington. + =Conspirators, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Contraband.= By Randall Parrish. + =Cottage of Delight, The.= By Will N. Harben. + =Court of Inquiry, A.= By Grace S. Richmond. + =Cricket, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + =Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure.= By Rex Beach. + =Crimson Tide, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Cross Currents.= By Author of "Pollyanna." + =Cross Pull, The.= By Hal. G. Evarts. + =Cry in the Wilderness, A.= By Mary E. Waller. + =Cry of Youth, A.= By Cynthia Lombardi. + =Cup of Fury, The.= By Rupert Hughes. + =Curious Quest, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + + =Danger and Other Stories.= By A. Conan Doyle. + =Dark Hollow, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. + =Dark Star, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Daughter Pays, The.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + =Day of Days, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + =Depot Master, The.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Destroying Angel, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + =Devil's Own, The.= By Randall Parrish. + =Devil's Paw, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Disturbing Charm, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Door of Dread, The.= By Arthur Stringer. + =Dope.= By Sax Rohmer. + =Double Traitor, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Duds.= By Henry C. Rowland. + =Empty Pockets.= By Rupert Hughes. + =Erskine Dale Pioneer.= By John Fox, Jr. + =Everyman's Land.= By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. + =Extricating Obadiah.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Eyes of the Blind, The.= By Arthur Somers Roche. + =Eyes of the World, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. + + =Fairfax and His Pride.= By Marie Van Vorst. + =Felix O'Day.= By F. Hopkinson Smith. + =54-40 or Fight.= By Emerson Hough. + =Fighting Chance, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Fighting Fool, The.= By Dane Coolidge. + =Fighting Shepherdess, The.= By Caroline Lockhart. + =Financier, The.= By Theodore Dreiser. + =Find the Woman.= By Arthur Somers Roche. + =First Sir Percy, The.= By The Baroness Orczy. + =Flame, The.= By Olive Wadsley. + =For Better, for Worse.= By W. B. Maxwell. + =Forbidden Trail, The.= By Honorè Willsie. + =Forfeit, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + =Fortieth Door, The.= By Mary Hastings Bradley. + =Four Million, The.= By O. Henry. + =From Now On.= By Frank L. Packard. + =Fur Bringers, The.= By Hulbert Footner. + =Further Adventures of Jimmie Dale.= By Frank L. Packard. + + =Get Your Man.= By Ethel and James Dorrance. + =Girl in the Mirror, The.= By Elizabeth Jordan. + =Girl of O. K. Valley, The.= By Robert Watson. + =Girl of the Blue Ridge, A.= By Payne Erskine. + =Girl from Keller's, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Girl Philippa, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Girls at His Billet, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Glory Rides the Range.= By Ethel and James Dorrance. + =Gloved Hand, The.= By Burton E. Stevenson. + =God's Country and the Woman.= By James Oliver Curwood. + =God's Good Man.= By Marie Corelli. + =Going Some.= By Rex Beach. + =Gold Girl, The.= By James B. Hendryx. + =Golden Scorpion, The.= By Sax Rohmer. + + + + + TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: + +Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). + +Text in bold is enclosed by equal signs (=bold=). + +Text in small caps have been replaced with ALL CAPS. + +Errors in spelling and punctuations were not corrected unless otherwise +noted below: + +On page 5, "unforgetable" was replaced with "unforgettable". + +On page 51, the comma after "more time here" was replaced with a period. + +On page 81, "confesed" was replaced with "confessed". + +On page 97, "he said." was replaced with "she said.". + +On page 132, "Gaillot" was replaced with "Graillot". + +On page 241, "carefullly" was replaced with "carefully". + +On page 269, "tast" was replaced with "taste". + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hillman, by E. 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Phillips Oppenheim. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + text-indent: 0em; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.noindent { + text-indent: 0em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.hr2 +{ + width: 90%; + max-width: 32em; + color: white; + background-color: white; + border: none; + border-bottom: 6px double black; + margin: 2em auto; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.bbox1 {border: solid 1px; +} + +.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; +} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +img { + border: 1px solid black; + padding: 6px; +} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +span.lalign { + position: relative; + margin-right: 1em; + text-align: left; + top: auto; +} + +span.ralign { + position: relative; + margin-left: 1em; + text-align: right; + top: auto; +} + +#tnote +{ + width: 26em; + border: 1px dashed #808080; + background-color: #f6f6f6; + text-align: justify; + padding: 0em 0.75em; + margin: 20px auto 20px auto; + font-size: smaller; +} + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hillman, by E. Phillips Oppenheim + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hillman + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + +Illustrator: George Avison + +Release Date: October 5, 2010 [EBook #34035] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HILLMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Siobhan Hillman, D Alexander, Ernest Schaal, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/icover.jpg" width="400" height="598" alt="book cover" +title="book cover" /> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<h1>THE HILLMAN</h1> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="400" height="602" alt="What followed +came like a thunder-clap. Frontispiece. See page 304." title="" /> +<span class="caption">What followed came like a thunder-clap. +Frontispiece. See page 304.</span> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="bbox1"> +<h1>The Hillman</h1> +</div> + +<div class="bbox1"> +<h2>By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM</h2> +</div> + +<div class="bbox1"> +<p class="center">Author of "The Kingdom of The Blind"<br /> +"Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo," Etc.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="200" height="200" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">WITH FRONTISPIECE<br /> +By GEORGE AVISON</p> +</div> + +<div class="bbox1"> +<p class="center">A. L. BURT COMPANY</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="lalign">Publishers</span> <span class="ralign">New York</span></p> + +<p class="center">Published by Arrangement with <span class="smcap">Little, Brown & Company</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1917</i>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Little, Brown, and Company</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<p class="center">Published, January, 1917<br /> +Reprinted, January, 1917 (twice)<br /> +February, 1917 (twice)<br /> +March, 1917; April, 1917 +</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<h2>THE HILLMAN</h2> + +<h2>I</h2> + +<p>Louise, self-engrossed, and with a pleasant sense of +detachment from the prospective inconveniences of the +moment, was leaning back among the cushions of the +motionless car. Her eyes, lifted upward, traveled past +the dimly lit hillside, with its patchwork of wall-enclosed +fields, up to where the leaning clouds and the unseen +heights met in a misty sea of obscurity.</p> + +<p>The moon had not yet risen, but a faint and luminous +glow, spreading like a halo about the topmost peak of +that ragged line of hills, heralded its approach. Louise +sat with clasped hands, rapt and engrossed in the +esthetic appreciation of a beauty which found its way +but seldom into her town-enslaved life. She listened to +the sound of a distant sheepbell. Her eyes swept the +hillsides, vainly yet without curiosity, for any sign of +a human dwelling. The voices of her chauffeur and her +maid, who stood talking heatedly together by the bonnet +of the car, seemed to belong to another world. She +had the air of one completely yet pleasantly detached +from all material surroundings.</p> + +<p>The maid, leaving her discomfited companion with a +final burst of reproaches, came to the side of the car. +Her voice, when she addressed her mistress, sank to a +lower key, but her eyes still flashed with anger.</p> + +<p>"But would <i>madame</i> believe it?" she exclaimed. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 2]</span> +"It is incredible! The man Charles there, who calls +himself a chauffeur of experience, declares that we are +what he calls 'hung up'! Something unexpected has +happened to the magneto. There is no spark. Whose +fault can that be, I ask, but the chauffeur's? And such +a desert we have reached! We have searched the map +together. We are thirty miles from any town, many +miles from even a village. What a misfortune!"</p> + +<p>Louise turned her head regretfully away from the +mysterious spaces. She listened patiently, but without +any sort of emotion, to her maid's flow of distressed +words. She even smiled very faintly when the girl had +finished.</p> + +<p>"Something will happen," she remarked indifferently. +"There is no need for you to distress yourself. +There must be a farmhouse or shelter of some sort near. +If the worst comes to the worst, we can spend the night +in the car. We have plenty of furs and rugs. You +are not a good traveler, Aline. You lose heart too +soon."</p> + +<p>The girl's face was a study.</p> + +<p>"<i>Madame</i> speaks of spending the night in the car!" +she exclaimed. "Why, one has not eaten since luncheon, +and of all the country through which we have +passed, this is the loneliest and dreariest spot."</p> + +<p>Louise leaned forward and called to the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"Charles," she asked, "what has happened? Are +we really stranded here?"</p> + +<p>The man's head emerged from the bonnet. He came +round to the side of the car.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, madam," he reported, "but something +has gone wrong with the magneto. I shall have +to take it to pieces before I can tell exactly what is +wrong. At present I can't get a spark of any sort."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 3]</span> +"There is no hope of any immediate repair, then?"</p> + +<p>The chauffeur shook his head dolefully.</p> + +<p>"I shall have to take the magneto down, madam," he +said. "It will take several hours, and it ought to be +done by daylight."</p> + +<p>"And in the meantime, what do you suggest that we +do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The man looked a little helpless. His battle of +words with Aline had depressed him.</p> + +<p>"I heard a dog bark a little while ago," he remarked. +"Perhaps I had better go and see whether there isn't +a farm somewhere near."</p> + +<p>"And leave us here alone?" Aline exclaimed indignantly. +"It is a good suggestion. It comes well from +the man who has got us into such trouble!"</p> + +<p>Her mistress smiled at her reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"What have we to fear, you foolish girl? For myself, +I would like better than anything to remain here +until the moon comes over the top of that round hill. +But listen! It is just as I told you. There is no necessity +for Charles to leave us."</p> + +<p>They all turned their heads. From some distance +behind on the hard, narrow road, curling like a piece of +white tape around the hillside, there came, faintly at +first, but more distinctly every moment, the sound of +horse's hoofs.</p> + +<p>"It is as I told you," Louise said composedly. +"Some one approaches—on horseback, too. He will +be able to fetch assistance."</p> + +<p>The chauffeur walked back a few yards, prepared to +give early warning to the approaching horseman. The +two women, standing up in the car, watched the spot +where the road, hidden for some time in the valley, came +into sight.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 4]</span> +Louder and louder came the sound of the beating of +hoofs. Louise gave a little cry as a man on horseback +appeared in sight at the crest of the hill. The narrow +strip of road seemed suddenly dwarfed, an unreasonable +portion of the horizon blotted out. In the half light +there was something almost awesome in the unusual +size of the horse and of the man who rode it.</p> + +<p>"It is a world of goblins, this, Aline!" her mistress +exclaimed softly. "What is it that comes?"</p> + +<p>"It is a human being, <i>Dieu merci</i>!" the maid replied, +with a matter-of-fact little sigh of content.</p> + +<p>Conscious of the obstruction in the road, the rider +slackened his speed. His horse, a great, dark-colored +animal, pricked up his ears when scarcely a dozen yards +away from the car, stopped short, and suddenly bolted +out on the open moor. There was the sound of a heavy +whip, a loud, masterful voice, and a very brief struggle, +during which the horse once plunged and reared so high +that Louise, watching, cried out in fear. A few moments +later, however, horse and rider, the former quivering +and subdued, were beside the car.</p> + +<p>"Has anything happened?" the newcomer asked, +raising his whip to his hat.</p> + +<p>He addressed Louise, instinctively conscious, even in +that dim light, that she was the person in authority.</p> + +<p>She did not at once reply. Her eyes were fixed upon +the face of her questioner. There was little enough of +him to be seen, yet she was aware of an exceptional interest +in his dimly revealed personality. He was +young, unusually tall, and his voice was cultivated. +Beyond that, she could see or divine nothing.</p> + +<p>He, for his part, with his attention still largely engaged +in keeping his horse under control, yet knew, in +those first few moments, that he was looking into the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 5]</span> +face of a woman who had no kinship with the world in +which he had been born and had lived his days. Those +were fugitive thoughts which passed between them, only +half conceived, yet strong enough to remain as first and +unforgettable impressions. Then the commonplace interests +of the situation became insistent.</p> + +<p>"I have broken down," Louise said. "My chauffeur +tells me that it will take hours to effect some necessary +repair to the car. And meanwhile—here we are!"</p> + +<p>"You couldn't have chosen a worse place for a breakdown," +the young man observed. "You are miles +away from anywhere."</p> + +<p>"You are indeed a comforter!" Louise murmured. +"Do you think that you could possibly get down +and advise us what to do? You look so far away up +there."</p> + +<p>There was another brief struggle between the man +and his still frightened horse. Then the former swung +himself down, and, with the bridle through his arm, +came and stood by the car.</p> + +<p>"If there is any way in which I can help," he ventured, +"I am quite at your service."</p> + +<p>Louise smiled at him. She remained unoppressed by +any fear of inconvenience or hardship. She had the +air of one rather enjoying her plight.</p> + +<p>"Well, you have begun very nicely by doing what I +asked you," she said. "Really, you know, to an impressionable +person there was something rather terrifying +about you when you appeared suddenly from out of +the shadows in such a lonely place. I was beginning +to wonder whether you were altogether real, whether +one of those black hills there had not opened to let you +out. You see, I know something of the legends of your +country, although I have never been here before."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 6]</span> +The young man was less at his ease. He stood tapping +his boot nervously with his long riding-whip.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry if I frightened you," he said. "My +horse is a little restive, and the acetylene light which +your chauffeur turned on him was sufficiently alarming."</p> + +<p>"You did not exactly frighten me," she assured him, +"but you looked so abnormally large. Please tell us +what you would advise us to do. Is there a village near, +or an inn, or even a barn? Or shall we have to spend +the night in the car?"</p> + +<p>"The nearest village," he replied, "is twelve miles +away. Fortunately, my own home is close by. I shall +be very pleased—I and my brother—if you will honor +us. I am afraid I cannot offer you very much in the +way of entertainment—"</p> + +<p>She rose briskly to her feet and beamed upon him.</p> + +<p>"You are indeed a good Samaritan!" she exclaimed. +"A roof is more than we had dared to hope for, although +when one looks up at this wonderful sky and +breathes this air, one wonders, perhaps, whether a roof, +after all, is such a blessing."</p> + +<p>"It gets very cold toward morning," the young man +said practically.</p> + +<p>"Of course," she assented. "Aline, you will bring +my dressing-bag and follow us. This gentleman is kind +enough to offer us shelter for the night. Dear me, you +really are almost as tall as you appeared!" she added, +as she stood by his side. "For the first time in my life +you make me feel undersized."</p> + +<p>He looked down at her, a little more at his ease now +by reason of the friendliness of her manner, although +he had still the air of one embarked upon an adventure, +the outcome of which was to be regarded with some +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 7]</span> +qualms. She was of little more than medium height, +and his first impressions of her were that she was thin, +and too pale to be good-looking; that her eyes were +large and soft, with eyebrows more clearly defined than +is usual among Englishwomen; and that she moved without +seeming to walk.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I am tall," he admitted, as they started +off along the road. "One doesn't notice it around +here. My name is John Strangewey, and our house is +just behind that clump of trees there, on the top of the +hill. We will do our best to make you comfortable," +he added a little doubtfully; "but there are only my +brother and myself, and we have no women servants in +the house."</p> + +<p>"A roof of any sort will be a luxury," she assured +him. "I only hope that we shall not be a trouble to +you in any way."</p> + +<p>"And your name, please?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She was a little amazed at his directness, but she +answered him without hesitation.</p> + +<p>"My name," she told him, "is Louise."</p> + +<p>He leaned down toward her, a little puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Louise? But your surname?"</p> + +<p>She laughed softly. It occurred to him that nothing +like her laugh had ever been heard on that gray-walled +stretch of mountain road.</p> + +<p>"Never mind! I am traveling incognito. Who I +am, or where I am going—well, what does that matter +to anybody? Perhaps I do not know myself. You can +imagine, if you like, that we came from the heart of your +hills, and that to-morrow they will open again and welcome +us back."</p> + +<p>"I don't think there are any motor-cars in fairyland," +he objected.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 8]</span> +"We represent a new edition of fairy lore," she told +him. "Modern romance, you know, includes motor-cars +and even French maids."</p> + +<p>"All the same," he protested, with masculine bluntness, +"I really don't see how I can introduce you to my +brother as 'Louise from fairyland.'"</p> + +<p>She evaded the point.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about your brother. Is he as tall as you, +and is he younger or older?"</p> + +<p>"He is nearly twenty years older," her companion +replied. "He is about my height, but he stoops more +than I do, and his hair is gray. I am afraid that you +may find him a little peculiar."</p> + +<p>Her escort paused and swung open a white gate on +their left-hand side. Before them was an ascent which +seemed to her, in the dim light, to be absolutely precipitous.</p> + +<p>"Do we have to climb up that?" she asked ruefully.</p> + +<p>"It isn't so bad as it looks," he assured her, "and I +am afraid it's the only way up. The house is at the +bend there, barely fifty yards away. You can see a +light through the trees."</p> + +<p>"You must help me, then, please," she begged.</p> + +<p>He stooped down toward her. She linked her fingers +together through his left arm, and, leaning a little +heavily upon him, began the ascent. He was conscious +of some subtle fragrance from her clothes, a perfume +strangely different from the odor of the ghostlike flowers +that bordered the steep path up which they were +climbing. Her arms, slight, warm things though they +were, and great though his own strength, felt suddenly +like a yoke. At every step he seemed to feel their +weight more insistent—a weight not physical, solely +due to this rush of unexpected emotions.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 9]</span> +It was he now whose thoughts rushed away to that +medley of hill legends of which she had spoken. Was +she indeed a creature of flesh and blood, of the same +world as the dull people among whom he lived? Then +he remembered the motor-car, the chauffeur, and the +French maid, and he gave a little sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"Are we nearly there?" she asked. "Do tell me if +I lean too heavily upon you."</p> + +<p>"It is only a few steps further," he replied encouragingly. +"Please lean upon me as heavily as you like."</p> + +<p>She looked around her almost in wonder as her companion +paused with his hand upon a little iron gate. +From behind that jagged stretch of hills in the distance +a corner of the moon had now appeared. By its light, +looking backward, she could see the road which they had +left below, the moorland stretching away into misty +space, an uneasy panorama with its masses of gray +boulders, its clumps of gorse, its hillocks and hollows.</p> + +<p>Before her, through the little iron gate which her escort +had pushed open, was a garden, a little austere +looking with its prim flower-beds, filled with hyacinths +and crocuses, bordering the flinty walks. The trees +were all bent in the same direction, fashioned after one +pattern by the winds. Before them was the house—a +long, low building, part of it covered with some kind of +creeper.</p> + +<p>As they stepped across the last few yards of lawn, +the black, oak door which they were approaching suddenly +opened. A tall, elderly man stood looking inquiringly +out. He shaded his eyes with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, brother?" he asked doubtfully.</p> + +<p>John Strangewey ushered his companion into the +square, oak-paneled hall, hung with many trophies of +the chase, a few oil-paintings, here and there some +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 10]</span> +sporting prints. It was lighted only with a single +lamp which stood upon a round, polished table in the +center of the white-flagged floor.</p> + +<p>"This lady's motor-car has broken down, Stephen," +John explained, turning a little nervously toward his +brother. "I found them in the road, just at the bottom +of the hill. She and her servants will spend the +night here. I have explained that there is no village or +inn for a good many miles."</p> + +<p>Louise turned graciously toward the elder man, who +was standing grimly apart. Even in those few seconds, +her quick sensibilities warned her of the hostility +which lurked behind his tightly closed lips and steel-gray +eyes. His bow was stiff and uncordial, and he +made no movement to offer his hand.</p> + +<p>"We are not used to welcoming ladies at Peak Hall, +madam," he said. "I am afraid that you will find us +somewhat unprepared for guests."</p> + +<p>"I ask for nothing more than a roof," Louise assured +him.</p> + +<p>John threw his hat and whip upon the round table +and stood in the center of the stone floor. She caught +a glance which flashed between the two men—of appeal +from the one, of icy resentment from the other.</p> + +<p>"We can at least add to the roof a bed and some +supper—and a welcome," John declared. "Is that +not so, Stephen?"</p> + +<p>The older man turned deliberately away. It was as +if he had not heard his brother's words.</p> + +<p>"I will go and find Jennings," he said. "He must +be told about the servants."</p> + +<p>Louise watched the disappearing figure until it was +out of sight. Then she looked up into the face of the +younger man, who was standing by her side.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 11]</span> +"I am sorry," she murmured apologetically. "I +am afraid that your brother is not pleased at this sudden +intrusion. Really, we shall give you very little +trouble."</p> + +<p>He answered her with a sudden eager enthusiasm. +He seemed far more natural then than at any time since +he had ridden up from out of the shadows to take his +place in her life.</p> + +<p>"I won't apologize for Stephen," he said. "He is +a little crotchety. You must please be kind and not +notice. You must let me, if I can, offer you welcome +enough for us both."</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 12]</span></p> + +<h2>II</h2> + +<p>Louise, with a heavy, silver-plated candlestick in her +hand, stood upon the uneven floor of the bedroom to +which she had been conducted, looking up at the oak-framed +family tree which hung above the broad chimney-piece. +She examined the coat of arms emblazoned +in the corner, and peered curiously at the last neatly +printed addition, which indicated Stephen and John +Strangewey as the sole survivors of a diminishing line. +When at last she turned away, she found the name upon +her lips.</p> + +<p>"Strangewey!" she murmured. "John Strangewey! +The name seems to bring something into my +memory. Have I ever known any one with such a +name, Aline?"</p> + +<p>The maid shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Never, <i>madame</i>, to the best of my belief," she declared. +"Yet I, too, seem to have heard it, and lately. +It is perplexing. One has seen it somewhere. One +finds it familiar."</p> + +<p>Louise shrugged her shoulders. She stood for a moment +looking around her before she laid down the +candlestick.</p> + +<p>The room was of unusual size, with two worm-eaten +beams across the ceiling; the windows were casemented, +with broad seats in each recess. The dressing table, +upon which her belongings were set out, was of solid, +black oak, as was also the framework of the huge +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 13]</span> +sofa, the mirror, and the chairs. The ancient four-poster, +hung with chintz and supported by carved +pillars, was spread with fine linen and covered with a +quilt made of small pieces of silk, lavender-perfumed. +The great wardrobe, with its solid mahogany doors, +seemed ancient enough to have stood in its place since +the building of the house itself. A log of sweet-smelling +wood burned cheerfully in the open fireplace.</p> + +<p>"Really," Louise decided, "we have been most fortunate. +This is an adventure! Aline, give me some +black silk stockings and some black slippers. I will +change nothing else."</p> + +<p>The maid obeyed in somewhat ominous silence. Her +mistress, however, was living in a little world of her +own.</p> + +<p>"John Strangewey!" she murmured to herself, +glancing across the room at the family tree. "It is +really curious how that name brings with it a sense of +familiarity. It is so unusual, too. And what an unusual-looking +person! Do you think, Aline, that you +ever saw any one so superbly handsome?"</p> + +<p>The maid's little grimace was expressive.</p> + +<p>"Never, <i>madame</i>," she replied. "And yet to think +of it—a gentleman, a person of intelligence, who lives +here always, outside the world, with just a terrible old +man servant, the only domestic in the house! Nearly +all the cooking is done at the bailiff's, a quarter of a +mile away."</p> + +<p>Louise nodded thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"It is very strange," she admitted. "I should like +to understand it. Perhaps," she added, half to herself, +"some day I shall."</p> + +<p>She passed across the room, and on her way paused +before an old cheval-glass, before which were suspended +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 14]</span> +two silver candlesticks containing lighted wax candles. +She looked steadfastly at her own reflection. A little +smile parted her lips. In the bedroom of this quaint +farmhouse she was looking upon a face and a figure +which the illustrated papers and the enterprise of the +modern photographer had combined to make familiar +to the world.</p> + +<p>A curious feeling came to her that she was looking +at the face of a stranger. She gazed earnestly into the +mirror, with new eyes and a new curiosity. She contemplated +critically the lines of her slender figure in +its neat, perfectly tailored skirt—the figure of a girl, +it seemed, notwithstanding her twenty-seven years. +Her soft, white blouse was open at the neck, displaying +a beautifully rounded throat. Her eyes traveled upward, +and dwelt with an almost passionate interest upon +the oval face, a little paler at that moment than usual; +with its earnest, brown eyes, its faint, silky eyebrows, +its strong, yet mobile features; its lips a little full, +perhaps, but soft and sensitive; at the masses of brown +hair drawn low over her ears.</p> + +<p>This was herself, then. Did she really justify her +reputation for beauty, or was she just a cult, the passing +craze of a world a little weary of the ordinary +standards? Or, again, was it only her art that had +focused the admiration of the world upon her?</p> + +<p>How would she seem to these two men down-stairs, +she asked herself—the dour, grim master of the house, +and her more youthful rescuer, whose coming had somehow +touched her fancy? They saw so little of her sex. +They seemed, in a sense, to be in league against it. +Would they find out that they were entertaining an +angel unawares?</p> + +<p>She thought with a gratified smile of her incognito. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 15]</span> +It was a real trial of her strength, this! When she +turned away from the mirror the smile still lingered +upon her lips, a soft light of anticipation was shining +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>John met her at the foot of the stairs. She noticed +with some surprise that he was wearing the dinner-jacket +and black tie of civilization.</p> + +<p>"Will you come this way, please?" he begged. +"Supper is quite ready."</p> + +<p>He held open the door of one of the rooms on the +other side of the hall, and she passed into a low dining +room, dimly lit with shaded lamps. The elder brother +rose from his chair as they entered, although his salutation +was even grimmer than his first welcome. He +was wearing a dress-coat of old-fashioned cut, and a +black stock, and he remained standing, without any +smile or word of greeting, until she had taken her seat. +Behind his chair stood a very ancient man servant in a +gray pepper-and-salt suit, with a white tie, whose expression, +at the entrance of this unexpected guest, +seemed curiously to reflect the inhospitable instincts of +his master.</p> + +<p>Although conscious of this atmosphere of antagonism, +Louise looked around her with frank admiration as +she took her place in the high-backed chair which John +was holding for her. The correctness of the setting +appealed strongly to her artistic perceptions. The +figures and features of the two men—Stephen, tall, +severe, stately; John, amazingly handsome, but of the +same type; the black-raftered ceiling; the Jacobean +sideboard; the huge easy chairs; the fine prints upon +the walls; the pine log which burned upon the open +hearth—nowhere did there seem to be a single alien +or modern note.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 16]</span> +The table was laid with all manner of cold dishes, +supplemented by others upon the sideboard. There +were pots of jam and honey, a silver teapot and silver +spoons and forks of quaint design, strangely cut glass, +and a great Dresden bowl filled with flowers.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," John remarked, "that you are not +used to dining at this hour. My brother and I are +very old-fashioned in our customs. If we had had a +little longer notice—"</p> + +<p>"I never in my life saw anything that looked so delicious +as your cold chicken," Louise declared. "May +I have some—and some ham? I believe that you must +farm some land yourselves. Everything looks as if it +were home-made or home-grown."</p> + +<p>"We are certainly farmers," John admitted, with a +smile, "and I don't think there is much here that isn't +of our own production."</p> + +<p>"Of course, one must have some occupation, living +so far out of the world," Louise murmured. "I really +am the most fortunate person," she continued. "My +car comes to grief in what seems to be a wilderness, and +I find myself in a very palace of plenty!"</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that your maid agrees," John +laughed. "She seemed rather horrified when she found +that there was no woman servant about the place."</p> + +<p>"Aline is spoiled, without a doubt," her mistress declared. +"But is that really the truth?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely."</p> + +<p>"But how do you manage?" Louise went on. +"Don't you need dairymaids, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"The farm buildings are some distance away from +the house," John explained. "There is quite a little +colony at the back, and the woman who superintends +the dairy lives there. It is only in the house that +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 17]</span> +we are entirely independent of your sex. We manage, +somehow or other, with Jennings here and two +boys."</p> + +<p>"You are not both woman-haters, I hope?"</p> + +<p>Her younger host flashed a warning glance at Louise, +but it was too late. Stephen had laid down his knife +and fork and was leaning in her direction.</p> + +<p>"Madam," he intervened, "since you have asked the +question, I will confess that I have never known any +good come to a man of our family from the friendship +or service of women. Our family history, if ever you +should come to know it, would amply justify my brother +and myself for our attitude toward your sex."</p> + +<p>"Stephen!" John remonstrated, a slight frown upon +his face. "Need you weary our guest with your peculiar +views? It is scarcely polite, to say the least of +it."</p> + +<p>The older man sat, for a moment, grim and silent.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right, brother," he admitted. +"This lady did not seek our company, but it may interest +her to know that she is the first woman who has +crossed the threshold of Peak Hall for a matter of six +years."</p> + +<p>Louise looked from one to the other, half incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean it? Is that literally true?" +she asked John.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," the young man assured her; "but +please remember that you are none the less heartily +welcome here. We have few women neighbors, and intercourse +with them seems to have slipped out of our +lives. Tell me, how far have you come to-day, and +where did you hope to sleep to-night?"</p> + +<p>Louise hesitated for a moment. For some reason or +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 18]</span> +other, the question seemed to bring with it some unexpected +and disturbing thought.</p> + +<p>"I was motoring from Edinburgh. As regards to-night, +I had not made up my mind. I rather hoped to +reach Kendal. My journey is not at all an interesting +matter to talk about," she went on. "Tell me about +your life here. It sounds most delightfully pastoral. +Do you really mean that you produce nearly everything +yourselves? Your honey and preserves and bread and +butter, for instance—are they all home-made?"</p> + +<p>"And our hams," the young man laughed, "and +everything else upon the table. You underestimate the +potentiality of male labor. Jennings is certainly a better +cook than the average woman. Everything you see +was cooked by him. We have a sort of secondary +kitchen, though, down at the bailiff's, where the preserves +are made and some of the other things."</p> + +<p>"And you live here all the year round?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"My brother," John told her, "has not been further +away than the nearest market-town for nearly twenty +years."</p> + +<p>Her eyes grew round with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"But you go to London sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"I was there eight years ago. Since then I have +not been further away than Carlisle or Kendal. I go +into the camp near Kendal for three weeks every year—Territorial +training, you know."</p> + +<p>"But how do you pass your time? What do you do +with yourself?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Farm," he answered. "Farming is our daily occupation. +Then for amusement we hunt, shoot, and +fish. The seasons pass before we know it."</p> + +<p>She looked appraisingly at John Strangewey. Notwithstanding +his sun-tanned cheeks and the splendid +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 19]</span> +vigor of his form, there was nothing in the least agricultural +about his manner or his appearance. There +was humor as well as intelligence in his clear, gray eyes. +She opined that the books which lined one side of the +room were at once his property and his hobby.</p> + +<p>"It is a very healthy life, no doubt," she said; "but +somehow it seems incomprehensible to think of a man +like yourself living always in such an out-of-the-way +corner, with no desire to see what is going on in the +world, or to be able to form any estimate of the changes +in men's thoughts and habits. Human life seems to me +so much more interesting than anything else. Does +this all sound a little impertinent?" she wound up +naïvely. "I am so sorry! My friends spoil me, I believe, +and I get into the habit of saying things just as +they come into my head."</p> + +<p>John's lips were open to reply, but Stephen once +more intervened.</p> + +<p>"Life means a different thing to each of us, madam," +he said sternly. "There are many born with the lust +for cities and the crowded places in their hearts, born +with the desire to mingle with their fellows, to absorb +the conventional vices and virtues, to become one of +the multitude. It has been different with us Strangeweys."</p> + +<p>Jennings, at a sign from his master, removed the tea +equipage, evidently produced in honor of their visitor. +Three tall-stemmed glasses were placed upon the table, +and a decanter of port reverently produced.</p> + +<p>Louise had fallen for a moment or two into a fit of +abstraction. Her eyes were fixed upon the opposite +wall, from which, out of their faded frames, a row of +grim-looking men and women, startlingly like her two +hosts, seemed to frown down upon her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 20]</span> +"Is that your father?" she asked, moving her head +toward one of the portraits.</p> + +<p>"My grandfather, John Strangewey," Stephen told +her.</p> + +<p>"Was he one of the wanderers?"</p> + +<p>"He left Cumberland only twice during his life. He +was master of hounds, magistrate, colonel in the yeomanry +of that period, and three times he refused to +stand for Parliament."</p> + +<p>"John Strangewey!" Louise repeated softly to herself. +"I was looking at your family tree up-stairs," +she went on. "It is curious how both my maid and +myself were struck with a sense of familiarity about the +name, as if we had heard or read something about it +quite lately."</p> + +<p>Her words were almost carelessly spoken, but she +was conscious of the somewhat ominous silence which +ensued. She glanced up wonderingly and intercepted +a rapid look passing between the two men. More +puzzled than ever, she turned toward John as if for an +explanation. He had risen somewhat abruptly to his +feet, and his hand was upon the back of her chair.</p> + +<p>"Will it be disagreeable to you if my brother smokes +a pipe?" he asked. "I tried to have our little drawing-room +prepared for you, but the fire has not been +lit for so long that the room, I am afraid, is quite impossible."</p> + +<p>"Do let me stay here with you," she begged; "and +I hope that both of you will smoke. I am quite used +to it."</p> + +<p>John wheeled up an easy chair for her. Stephen, +stiff and upright, sat on the other side of the hearth. +He took the tobacco-jar and pipe that his brother had +brought him, and slowly filled the bowl.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 21]</span> +"With your permission, then, madam," he said, as +he struck a match.</p> + +<p>Louise smiled graciously. Some instinct prompted +her to stifle her own craving for a cigarette and keep +her little gold case hidden in her pocket. All the time +her eyes were wandering around the room. Suddenly +she rose and, moving round the table, stood once more +facing the row of gloomy-looking portraits.</p> + +<p>"So that is your grandfather," she remarked to +John, who had followed her. "Is your father not +here?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"My father's portrait was never painted."</p> + +<p>"Tell the truth, John," Stephen enjoined, rising in +his place and setting down his pipe. "Our father's +portrait is not here, madam, because he was one of +those of whom I have spoken—one of those who were +drawn into the vortex of the city, and who knew only +the shallow ways of life. Listen!"</p> + +<p>With a heavy silver candlestick in either hand, Stephen +crossed the room. He raised them high above his +head and pointed to the pictures one by one.</p> + +<p>"John Robert Strangewey, our great-grandfather," +he began. "That picture was a presentation from the +farmers of Cumberland. He, too, was a magistrate, +and held many public offices in the county.</p> + +<p>"By his side is his brother, Stephen George Strangewey. +For thirty-five years he took the chair at the +farmers' ordinary at Market Ketton on every Saturday +at one o'clock, and there was never a deserving man in +this part of the county, engaged in agricultural pursuits, +who at any time sought his aid in vain. They +always knew where he was to be found, and every Saturday, +before dinner was served, there would be some one +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 22]</span> +there to seek his aid or advice. He lived his life to his +own benefit and to the benefit of his neighbors—the +life which we are all sent here to lead.</p> + +<p>"Two generations before him you see my namesake, +Stephen Strangewey. It was he who invented the first +threshing-machine used in this county. He farmed the +land that my brother and I own to-day. He was +churchwarden at our little church, and he, too, was a +magistrate. He did his duty in a smaller way, but +zealously and honestly, among the hillmen of this district."</p> + +<p>"There are gaps in your family history," Louise +observed.</p> + +<p>"The gaps, madam," Stephen explained, "are left +by those who have abandoned their natural heritage. +We Strangeweys were hillfolk and farmers, by descent +and destiny, for more than four hundred years. Our +place is here upon the land, almost among the clouds, +and those of us who have realized it have led the lives +God meant us to lead. There have been some of our +race who have been tempted into the lowlands and the +cities. Not one of them brought honor upon our name. +Their pictures are not here. They are not worthy to +be here."</p> + +<p>Stephen set down the candlesticks and returned to his +place. Louise, with her hands clasped behind her back, +glanced toward John, who still stood by her side.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she asked him, "have none of your people +who went out into the world done well for themselves?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely one," he admitted. "My brother's words +seem a little sweeping, but they are very near the truth. +The air of the great cities seems to have poisoned every +Strangewey—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 23]</span> +"Not one," Stephen interrupted. "Colonel John +Strangewey died leading his regiment at Waterloo, an +end well enough, but reached through many years of +evil conduct and loose living."</p> + +<p>"He was a brave soldier," John put in quietly.</p> + +<p>"That is true," Stephen admitted. "His best +friends have claimed no other quality for him. +Madam," he went on, turning toward Louise, "lest my +welcome to you this evening should have seemed inhospitable, +let me tell you this. Every Strangewey who +has left our county, and trodden the downward path of +failure, has done so at the instance of one of your sex. +That is why those of us who inherit the family spirit +look askance upon all strange women. That is why no +woman is ever welcome within this house."</p> + +<p>Louise resumed her seat in the easy chair.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry," she murmured, looking down at her +slipper. "I could not help breaking down here, +could I?"</p> + +<p>"Nor could my brother fail to offer you the hospitality +of this roof," Stephen admitted. "The incident +was unfortunate but inevitable. It is a matter for regret +that we have so little to offer you in the way of +entertainment." He rose to his feet. The door had +been opened. Jennings was standing there with a +candlestick upon a massive silver salver. Behind him +was Aline. "You are doubtless fatigued by your journey, +madam," Stephen concluded.</p> + +<p>Louise made a little grimace, but she rose at once to +her feet. She understood quite well that she was being +sent to bed, and she shivered a little when she looked +at the hour—barely ten o'clock. Yet it was all in +keeping. From the doorway she looked back into the +room, in which nothing seemed to have been touched for +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 24]</span> +centuries. She stood upon the threshold to bid her +final good-night, fully conscious of the complete anachronism +of her presence there.</p> + +<p>Her smile for Stephen was respectful and full of +dignity. As she glanced toward John, however, something +flashed in her eyes and quivered at the corners +of her lips, something which escaped her control, something +which made him grip for a moment the back of the +chair against which he stood. Then, between the old +man servant, who insisted upon carrying her candle to +her room, and her maid, who walked behind, she crossed +the white stone hall and stepped slowly up the broad +flight of stairs.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 25]</span></p> + +<h2>III</h2> + +<p>Louise awoke the next morning filled with a curious +sense of buoyant expectancy. The sunshine was pouring +into the room, brightening up its most somber corners. +It lay across the quilt of her bed, and seemed to +bring out the perfume of lavender from the pillow on +which her head reposed.</p> + +<p>Aline, hearing her mistress stir, hastened at once to +the bedside.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, <i>madame</i>!"</p> + +<p>Louise sat up and looked around her, with her hands +clasped about her knees.</p> + +<p>"Tell me everything, Aline," she said. "Have you +my breakfast there? And what time is it?"</p> + +<p>"It is half-past nine, <i>madame</i>," Aline replied, "and +your breakfast is here. The old imbecile from the +kitchen has just brought it up."</p> + +<p>Louise looked approvingly at the breakfast tray, +with the home-made bread and deep-yellow butter, the +brown eggs and clear honey. The smell of the coffee +was aromatic. She breathed a little sigh of content.</p> + +<p>"How delicious everything looks!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The home-made things are well enough in their +way, <i>madame</i>," Aline agreed, "but I have never known +a household so strange and disagreeable. That M. +Jennings, who calls himself the butler—he is a person +unspeakable, a savage!"</p> + +<p>Louise's eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 26]</span> +"I don't think they are fond of women in this household, +Aline," she remarked. "Tell me, have you seen +Charles?"</p> + +<p>"Charles has gone to the nearest blacksmith's forge +to get something made for the car, <i>madame</i>," Aline replied. +"He asked me to say that he was afraid he +would not be ready to start before midday."</p> + +<p>"That does not matter," Louise declared, as she +settled down to her breakfast. "I do not care how +long it is before he is ready. I should love to spend a +month here!"</p> + +<p>Aline held up her hands. She was speechless. Her +mistress laughed at her consternation.</p> + +<p>"Well," she continued, "there is no fear of their +asking us for a month, or for an hour longer than they +can help. The elder Mr. Strangewey, it seems, has the +strongest objection to our sex. There is not a woman +servant in the house, is there?"</p> + +<p>"Not one, <i>madame</i>," Aline replied. "I have never +been in a household conducted in such a manner. It is +like the kitchen of a monastery. The terrible Jennings +is speechless. If one addresses him, he only mumbles. +The sound of my skirts, or my footstep on the stone +floor, makes him shiver. He is worse, one would imagine, +than his master."</p> + +<p>Louise ate and drank reflectively.</p> + +<p>"It is the queerest household one could possibly +stumble upon," she remarked. "The young Mr. +Strangewey—he seems different, but he falls in with +his brother's ways."</p> + +<p>Aline glanced at herself in the mirror. She was just +out of her mistress's range of vision, and she made a +little grimace at her reflection.</p> + +<p>"I met him twice this morning in the hall," she remarked. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 27]</span> +"He wished me good morning the first time. +The second time he did not speak. He did not seem to +see me."</p> + +<p>Louise finished her breakfast and strolled presently +to the window. She gave a little sigh of pleasure as +she looked out.</p> + +<p>"But, Aline," she exclaimed, "how exquisite!"</p> + +<p>The maid glanced over her shoulder and went on preparing +her mistress's clothes.</p> + +<p>"It is as <i>madame</i> finds it," she replied. "For myself, +I like the country for fête days and holidays only, +and even then I like to find plenty of people there."</p> + +<p>Louise heard nothing. She was gazing eagerly out +of the casement-window. Immediately below was a +grass-grown orchard which stretched upward, at a precipitous +angle, toward a belt of freshly plowed field; +beyond, a little chain of rocky hills, sheer overhead. +The trees were pink and white with blossom; the petals +lay about upon the ground like drifted snowflakes. +Here and there yellow jonquils were growing among the +long grass. A waft of perfume stole into the room +through the window which she had opened.</p> + +<p>"Fill my bath quickly, Aline," Louise ordered. "I +must go out. I want to see whether it is really as beautiful +as it looks."</p> + +<p>Aline dressed her mistress in silence. It was not +until she had finished lacing her shoes that she spoke +another word. Then, suddenly, she stopped short in +the act of crossing the room. Her eyes had happened +to fall upon the emblazoned genealogical record. A +little exclamation escaped her. She swung round +toward her mistress, and for once there was animation +in her face.</p> + +<p>"But, <i>madame</i>," she exclaimed, "I have remembered! +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 28]</span> +The name Strangewey—you see it there—it +was in our minds all the time that we had seen or heard +of it quite lately. Don't you remember—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" Louise interrupted. "I know it reminds +me of something, but of what?"</p> + +<p>"Yesterday morning," Aline continued, "it was you +<i>madame</i>, who read it out while you took your coffee. +You spoke of the good fortune of some farmer in the +north of England to whom a relative in Australia had +left a great fortune—hundreds and thousands of +pounds. The name was Strangewey, the same as that. +I remember it now."</p> + +<p>She pointed once more to the family tree. Louise +sat for a moment with parted lips.</p> + +<p>"You are quite right, Aline. I remember it all perfectly +now. I wonder whether it could possibly be +either of these two men!"</p> + +<p>Aline shook her head doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"It would be unbelievable, <i>madame</i>," she decided. +"Could any sane human creatures live here, with no +company but the sheep and the cows, if they had money—money +to live in the cities, to buy pleasures, to be +happy? Unbelievable, <i>madame</i>!"</p> + +<p>Louise remained standing before the window. She +was watching the blossom-laden boughs of one of the +apple trees bending and swaying in the fresh morning +breeze—watching the restless shadows which came and +went upon the grass beneath.</p> + +<p>"That is just your point of view, Aline," she murmured; +"but happiness—well, you would not understand. +They are strange men, these two. The young +one is different now, but as he grows older he will be like +his brother. He will live a very simple and honorable +life. He will be—what is it they call it?—a county +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 29]</span> +magistrate, chairman of many things, a judge at agricultural +shows. When he dies, he will be buried up in +that windy little churchyard, and people will come from +a long way off to say how good he was. My hat, +quickly, Aline! If I am not in that orchard in five +minutes I shall be miserable!"</p> + +<p>Louise found her way without difficulty across a +cobbled yard, through a postern gate set in a red-brick +wall, into the orchard. Very slowly, and with her +head turned upward toward the trees, she made her way +toward the boundary wall. Once, with a little exclamation +of pleasure, she drew down a bough of the soft, cool +blossom and pressed it against her cheek. She stopped +for a moment or two to examine the contents of a row +of chicken-coops, and at every few steps she turned +around to face the breeze which came sweeping across +the moorland from the other side of the house.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the farther end of the orchard, she came +to a gate, against which she rested for a moment, leaning +her arms upon the topmost bar. Before her was +the little belt of plowed earth, the fresh, pungent odor +of which was a new thing to her; a little way to the +right, the rolling moorland, starred with clumps of +gorse; in front, across the field on the other side of +the gray stone wall, the rock-strewn hills. The sky—unusually +blue it seemed to her, and dotted all over +with little masses of fleecy, white clouds—seemed somehow +lower and nearer; or was she, perhaps higher up?</p> + +<p>She lingered there, absolutely bewildered by the rapid +growth in her brain and senses of what surely must be +some newly kindled faculty of appreciation. There +was a beauty in the world which she had not felt before.</p> + +<p>She turned her head almost lazily at the sound of a +man's voice. A team of horses, straining at a plow, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 30]</span> +were coming round the bend of the field, and by their +side, talking to the laborer who guided them, was John +Strangewey. She watched him as he came into sight +up the steep rise. Against the empty background, he +seemed to lose nothing of the size and strength that had +impressed her on the previous night. He was bareheaded, +and she noticed for the first time that his +closely cropped fair hair was inclined to curl a little +near the ears.</p> + +<p>He walked in step with the plowman by his side, but +without any of the laborer's mechanical plod—with a +spring in his footsteps, indeed, as if his life and +thoughts were full of joyous things. He was wearing +black-and-white tweed clothes, a little shabby but well-fitting; +breeches and gaiters; thick boots, plentifully +caked now with mud. He was pointing with his stick +along the furrow, so absorbed in the instructions he was +giving that he was almost opposite the gate before he +was aware of her presence. He promptly abandoned +his task and approached her.</p> + +<p>"Good morning!" he called out.</p> + +<p>She waved her hand.</p> + +<p>"Good morning!"</p> + +<p>"You have slept well?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Better, I think, than ever before in my life," she +answered. "Differently, at any rate. And such an +awakening!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her, a little puzzled. The glow upon +her face and the sunlight upon her brown hair kept him +silent. He was content to look at her and wonder.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she demanded impetuously, "is this a +little corner of fairy-land that you have found? Does +the sun always shine like this? Does the earth always +smell as sweetly, and are your trees always in blossom? +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 31]</span> +Does your wind always taste as if God had breathed the +elixir of life into it?"</p> + +<p>He turned around to follow the sweep of her eyes. +Something of the same glow seemed to rest for a moment +upon his face.</p> + +<p>"It is good," he said, "to find what you love so much +appreciated by some one else."</p> + +<p>They stood together in a silence almost curiously +protracted. Then the plowman passed again with his +team of horses, and John called out some instructions +to him. She followed him down to earth.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Mr. Strangewey," she inquired, "where +are your farm-buildings?"</p> + +<p>"Come and I will show you," he answered, opening +the gate to let her through. "Keep close to the hedge +until we come to the end of the plow; and then—but +no, I won't anticipate. This way!"</p> + +<p>She walked by his side, conscious every now and then +of his frankly admiring eyes as he looked down at her. +She herself felt all the joy of a woman of the world imbibing +a new experience. She did not even glance +toward the dismantled motor in the barn which they +passed.</p> + +<p>"I am glad," he remarked presently, "that you look +upon us more charitably than your maid."</p> + +<p>"Aline is a good girl," Louise said, smiling, "but +hot-water taps and electric lights are more to her than +sunshine and hills. Do you know," she went on, "I +feel like a child being led through an undiscovered country, +a land of real adventures. Which way are we +going, and what are we going to see? Tell me, +please!"</p> + +<p>"Wait," he begged. "It is just a queer little corner +among the hills, that is all."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 32]</span> +They reached the end of the plowed field, and, passing +through a gate, turned abruptly to the left and began +to climb a narrow path which bordered the boundary +wall, and which became steeper every moment. As +they ascended, the orchard and the long, low house on +the other side seemed to lie almost at their feet. The +road and the open moorland beyond, stretching to +the encircling hills, came more clearly into sight with +every backward glance. Louise paused at last, breathless.</p> + +<p>"I must sit down," she insisted. "It is too beautiful +to hurry over."</p> + +<p>"It is only a few steps farther," he told her, holding +out his hand; "just to where the path winds its way +round the hill there. But perhaps you are tired?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," she assured him, "I never felt so +vigorous in my life. All the exercise I take, as a rule, +is in Kensington Gardens; and look!" She pointed +downward to her absurd little shoes, and held out her +hand, "You will have to help me," she pleaded.</p> + +<p>The last few steps were, indeed, almost precipitous. +Fragments of rock, protruding through the grass and +bushes, served as steps. John moved on a little ahead +and pulled her easily up. Even the slight tightening +of his fingers seemed to raise her from her feet. She +looked at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"How strong you are!"</p> + +<p>"A matter of weight," he answered, smiling. "You +are like a feather. You walk as lightly as the fairies +who come out on midsummer night's eve and dance in +circles around the gorse-bushes there."</p> + +<p>"Is it the home of the fairies you are taking me to?" +she asked. "If you have discovered that, no wonder +you find us ordinary women outside your lives!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 33]</span> +He laughed.</p> + +<p>"There are no fairies where we are going," he assured +her.</p> + +<p>They were on a rough-made road now, which turned +abruptly to the right a few yards ahead, skirting the +side of a deep gorge. They took a few steps further, +and Louise stopped short with a cry of wonder.</p> + +<p>Around the abrupt corner an entirely new perspective +was revealed—a little hamlet, built on a shoulder +of the mountains; and on the right, below a steep descent, +a wide and sunny valley. It was like a tiny +world of its own, hidden in the bosom of the hills. +There was a long line of farm-buildings, built of gray +stone and roofed with red tiles; there were fifteen or +twenty stacks; a quaint, white-washed house of considerable +size, almost covered on the southward side +with creepers; a row of cottages, and a gray-walled enclosure—stretching +with its white tombstones to the +very brink of the descent—in the midst of which was +an ancient church, in ruins at the further end, partly +rebuilt with the stones of the hillside.</p> + +<p>Louise looked around her, silent with wonder. A +couple of sheep-dogs had rushed out from the farmhouse +and were fawning around her companion. In +the background a gray-bearded shepherd, with Scottish +plaid thrown over his shoulder, raised his hat.</p> + +<p>"It isn't real, is it?" she asked, clinging for a moment +to John Strangewey's arm.</p> + +<p>He patted one of the dogs and smiled down at her.</p> + +<p>"Why not? William Elwick there is a very real +shepherd, I can assure you. He has sat on these hills +for the last sixty-eight years."</p> + +<p>She looked at the old man almost with awe.</p> + +<p>"It is like the Bible!" she murmured. "Fancy the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 34]</span> +sunrises he must have seen, and the sunsets! The coming +and the fading of the stars, the spring days, the +music of the winds in these hollow places, booming to +him in the night-time! I want to talk to him. +May I?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head. The old man was already +shambling off.</p> + +<p>"Better not," he advised. "You would be disappointed, +for William has the family weakness—he cannot +bear the sight of a woman. You see, he is pretending +now that there is something wrong with the hill +flock. You asked where the land was that we tilled. +Now look down. Hold my arm if you feel giddy."</p> + +<p>She followed the wave of his ash stick. The valley +sheer below them, and the lower hills, on both sides, +were parceled out into fields, enclosed within stone walls, +reminding her, from the height at which they stood, of +nothing so much as the quilt upon her bed.</p> + +<p>"That's where all our pasture is," he told her, "and +our arable land. We grow a great deal of corn in the +dip there. All the rest of the hillside, and the moorlands, +of course, are fit for nothing but grazing; but +there are eleven hundred acres down there from which +we can raise almost anything we choose."</p> + +<p>Her eyes swept this strange tract of country backward +and forward. She saw the men like specks in the +fields, the cows grazing in the pasture like toy animals. +Then she turned and looked at the neat row of stacks +and the square of farm-buildings.</p> + +<p>"I am trying hard to realize that you are a farmer +and that this is your life," she said.</p> + +<p>He swung open the wooden gate of the churchyard, +by which they were standing. There was a row of +graves on either side of the prim path.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 35]</span> +"Suppose," he suggested, "you tell me about yourself +now—about your own life."</p> + +<p>The hills parted suddenly as she stood there looking +southward. Through the chasm she seemed to see very +clearly the things beyond. Her own life, her own +world, spread itself out—a world of easy triumphs, of +throbbing emotions always swiftly ministered to, always +leaving the same dull sensation of discontent; a +world in which the pathways were broad and smooth, +but in which the end seemed always the same; a world +of receding beauties and mocking desires. The faces of +her friends were there—men and women, brilliant, her +intellectual compeers, a little tired, offering always the +same gifts, the same homage.</p> + +<p>"My life, and the world in which I live, seem far +away just now," she said quietly. "I think that it is +doing me good to have a rest from them. Go on talking +to me about yourself, please."</p> + +<p>He smiled. He was just a little disappointed.</p> + +<p>"We shall very soon reach the end of all that I have +to tell you," he remarked. "Still, if there is anything +you would like to know—"</p> + +<p>"Who were these men and women who have lived and +died here?" she interrupted, with a little wave of her +hand toward the graves.</p> + +<p>"All our own people," he told her; "laborers, shepherds, +tenant-farmers, domestic servants. Our clergyman +comes from the village on the other side of that hill. +He rides here every Sunday on a pony which we have to +provide for him."</p> + +<p>She studied the names upon the tombstones, spelling +them out slowly.</p> + +<p>"The married people," he went on, "are buried on +the south side; the single ones and children are nearer +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 36]</span> +the wall. Tell me," he asked, after a moment's hesitation, +"are you married or single?"</p> + +<p>She gave a little start. The abruptness of the question, +the keen, steadfast gaze of his compelling eyes, +seemed for a moment to paralyze both her nerves and +her voice. Again the hills rolled open, but this time it +was her own life only that she saw, her own life, and +one man's face which she seemed to see looking at her +from some immeasurable distance, waiting, yet drawing +her closer toward him, closer and closer till their hands +met.</p> + +<p>She was terrified at this unexpected tumult of emotion. +It was as if some one had suddenly drawn away +one of the stones from the foundation of her life. She +found herself repeating the words on the tombstone +facing her:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"And of Elizabeth, for sixty-one years the faithful wife +and helpmate of Ezra Cummings, mother of his children, and +his partner in the life everlasting."</p></div> + +<p>Her knees began to shake. There was a momentary +darkness before her eyes. She felt for the tombstone +and sat down.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 37]</span></p> + +<h2>IV</h2> + +<p>The churchyard gate was opened and closed noisily. +They both glanced up. Stephen Strangewey was coming +slowly toward them along the flinty path. Louise, +suddenly herself again, rose briskly to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Here comes your brother," she said. "I wish he +wouldn't glower at me so! I really am not such a terrible +person as he seems to think."</p> + +<p>John muttered a word or two of polite but unconvincing +protest. They stood together awaiting his approach. +Stephen had apparently lost none of his +dourness of the previous night. He was dressed in +gray homespun, with knickerbockers and stockings of +great thickness. He wore a flannel shirt and collar +and a black wisp of a tie. Underneath his battered +felt hat his weather-beaten face seemed longer and +grimmer than ever, his mouth more uncompromising. +As he looked toward Louise, there was no mistaking the +slow dislike in his steely eyes.</p> + +<p>"Your chauffeur, madam, has just returned," he +announced. "He sent word that he will be ready to +start at one o'clock."</p> + +<p>Louise, inspired to battle by the almost provocative +hostility of her elder host, smiled sweetly upon him.</p> + +<p>"You can't imagine how sorry I am to hear it," she +said. "I don't know when, in the whole course of my +life, I have met with such a delightful adventure or +spent such a perfect morning!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 38]</span> +Stephen looked at her with level disapproving eyes—at +her slender form in its perfectly fitting tailored +gown; at her patent shoes, so obviously unsuitable for +her surroundings, and at the faint vision of silk stockings.</p> + +<p>"If I might say so without appearing inhospitable," +he remarked, with faint sarcasm, "this would seem to +be the fitting moment for your departure. A closer examination +of our rough life up here might alter your +views."</p> + +<p>She turned toward John, and caught the deprecating +glance which flashed from him to Stephen.</p> + +<p>"Your brother is making fun of me," she declared. +"He looks at me and judges me just as I believe he +would judge most people—sternly and without mercy. +After all, you know, even though I am a daughter of the +cities, there is another point of view—ours. Can you +not believe that the call which prompts men and women +to do the things in life which are really worth while is +heard as often amid the hubbub of the city as in the +solitude of these austere hills?"</p> + +<p>"The question is a bootless one," Stephen answered +firmly. "The city calls to its own, as the country +holds its children, and both do best in their own environment. +Like to like, and each bird to his own nest. +You would be as much out of place here with us, madam, +as my brother and I on the pavements of your city."</p> + +<p>"You may be right," she admitted, "yet you dismiss +one of the greatest questions in life with a single +turn of your tongue. It is given to no one to be infallible. +It is even possible that you may be wrong."</p> + +<p>"It is possible," Stephen agreed grimly.</p> + +<p>"The things in life which are worth while," she continued, +looking down into the valley, "are common to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 39]</span> +all. They do not consist of one thing for one man, +another for another. To whom comes the greater +share of them—the dweller in the city, or you in your +primitive and patriarchal life? You rest your brains, +you make the seasons feed you, you work enough to +keep your muscles firm, and nature does the rest. She +brings the food to your doors, and when your harvest +is over your work is done. There are possibilities of +rust here, Mr. Strangewey!"</p> + +<p>Stephen's smile was almost disdainful.</p> + +<p>"Madam," he declared, "you have six or seven million +people in London. How many of them live by +really creative and honorable work? How many are +there of polyglot race—Hebrews, Germans, foreigners +of every type, preying upon one another, making false +incomes which exist only on paper, living in false luxury, +tasting false joys? The sign-post of our lives +must be our personal inclinations. Our inclinations—my +brother's inclinations and mine—lead us, as they +have led my people for hundreds of years, to seek the +cleaner things in life and the simpler forms of happiness. +If I do not have the pleasure, madam, of seeing +you again, permit me to wish you farewell."</p> + +<p>He turned and walked away. Louise watched him +with very real interest.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she said to John, "there is something +which I can only describe as biblical about your +brother, something a little like the prophets of the Old +Testament, in the way he sees only one issue and clings +to it. Are you, too, of his way of thinking?"</p> + +<p>"Up to a certain point, I believe I am," he confessed. +"I do not think I could ever have lived in the city. I +do not think I could ever have been happy in any of the +professions."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 40]</span> +"Certainly I could not imagine you as a stock-broker +or a lawyer. I feel it hard to realize you in any of the +ordinary walks of life. Still, you know, the greatest +question of all remains unanswered. Are you content +just to live and flourish and die? Are there no compelling +obligations with which one is born? Do you +never feel cramped—in your mind, I mean?—feel +that you want to push your way through the clouds +into some other life?"</p> + +<p>"I feel nearer the clouds here," he answered simply.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you are sure of content—that is to say, +if you can keep free from doubts. Still, there is the +fighting instinct, you know; the craving for action. +Don't you feel that sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he admitted.</p> + +<p>They were leaving the churchyard now. She paused +abruptly, pointing to a single grave in a part of the +churchyard which seemed detached from the rest.</p> + +<p>"Whose grave is that?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>"It is the grave of a young girl," he told her quietly.</p> + +<p>"But why is she buried so far off, and all alone?" +Louise persisted.</p> + +<p>"She was the daughter of one of our shepherds," he +replied. "She went into service at Carlisle, and +returned here with a child. They are both buried +there."</p> + +<p>"Because of that her grave is apart from the +others?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered. "It is very seldom, I am glad +to say, that anything of the sort happens among us."</p> + +<p>For the second time that morning Louise was conscious +of an unexpected upheaval of emotion. She felt +that the sunshine had gone, that the whole sweetness of +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 41]</span> +the place had suddenly passed away. The charm of +its simple austerity had perished.</p> + +<p>"And I thought I had found paradise!" she cried.</p> + +<p>She moved quickly from John Strangewey's side. +Before he could realize her intention, she had stepped +over the low dividing wall and was on her knees by the +side of the plain, neglected grave. She tore out the +spray of apple-blossom which she had thrust into the +bosom of her gown, and placed it reverently at the head +of the little mound. For a moment her eyes drooped +and her lips moved—she herself scarcely knew whether +it was in prayer. Then she turned and came slowly +back to her companion.</p> + +<p>Something had gone, too, from his charm. She saw +in him now nothing but the coming dourness of his +brother. Her heart was still heavy. She shivered a +little.</p> + +<p>"Come," she said, "let us go back!"</p> + +<p>They commenced the steep descent in silence. Every +now and then John held his companion by the arm to +steady her somewhat uncertain footsteps. It was he +at last who spoke.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me, please, what is the matter with +you, and why you placed that sprig of apple-blossom +where you did?"</p> + +<p>His tone woke her from her lethargy. She was a +little surprised at its poignant, almost challenging note.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," she replied. "I placed it there as a +woman's protest against the injustice of that isolation."</p> + +<p>"I deny that it is unjust."</p> + +<p>She turned around and waved her hand toward the +little gray building.</p> + +<p>"The Savior to whom your church is dedicated +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 42]</span> +thought otherwise," she reminded him. "Do you play +at being lords paramount here over the souls and bodies +of your serfs?"</p> + +<p>"You judge without knowledge of the facts," he assured +her calmly. "The girl could have lived here +happily and been married to a respectable young man. +She chose, instead, a wandering life. She chose, further, +to make it a disreputable one. She broke her +mother's heart and soured her father's latter years. +She brought into the world a nameless child."</p> + +<p>Louise's footsteps slackened.</p> + +<p>"You men," she sighed, "are all alike! You judge +only by what happens. You never look inside. That +is why your justice is so different from a woman's. All +that you have told me is very pitiful, but there is another +view of the case which you should consider. Let +us sit down upon this boulder for a few moments. +There is something that I should like to say to you before +I go."</p> + +<p>They sat upon a ledge of rock. Below them was the +house, with its walled garden and the blossom-laden +orchard. Beyond stretched the moorland, brilliant +with patches of yellow gorse, and the hills, blue and +melting in the morning sunlight.</p> + +<p>"Don't you men sometimes realize," she continued +earnestly, "the many, many guises in which temptation +may come to a woman, especially to the young girl +so far from home? She may be very lonely, and she +may care; and if she cares, it is so hard to refuse the +man she loves. The very sweetness, the very generosity +of a woman's nature prompts her to give, give, give +all the time. There are other women, similarly circumstanced, +who think only of themselves, of their own +safety and happiness, and they escape the danger; but +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 43]</span> +are they to be praised and respected, while she that +yields is condemned and cast out? I feel that you are +not going to agree with me, and I do not wish to argue +with you; but what I so passionately object to is the +sweeping judgment you make—the sheep on one side +and the goats on the other. That is how man judges; +God looks further. Every case is different. The law +by which one should be judged may be poor justice for +another."</p> + +<p>She glanced at him almost appealingly, but there was +no sign of yielding in his face.</p> + +<p>"Laws," he reminded her, "are made for the benefit +of the whole human race. Sometimes an individual +may suffer for the benefit of others. That is inevitable."</p> + +<p>"And so let the subject pass," she concluded, "but +it saddens me to think that one of the great sorrows of +the world should be there like a monument to spoil the +wonder of this morning. Now I am going to ask you a +question. Are you the John Strangewey who has recently +had a fortune left to him?"</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"You read about it in the newspapers, I suppose," +he said. "Part of the story isn't true. It was stated +that I had never seen my Australian uncle, but as a +matter of fact he has been over here three or four times. +It was he who paid for my education at Harrow and +Oxford."</p> + +<p>"What did your brother say to that?"</p> + +<p>"He opposed it," John confessed, "and he hated my +uncle. He detests the thought of any one of us going +out of sight of our own hills. My uncle had the wander-fever."</p> + +<p>"And you?" she asked suddenly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 44]</span> +"I have none of it," he asserted.</p> + +<p>A very faint smile played about her lips.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not before," she murmured; "but now?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean because I have inherited the money?"</p> + +<p>She leaned a little toward him. Her smile now was +more evident, and there was something in her eyes which +was almost like a challenge.</p> + +<p>"Naturally!"</p> + +<p>"What difference does my money make?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Don't you realize the increase of your power as a +human being?" she replied. "Don't you realize the +larger possibilities of the life that is open to you? You +can move, if you will, in the big world. You can take +your place in any society you choose, meet interesting +people who have done things, learn everything that is +new, do everything that is worth doing in life. You can +travel to the remote countries of the globe. You can +become a politician, a philanthropist, or a sportsman. +You can follow your tastes wherever they lead you, +and—perhaps this is the most important thing of all—you +can do everything upon a splendid scale."</p> + +<p>He smiled down at her.</p> + +<p>"That all sounds very nice," he admitted, "but supposing +that I have no taste in any of the directions you +have mentioned? Supposing my life here satisfies me? +Supposing I find all that I expect to find in life here on +my own land, among my own hills? What then?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him with a curiosity which was almost +passionate. Her lips were parted, her senses strained.</p> + +<p>"It is not possible," she exclaimed, "that you can +mean it!"</p> + +<p>"But why not?" he protested. "I have not the +tortuous brain of the modern politician. I hate cities—the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 45]</span> +smell of them, the atmosphere of them, the life +in them. The desire for travel is only half born in me. +That may come—I cannot tell. I love the daily work +here; I am fond of horses and dogs. I know every yard +of land we own, and I know what it will produce. It +interests me to try experiments—new crops, a new distribution +of crops, new machinery sometimes, new +methods of fertilizing. I love to watch the seasons +come and reign and pass. I love to feel the wind and +the sun, and even the rain. All these things have become +a sort of appetite to me. I am afraid," he wound +up a little lamely, "that this is all very badly expressed, +but the whole truth of it is, you see, that I am +a man of simple and inherited tastes. I feel that my +life is here, and I live it here and I love it. Why should +I go out like a <i>Don Quixote</i> and search for vague adventures?"</p> + +<p>"Because you are a man!" she answered swiftly. +"You have a brain and a soul too big for your life here. +You eat and drink, and physically you flourish, but part +of you sleeps because it is shut away from the world +of real things. Don't you sometimes feel it in your +very heart that life, as we were meant to live it, can only +be lived among your fellow men?"</p> + +<p>He looked upward, over his shoulder, at the little +cluster of farm-buildings and cottages, and the gray +stone church.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," he declared simply, "that the man +who tries to live more than one life fails in both. There +is a little cycle of life here, among our thirty or forty +souls, which revolves around my brother and myself. +You would think it stupid and humdrum, because the +people are peasants; but I am not sure that you are +right. The elementary things, you know, are the greatest, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 46]</span> +and those we have. Our young people fall in love +and marry. The joy of birth comes to our mothers, +and the tragedy of death looms over us all. Some go +out into the world, some choose to remain here. A +passer-by may glance upward from the road at our +little hamlet, and wonder what can ever happen in such +an out-of-the-way corner. I think the answer is just +what I have told you. Love and marriage, birth and +death happen. These things make life."</p> + +<p>Her curiosity now had become merged in an immense +interest. She laid her fingers lightly upon his +arm.</p> + +<p>"You speak for your people," she said. "That is +well. I can understand their simple lives being as absorbing +to them as ours are to us. I can imagine how, +here among your hills, you can watch as a spectator a +cycle of life which contains, as you have pointed out, +every element of tragedy and happiness. But you +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I am one of them," he answered, "a necessary part +of them."</p> + +<p>"How you deceive yourself! I am sure you are honest, +I am sure you believe what you say, but will you remember +what I am going to tell you? The time will +come, before very long, when you will feel doubts."</p> + +<p>"Doubts about what?"</p> + +<p>She smiled enigmatically.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they will assert themselves," she assured him, +"and you will recognize them when they come. Something +will whisper to you in your heart that after all +you are not of the same clay as these simple folk—that +there is a different mission in the world for a man like +you than to play the part of feudal lord over a few +peasants. Sooner or later you will come out into the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 47]</span> +world; and the sooner the better, I think, Mr. John +Strangewey, or you will grow like your brother here +among your granite hills."</p> + +<p>He moved a little uneasily. All the time she was +watching him. It seemed to her that she could read the +thoughts which were stirring in his brain.</p> + +<p>"You would like to say, wouldn't you," she went on, +"that your brother's is a useful and an upright life? +So it may be, but it is not wide enough or great enough. +No one should be content with the things which he can +reach. He should climb a little higher, and pluck the +riper fruit. Some day you will feel the desire to climb. +Something will come to you—in the night, perhaps, or +on the bosom of that wind you love so much. It may +be a call of music, or it may be a more martial note. +Promise me, will you, that when you feel the impulse +you won't use all that obstinate will-power of yours to +crush it? You will destroy the best part of yourself, if +you do. You will give it a chance? Promise!"</p> + +<p>She held out her hand with a little impulsive gesture. +He took it in his own, and held it steadfastly.</p> + +<p>"I will remember," he promised.</p> + +<p>Along the narrow streak of road, from the southward, +they both watched the rapid approach of a large +motor-car. There were two servants upon the front +seat and one passenger—a man—inside. It swung +into the level stretch beneath them, a fantasy of gray +and silver in the reflected sunshine.</p> + +<p>Louise had been leaning forward, her head supported +upon her hands. As the car slackened speed, she rose +very slowly to her feet.</p> + +<p>"The chariot of deliverance!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"It is the Prince of Seyre," John remarked, gazing +down with a slight frown upon his forehead.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 48]</span> +She nodded. They had started the descent, and she +was walking in very leisurely fashion.</p> + +<p>"The prince is a great friend of mine," she said. "I +had promised to spend last night, or, at any rate, some +portion of the evening, at Raynham Castle on my way +to London."</p> + +<p>He summoned up courage to ask her the question +which had been on his lips more than once.</p> + +<p>"As your stay with us is so nearly over, won't you +abandon your incognito?"</p> + +<p>"In the absence of your brother," she answered, "I +will risk it. My name is Louise Maurel."</p> + +<p>"Louise Maurel, the actress?" he repeated wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"I am she," Louise confessed. "Would your +brother," she added, with a little grimace, "feel that he +had given me a night's lodging under false pretense?"</p> + +<p>John made no immediate reply. The world had +turned topsyturvy with him. Louise Maurel, and a +great friend of the Prince of Seyre! He walked on +mechanically until she turned and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he declared bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she asked, a little startled at his candor.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, first of all, that you are a friend of the +Prince of Seyre."</p> + +<p>"And again why?"</p> + +<p>"Because of his reputation in these parts."</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am not a scandalmonger," John replied dryly. +"I speak only of what I know. His estates near here +are systematically neglected. He is the worst landlord +in the country, and the most unscrupulous. His +tenants, both here and in Westmoreland, have to work +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 49]</span> +themselves to death to provide him with the means of +living a disreputable life."</p> + +<p>"Are you not forgetting that the Prince of Seyre is +a friend of mine?" she asked stiffly.</p> + +<p>"I forget nothing," he answered. "You see, up here +we have not learned the art of evading the truth."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"So much for the Prince of Seyre, then. And now, +why your dislike of my profession?"</p> + +<p>"That is another matter," he confessed. "You +come from a world of which I know nothing. All I can +say is that I would rather think of you—as something +different."</p> + +<p>She laughed at his somber face and patted his arm +lightly.</p> + +<p>"Big man of the hills," she said, "when you come +down from your frozen heights to look for the flowers, +I shall try to make you see things differently!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 50]</span></p> + +<h2>V</h2> + +<p>The prince, who had just been joined by Stephen, +had descended from his car and was waiting in the road +when Louise and John approached. He came a few +paces forward to meet her, and held out both his hands.</p> + +<p>"My dear wandering guest!" he exclaimed. "So I +have found you at last! What shall I say to this mishap +which has robbed me of so many hours of your +visit? I am too happy, though, to know that you have +suffered no personal inconvenience."</p> + +<p>"Thanks to the great kindness of my hosts," Louise +replied, smiling a little mockingly at Stephen, "I have +been completely spoiled here, prince, and I can only +regard my accident as a delightful little interlude."</p> + +<p>The prince bowed, and half held out his hand to +Stephen. The latter, however appeared not to notice +the movement.</p> + +<p>"I shall always remember with gratitude," the prince +declared, "the kindness of Mr. Strangewey and his +brother to my lost guest. I fear," he went on regretfully, +"that I do not seem very neighborly. I am not +often at Raynham Castle, except in August and September. +I find your northern air somewhat too severe for +me."</p> + +<p>"Your tenants, prince," Stephen remarked calmly, +"would like to see a little more of you."</p> + +<p>The prince shrugged his shoulders. He was a man +of medium height, slender, with a long and almost colorless +face. He carried himself with the good-humored +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 51]</span> +air of the man of the world among strange surroundings +toward which he desired to express his toleration. His +clothes and voice were perfectly English, although the +latter was unusually slow and soft. At first sight there +was no apparent evidence of his foreign birth. He +turned once more toward Stephen.</p> + +<p>"My agent, Mr. Simon, is a very excellent man, and +I have every confidence in his discretion. My tenants +here could scarcely feel toward me as they might have +done if Raynham had come into my possession in the +direct line. However, this year, as it happens, I have +made up my mind to spend more time here. My keepers +tell me that after four bad seasons the prospects +for grouse on my higher moors are excellent. I shall +hope," he added, turning to John, "to have you join +us often. I must confess that the only time I had ever +heard your name, before the newspapers advertised +your recent good fortune, was in connection with shooting. +They tell me that you are the best shot and the +finest horseman in Cumberland."</p> + +<p>"You were probably told that at Raynham," John +remarked. "Our people always exaggerate the prowess +of their own folk, and my brother and I are natives."</p> + +<p>"I trust," the prince concluded, "that you will give +me the opportunity of judging for myself. And now, +dear lady," he went on, turning to Louise, "I am loath +to lose another minute of my promised visit. I have +taken the liberty of telling your maid to place your +wraps in my car. We can reach Raynham in time for a +late lunch. Your own car can follow us and bring your +maid."</p> + +<p>For a moment Louise did not reply. The prince had +moved a few steps away, to give some directions to his +chauffeur, and he saw nothing of the strange look of +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 52]</span> +indecision that had suddenly crept into her face. Her +eyebrows were contracted. She had turned, and was +gazing up the precipitous strip of moorland toward the +gray-walled church. Then she glanced at John +Strangewey, and her eyes seemed filled with the questioning +of a child. It was as if she had abandoned the +rôle of mentor, as if she herself were seeking for guidance +or help.</p> + +<p>John's unspoken response was prompt and unmistakable; +and she smiled ever so slightly. She no longer +thought him narrow and prejudiced, an unfair judge +of things beyond his comprehension. He had helped +her in a moment of trial. An idea had flashed between +them, and she acted upon it with amazing promptitude.</p> + +<p>"Alas, prince," she sighed, as he turned back toward +them, "I am so sorry, but I fear that this little accident +must change all my plans! As you know, mine was to +have been only a brief stay at Raynham, and I fear now +that even that is impossible."</p> + +<p>The prince drew a step nearer. Something of the +calm suavity had suddenly gone from his manner. +When he spoke, his measured words were full of appeal.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear friend," he begged, "you will not rob +me altogether of this visit, to which I have looked +forward so eagerly? It was to receive you for a few +hours that I came from Paris and opened Raynham +Castle. You yourself shall decide the length of your +stay, and a special train shall take you back to London +the moment you give the word. In that way you will +both save time and spare me—one of the greatest disappointments +of my life!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head, slowly and very decisively.</p> + +<p>"You cannot imagine how sorry I am, prince," she +said, "but as it is I must take a special train from Kendal, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 53]</span> +if there is not one starting soon after I reach the +station. I wish to reach London either this evening or +very early in the morning."</p> + +<p>The prince was holding himself in restraint with a +visible effort. His eyes were fixed upon Louise's face, +as if trying to read her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Is the necessity so urgent?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Judge for yourself," she replied. "Henri Graillot +is there, waiting for me. You know how impatient he +is, and all London is clamoring for his play. Night to +him is just the same as day. I shall telegraph from +Kendal the hour of my arrival."</p> + +<p>The prince sighed.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said quietly, "that I am the most unfortunate +man in the world! At least, then, you will +permit me to drive you to Kendal? I gather from your +chauffeur that your car, although temporarily repaired, +is not altogether reliable."</p> + +<p>She answered him only after a slight hesitation. For +some reason or other, his proposition did not seem +wholly welcome.</p> + +<p>"That will be very kind of you," she assented.</p> + +<p>"If we start at once," the prince suggested, "we +shall catch the Scotch mail."</p> + +<p>"You will surely lunch first—and you, prince?" +John begged.</p> + +<p>She laid her hand upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"My friend, no," she replied. "I am feverishly +anxious to get back to London. Walk with me to the +car. I will wave my adieus to Peak Hall when we are +up among the hills."</p> + +<p>She drew him on a few paces ahead.</p> + +<p>"I am going back to London," she continued, lowering +her voice a little, "with some very strange impressions +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 54]</span> +and some very pleasant memories. I feel that +your life here is, in its way, very beautiful, and yet the +contemplation of your future fills me with an immense +curiosity. I have not talked to you for very long, Mr. +Strangewey, and you may not be quite the sort of person +I think you are, but I am seldom mistaken. I am +an artist, you see, and we have perceptions. I think +that even here the time will come when the great unrest +will seize you, too, in its toils. Though the color may +not fade from your hills, and though the apple-blossom +may still glorify your orchard, and your flowers bloom +and smell as sweetly, and your winds bring you the +same music, I think that the time will come when the +note in you which answers to these things, and which +gives you contentment, will fail to respond. Then I +think—I hope, perhaps—that we may meet."</p> + +<p>She spoke very softly, almost under her breath, and +when she had finished there seemed everywhere a strange +emptiness of sound. The panting of the engine from +the motor-car, Stephen's measured words as he walked +with his uncongenial companion, seemed to come to John +from some other world.</p> + +<p>His voice, when he spoke, sounded a little harsh. +Although he was denying it fiercely to himself, he was +filled with a dim, harrowing consciousness that the +struggle had already begun. Notwithstanding the unrealized +joy of these few hours, his last words to Louise +were almost words of anger; his last look from beneath +his level, close-drawn eyebrows was almost militant.</p> + +<p>"I hope," he declared, "that what you have said may +not be true. I hope fervently that the time may never +come when I shall feel that I need anything more in life +than I can find in the home I love, in the work which is +second nature to me, in my books and my sports!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 55]</span> +The prince, escaping gracefully from a companion +who remained adamant to all his advances, had +maneuvered his way to their side. The last few steps +were taken together. In a few moments they were in +the car and ready to start. Stephen, with a stiff little +bow, had already departed. Louise leaned out from her +place with outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>"And now good-by, dear Mr. Strangewey! Your +brother would not let me make my little speech to him, +so you must accept the whole of my thanks. And," +she went on, the corners of her mouth twitching a little, +although her face remained perfectly grave, "if the +time should come when the need of reinvestments, or +of some new machinery for your farm, brings you to +London, will you promise that you will come and see +me?"</p> + +<p>"I will promise that with much pleasure," John answered.</p> + +<p>She leaned back and the prince took her place, holding +out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey, although your luck has been better +than mine, and you have robbed me of a visit to +which I had looked forward for months, I bear you no +ill-will. I trust that you will do me the honor of shooting +with me before long. My head keeper arranges for +the local guns, and I shall see that he sends you a list of +the days on which we shall shoot. May I beg that you +will select the most convenient to yourself? If you +have no car here, it will give me additional pleasure to +welcome you at Raynham as my guest."</p> + +<p>John, struggling against an instinctive dislike of +which, for many reasons, he was a little ashamed, murmured +a few incoherent words. The prince leaned back +and the car glided away, followed, a few minutes later, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 56]</span> +by Louise's own landaulet, with Aline in solitary state +inside.</p> + +<p>John watched the little procession until it finally disappeared +from sight; then he turned on his heel and +went into the house. Stephen, who had just filled a +pipe, was smoking furiously in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Have they gone?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>John nodded.</p> + +<p>"They are racing into Kendal to catch the Scotchman +for London."</p> + +<p>"The sooner she gets there, the better," Stephen +growled.</p> + +<p>John raised his head. The light of battle flashed for +a moment in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"She came here unbidden," he said, "and we did no +more than our bounden duty in entertaining her. For +the rest, what is there that you can say against her? +Women there must be in the world. Why do you judge +those who come your way so harshly?"</p> + +<p>Stephen withdrew the pipe from his mouth and dealt +the black oak table in front of him a blow with his great +fist. Even John himself was struck with the sudden +likeness of his brother's face to the granite rocks which +were piled around their home.</p> + +<p>"I'll answer your question, John," he said. "I'll +tell you the truth as I see it and as I know it. Women +there must be to breed men's sons, to care for their +households; even, I grant you, to be their companions +and to lighten the dark days when sorrow comes. But +she isn't that sort. She is as far removed from them as +our mountain road is from the scented thoroughfares +of Bond Street or the Rue de la Paix, where she might +take her daily exercise. I'll tell you about her, John. +She is one of those who have sown the hatred of women +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 57]</span> +in my heart. Do you know what I call them, John? +I call them witch-women. There's something of the +devil in their blood. They call themselves artists. +They have the gift of turning the heads and spoiling the +lives of sober, well-living men, till they make them dance +to their bidding along the ways of shame, and turn their +useful lives into the dotage of a love-sick boy. They +aren't child-bearing women, that sort! They don't +want to take their proper place in your household by +your side, breed sons and daughters for you, sink their +own lives in the greater duties of motherhood. There's +generally a drop of devilish foreign blood in their veins, +as she has. Our grandmother had it. You know the +result. The empty frame in the lumber-room will tell +you."</p> + +<p>John, half angry, half staggered by his brother's +vehemence, was for the moment a little confused.</p> + +<p>"There may be women like that, Stephen," he confessed. +"I am not denying the truth of much that you +say. But what right have you to class her among +them? What do you know of her?"</p> + +<p>"It's written in her face," Stephen answered fiercely. +"Women like her breathe it from their lips when they +speak, just as it shines out of their eyes when they look +at you. An actress, and a friend of the Prince of +Seyre! A woman who thought it worth her while, during +her few hours' stay here—" John had suddenly +straightened himself. Stephen clenched his teeth. +"Curse it, that's enough!" he said. "She's gone, anyway. +Come, let's have our lunch!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span></p> + +<h2>VI</h2> + +<p>Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain +road lay empty under the moonlight. Three months +had passed, and none of the mystery of the earlier season +in the year remained. The hills had lost their +canopy of soft, gray mist. Nature had amplified and +emphasized herself. The whole outline of the country +was marvelously distinct. The more distant mountains, +as a rule blurred and uncertain in shape, seemed now to +pierce with their jagged summits the edge of the star-filled +sky.</p> + +<p>Up the long slope, where three months before he had +ridden to find himself confronted with the adventure of +his life, John Strangewey jogged homeward in his high +dog-cart. The mare, scenting her stable, broke into a +quick trot as they topped the long rise. Suddenly she +felt a hand tighten upon her reins. She looked inquiringly +around, and then stood patiently awaiting her +master's bidding.</p> + +<p>It seemed to John as if he had passed from the partial +abstraction of the last few hours into absolute and entire +forgetfulness of the present. He could see the +motor-car drawn up by the side of the road, could hear +the fretful voice of the maid, and the soft, pleasant +words of greeting from the woman who had seemed from +the first as if she were very far removed indeed from any +of the small annoyances of their accident.</p> + +<p>"I have broken down. Can you help?"</p> + +<p>He set his teeth. The poignancy of the recollection +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span> +was a torture to him. Word by word he lived again +through that brief interview. He saw her descend from +the car, felt the touch of her hand on his arm, saw the +flash of her brown eyes as she drew close to him with +that pleasant little air of familiarity, shared by no +other woman he had ever known.</p> + +<p>Then the little scene faded away, and he remembered +the tedious present. He had spent two dull days at the +house of a neighboring landowner, playing cricket in +the daytime, dancing at night with women in whom he +was unable to feel the slightest interest, always with +that far-away feeling in his heart, struggling hour by +hour with that curious restlessness which seemed to have +taken a permanent place in his disposition. He was on +his way home to Peak Hall. He knew exactly the welcome +which was awaiting him. He knew exactly the +news he would receive. He raised his whip and cracked +it viciously in the air.</p> + +<p>Stephen was waiting for him, as he had expected, in +the dining room. The elder Strangewey was seated in +his accustomed chair, smoking his pipe and reading the +paper. The table was laid for a meal, which Jennings +was preparing to serve.</p> + +<p>"Back again, John?" his brother remarked, looking +at him fixedly over his newspaper.</p> + +<p>John picked up one or two letters, glanced them over, +and flung them down upon the table. He had examined +every envelope for the last few months with the same +expectancy, and thrown each one down with the same +throb of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"As you see."</p> + +<p>"Had a good time?"</p> + +<p>"Not very. We were too strong for them. They +came without a bowler at all."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 60]</span> +"Did you get a good knock?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred and seven," John replied. "It was just +a slog, though. Nothing to eat, thank you, Jennings. +You can clear the table so far as I am concerned. I +had supper with the Greys. Have they finished the +barley-fields, Stephen?"</p> + +<p>"All in at eight o'clock."</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence. Then Stephen knocked +the ashes from his pipe and rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"John," he asked, "why did you pull up on the road +there?"</p> + +<p>There was no immediate answer. The slightest of +frowns formed itself upon the younger man's face.</p> + +<p>"How did you know that I pulled up?"</p> + +<p>"I was sitting with the window open, listening for +you. I came outside to see what had happened, and +I saw your lights standing still."</p> + +<p>"I had a fancy to stop for a moment," John said; +"nothing more."</p> + +<p>"You aren't letting your thoughts dwell upon that +woman?"</p> + +<p>"I have thought about her sometimes," John answered, +almost defiantly. "What's the harm? I'm +still here, am I not?"</p> + +<p>Stephen crossed the room. From the drawer of the +old mahogany sideboard he produced an illustrated +paper. He turned back the frontispiece fiercely and +held it up.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that, John?"</p> + +<p>"I've seen it already."</p> + +<p>Stephen threw the paper upon the table.</p> + +<p>"She's going to act in another of those confounded +French plays," he said; "translations with all the wit +taken out and all the vulgarity left in."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 61]</span> +"We know nothing of her art," John declared coldly. +"We shouldn't understand it, even if we saw her act. +Therefore, it isn't right for us to judge her. The +world has found her a great actress. She is not responsible +for the plays she acts in."</p> + +<p>Stephen turned away and lit his pipe anew. He +smoked for a minute or two furiously. His thick eyebrows +came closer and closer together. He seemed to +be turning some thought over in his mind.</p> + +<p>"John," he asked, "is it this cursed money that is +making you restless?"</p> + +<p>"I never think of it except when some one comes +begging. I promised a thousand pounds to the infirmary +to-day."</p> + +<p>"Then what's wrong with you?"</p> + +<p>John stretched himself out, a splendid figure of +healthy manhood. His cheeks were sun-tanned, his eyes +clear and bright.</p> + +<p>"The matter? There's nothing on earth the matter +with me," he declared.</p> + +<p>"It isn't your health I mean. There are other +things, as you well know. You do your day's work and +you take your pleasure, and you go through both as if +your feet were on a treadmill."</p> + +<p>"Your fancy, Stephen!"</p> + +<p>"God grant it! I've had an unwelcome visitor in +your absence."</p> + +<p>John turned swiftly around.</p> + +<p>"A visitor?" he repeated. "Who was it?"</p> + +<p>Stephen glowered at him for a moment.</p> + +<p>"It was the prince," he said; "the Prince of Seyre, +as he calls himself, though he has the right to style himself +Master of Raynham. It's only his foreign blood +which makes him choose what I regard as the lesser title. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 62]</span> +Yes, he called to ask you to shoot and stay at the castle, +if you would, from the 16th to the 20th of next month."</p> + +<p>"What answer did you give him?"</p> + +<p>"I told him that you were your own master. You +must send word to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"He did not mention the names of any of his other +guests, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"He mentioned no names at all."</p> + +<p>John was silent for a moment. A bewildering +thought had taken hold of him. Supposing she were to +be there!</p> + +<p>Stephen, watching him, read his thoughts, and for a +moment lost control of himself.</p> + +<p>"Were you thinking about that woman?" he asked +sternly.</p> + +<p>"What woman?"</p> + +<p>"The woman whom we sheltered here, the woman +whose shameless picture is on the cover of that book."</p> + +<p>John swung round on his heel.</p> + +<p>"Stop that, Stephen!" he said menacingly.</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" the older man retorted. "Take +up that paper, if you want to read a sketch of the life +of Louise Maurel. See the play she made her name in—'La +Gioconda'!"</p> + +<p>"What about it?"</p> + +<p>Stephen held the paper out to his brother. John +read a few lines and dashed it into a corner of the +room.</p> + +<p>"There's this much about it, John," Stephen continued. +"The woman played that part night after +night—played it to the life, mind you. She made her +reputation in it. That's the woman we unknowingly +let sleep beneath this roof! The barn is the place for +her and her sort!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 63]</span> +John's clenched fists were held firmly to his sides. +His eyes were blazing.</p> + +<p>"That's enough, Stephen!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"No, it's not enough!" was the fierce reply. "The +truth's been burning in my heart long enough. It's +better out. You want to find her a guest at Raynham +Castle, do you?—Raynham Castle, where never a decent +woman crosses the threshold! If she goes there, +she goes as his mistress. Well?"</p> + +<p>An anger that was almost paralyzing, a sense of the +utter impotence of words, drove John in silence from +the room. He left the house by the back door, passed +quickly through the orchard, where the tangled moonlight +lay upon the ground in strange, fantastic +shadows; across the narrow strip of field, a field now +of golden stubble; up the rough ascent, across the road, +and higher still up the hill which looked down upon the +farm-buildings and the churchyard.</p> + +<p>He sat grimly down upon a great boulder, filled with +a hateful sense of unwreaked passion, yet with a queer +thankfulness in his heart that he had escaped the miasma +of evil thoughts which Stephen's words seemed +to have created. The fancy seized him to face these +half-veiled suggestions of his brother's, so far as they +concerned himself and his life during the last few +months.</p> + +<p>Stephen was right. This woman who had dropped +from the clouds for those few brief hours had played +strange havoc with John's thoughts and his whole outlook +upon life. The coming of harvest, the care of his +people, his sports, his cricket, the early days upon the +grouse moors, had all suddenly lost their interest for +him. Life had become a task. The echo of her half-mocking, +half-challenging words was always in his ears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 64]</span> +He sat with his head resting upon his hands, looking +steadfastly across the valley below. Almost at his feet +lay the little church with its graveyard, the long line of +stacks and barns, the laborers' cottages, the bailiff's +house, the whole little colony around which his life +seemed centered. The summer moonlight lay upon the +ground almost like snow. He could see the sheaves of +wheat standing up in the most distant of the cornfields. +Beyond was the dark gorge toward which he had looked +so many nights at this hour.</p> + +<p>Across the viaduct there came a blaze of streaming +light, a serpentlike trail, a faintly heard whistle—the +Scottish Express on its way southward toward London. +His eyes followed it out of sight. He found himself +thinking of the passengers who would wake the next +morning in London. He felt himself suddenly acutely +conscious of his isolation. Was there not something +almost monastic in the seclusion which had become a +passion with Stephen, and which had its grip, too, upon +him—a waste of life, a burying of talents?</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet. The half-formed purpose of +weeks held him now, definite and secure. He knew that +this pilgrimage of his to the hilltop, his rapt contemplation +of the little panorama which had become so dear to +him, was in a sense valedictory.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>After all, two more months passed before the end +came, and it came then without a moment's warning. +It was a little past midday when John drove slowly +through the streets of Market Ketton in his high dogcart, +exchanging salutations right and left with the +tradespeople, with farmers brought into town by the +market, with acquaintances of all sorts and conditions. +More than one young woman from the shop-windows or +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 65]</span> +the pavements ventured to smile at him, and the few +greetings he received from the wives and daughters of +his neighbors were as gracious as they could possibly +be made. John almost smiled once, in the act of raising +his hat, as he realized how completely the whole charm +of the world, for him, seemed to lie in one woman's +eyes.</p> + +<p>At the crossways, where he should have turned up +to the inn, he paused while a motor-car passed. It +contained a woman, who was talking to her host. She +was not in the least like Louise, and yet instinctively he +knew that she was of the same world. The perfection +of her white-serge costume, her hat so smartly worn, +the half-insolent smile, the little gesture with which she +raised her hand—something about her unlocked the +floodgates.</p> + +<p>Market Ketton had seemed well enough a few minutes +ago. John had felt a healthy appetite for his midday +meal, and a certain interest concerning a deal of barley +upon which he was about to engage. And now another +world had him in its grip. He flicked the mare with +his whip, turned away from the inn, and galloped up to +the station, keeping pace with the train whose whistle +he had heard. Standing outside was a local horse-dealer +of his acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"Take the mare back for me to Peak Hall, will you, +Jenkins, or send one of your lads?" he begged. "I +want to catch this train."</p> + +<p>The man assented with pleasure—it paid to do a +kindness for a Strangewey. John passed through the +ticket-office to the platform, where the train was waiting, +threw open the door of a carriage, and flung himself +into a corner seat. The whistle sounded. The adventure +of his life had begun at last.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 66]</span></p> + +<h2>VII</h2> + +<p>The great French dramatist, dark, pale-faced, and +corpulent, stood upon the extreme edge of the stage, +brandishing his manuscript in his hand. From close +at hand, the stage manager watched him anxiously. +For the third time M. Graillot was within a few inches of +the orchestra-well.</p> + +<p>"If you would pardon me, M. Graillot," he ventured +timidly, "the footlights are quite unprotected, as you +see."</p> + +<p>Graillot glanced behind him and promptly abandoned +his dangerous position.</p> + +<p>"It is you, ladies and gentlemen," he declared, shaking +his manuscript vigorously at the handful of people +upon the stage, "who drive me into forgetfulness and +place me in the danger from which our friend here has +just rescued me. Do I not best know the words and the +phrases which will carry the messages of my play across +the footlights? Who is to judge, ladies and gentlemen—you +or I?"</p> + +<p>He banged the palm of his left hand with the rolled-up +manuscript and looked at them all furiously. A +slight, middle-aged man, clean-shaven, with a single eyeglass, +and features very well known to the theatergoing +world, detached himself a little from the others.</p> + +<p>"No one indeed, dear M. Graillot," he admitted, +"could possibly know these things so well as you; but, +on the other hand, when you write in your study at +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 67]</span> +Fontainebleau you write for a quicker-minded public +than ours. The phrase which would find its way at once +to the brain of the French audience needs, shall I say, +just a little amplification to carry equal weight across +the footlights of my theater. I will admit that we are +dealing with a translation which is, in its way, not sufficiently +literal, but our friend Shamus here has pointed +out to me the difficulties. The fact is, M. Graillot, that +some of the finest phrases in your work are untranslatable."</p> + +<p>"There are times," the dramatist asserted, moistening +his lips vigorously with his tongue, "when I regret +that I ever suffered Mr. Shamus or anybody else to attempt +to translate my inimitable play into a language +wholly inadequate to express its charm and subtlety!"</p> + +<p>"Quite so," the actor remarked sympathetically; +"but still, since the deed has been done, M. Graillot, +and since we are going to produce the result in the +course of a fortnight or so, or lose a great deal of +money, don't you think that we had all better try our +utmost to insure the success of the production?"</p> + +<p>"The only success I care for," Graillot thundered, +"is an artistic success!"</p> + +<p>"With Miss Maurel playing your leading part, M. +Graillot," the actor-manager declared, "not to speak +of a company carefully selected to the best of my judgment, +I think you may venture to anticipate even that."</p> + +<p>The dramatist bowed hurriedly to Louise.</p> + +<p>"You recall to me a fact," he said gallantly, "which +almost reconciles me to this diabolical travesty of some +of my lines. Proceed, then—proceed! I will be as +patient as possible."</p> + +<p>The stage manager shouted out some directions from +his box. A gentleman in faultless morning clothes, who +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 68]</span> +seemed to have been thoroughly enjoying the interlude, +suddenly adopted the puppetlike walk of a footman. +Other actors, who had been whispering together in the +wings, came back to their places. Louise advanced +alone, a little languidly, to the front of the stage. At +the first sound of her voice M. Graillot, nodding his head +vigorously, was soothed.</p> + +<p>Her speech was a long one. It appeared that she +had been arraigned before a company of her relatives, +assembled to comment upon her misdeeds. She wound +up with a passionate appeal to her husband, Mr. Miles +Faraday, who had made an unexpected appearance. +M. Graillot's face, as she concluded, was wreathed in +smiles.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he cried. "You have lifted us all up! Now +I feel once more the inspiration. <i>Mademoiselle</i>, I kiss +your hand," he went on. "It is you who still redeem +my play. You bring back the spirit of it to me. In +you I see the embodiment of my <i>Thérèse</i>."</p> + +<p>Miles Faraday gave a little sigh of relief and glanced +gratefully toward Louise. She nodded back to him and +gave her hand to the Frenchman, who held it to his +lips.</p> + +<p>"You flatter me, M. Graillot," she said. "It is +simply that I feel the force of your beautiful words. +<i>Thérèse</i> is a wonderful conception! As to those disputed +passages—well, I feel myself in a very difficult +position. Artistically, I am entirely in accord with +you, and yet I understand exactly what Mr. Faraday +means from the commercial point of view. Let us submit +the matter to the prince. He knows something of +both sides of the question."</p> + +<p>The Prince of Seyre, who was seated in the orchestra-leader's +chair, looked reproachfully toward Louise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 69]</span> +"Is this fair?" he protested. "Remember that I +am more than half a Frenchman, and that I am one of +our friend's most faithful disciples. I realize the delicacy +of the situation, and I understand Mr. Faraday's +point of view. I tell you frankly that the thought of +an empty theater appals me. It is not the money—I +am sure you all know that—but there isn't a single +man or woman in the world who can do his best unless +he or she plays to a full house. Somehow or other, we +must secure our audience."</p> + +<p>"It really comes to this," Faraday intervened. +"Shall we achieve a purely artistic triumph and drive +the people away? Or shall we—at the expense, I admit, +of some of the finest passages in M. Graillot's superb +drama—compromise the matter and keep our +box-office open? In a more humble way I hope I also +may call myself an artist; and yet not only must I live +myself, but I have a staff of employees dependent +upon me."</p> + +<p>Graillot waved his hand.</p> + +<p>"So! No more!" he exclaimed grandiloquently. +"The affair is finished. My consent is given. Delete +the lines! As to the scene laid in the bedroom of +<i>madame</i>, to-night I shall take up my pen. By noon to-morrow +I will give you a revision which will puff out the +cheeks of the Philistines with satisfaction. Have no +fear, <i>cher ami</i> Faraday! Mothers shall bring their +unmarried daughters to see our play. They shall all +watch it without a blush. If there is anything to make +the others think, it shall be beneath the surface. It +shall be for the great artist whom it is my supreme joy +to watch," he went on, bowing to Louise, "to act and +express the real truth of my ideas through the music +of innocent words."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 70]</span> +"Then all is arranged," Miles Faraday concluded +briskly. "We will leave the second act until tomorrow; +then M. Graillot will bring us his revision. We +will proceed now to the next act. Stand back a little, +if you please, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Maurel, will +you make your entrance?"</p> + +<p>Louise made no movement. Her eyes were fixed upon +a certain shadowy corner of the wings. Overwrought +as she had seemed a few minutes ago, with the emotional +excitement of her long speech, there was now a new and +curious expression upon her face. She seemed to be +looking beyond the gloomy, unlit spaces of the theater +into some unexpected land.</p> + +<p>Curiously enough, the three people there most interested +in her—the prince, Graillot, and her friend, +Sophy Gerard—each noticed the change. The little +fair-haired girl, who owed her small part in the play +to Louise, quitted her chair to follow the direction of +her friend's eyes. Faraday, with the frown of an actor-manager +resenting an intrusion, gazed in the same direction.</p> + +<p>To Sophy, the newcomer was simply the handsomest +young man she had ever seen in her life. To Faraday +he represented nothing more nor less than the unwelcome +intruder. The prince alone, with immovable features, +but with a slight contraction of his eyebrows, +gazed with distrust, almost with fear, unaccountable yet +disturbing, at the tall hesitating figure that stood just +off the stage.</p> + +<p>Louise only knew that she was amazed at herself, +amazed to find the walls of the theater falling away from +her. She forgot the little company of her friends by +whom she was surrounded. She forgot the existence of +the famous dramatist who hung upon her words, and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 71]</span> +the close presence of the prince. Her feet no longer +trod the dusty boards of the theater. She was almost +painfully conscious of the perfume of apple-blossom.</p> + +<p>"You!" she exclaimed, stretching out her hands. +"Why do you not come and speak to me? I am here!"</p> + +<p>John came out upon the stage. The French dramatist, +with his hands behind his back, made swift mental +notes of an interesting situation. He saw the coming +of a man who stood like a giant among them, sunburnt, +buoyant with health, his eyes bright with the wonder +of his unexpected surroundings; a man in whose presence +every one else seemed to represent an effete and +pallid type of humanity.</p> + +<p>The dramatist and the prince were satisfied, however, +with one single glance at the newcomer. Afterward, +their whole regard was focused upon Louise. The same +thought was in the mind of both of them—the same +fear!</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 72]</span></p> + +<h2>VIII</h2> + +<p>Those first few sentences, spoken in the midst of a +curious little crowd of strangers, seemed to John, when +he thought of his long waiting, almost piteously inadequate. +Louise, recognizing the difficulty of the situation, +swiftly recovered her composure. She was both +tactful and gracious.</p> + +<p>"Do tell me how you got in here," she said. "No +one is allowed to pass the stage door at rehearsal times. +Mr. Faraday, to whom I will introduce you in a moment, +is a perfect autocrat; and Mr. Mullins, our stage +manager, is even worse."</p> + +<p>"I just asked for you," John explained. "The +doorkeeper told me that you were engaged, but I persuaded +him to let me come in."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Bribery!" she declared accusingly.</p> + +<p>"I heard your voice, and after that it was hard to go +away. I'm afraid I ought to have waited outside."</p> + +<p>Louise turned to Miles Faraday, who was looking a +little annoyed.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Faraday," she said appealingly, "Mr. +Strangewey comes from the country—he is, in fact, +the most complete countryman I have ever met in my +life. He comes from Cumberland, and he once—well, +very nearly saved my life. He knows nothing about +theaters, and he hasn't the least idea of the importance +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 73]</span> +of a rehearsal. You won't mind if we put him somewhere +out of the way till we have finished, will you?"</p> + +<p>"After such an introduction," Faraday said in a +tone of resignation, "Mr. Strangewey would be welcome +at any time."</p> + +<p>"There's a dear man!" Louise exclaimed. "Let me +introduce him quickly. Mr. John Strangewey—Mr. +Miles Faraday, M. Graillot, Miss Sophy Gerard, my +particular little friend. The prince you already know, +although you may not recognize him trying to balance +himself on that absurd stool."</p> + +<p>John bowed in various directions, and Faraday, taking +him good-naturedly by the arm, led him to a garden-seat +at the back of the stage.</p> + +<p>"There!" he said. "You are one of the most +privileged persons in London. You shall hear the finish +of our rehearsal. There isn't a press man in London +I'd have near the place."</p> + +<p>"Very kind of you, I'm sure," John replied. "Is +this, may I ask, the play that you are soon going to +produce?"</p> + +<p>"Three weeks from next Monday, I hope," Faraday +told him. "Don't attempt to judge by anything you +hear this afternoon. We are just deciding upon some +cuts. See you later. You may smoke, if you like."</p> + +<p>Twenty-four hours away from his silent hills, John +looked out with puzzled eyes from his dusty seat among +ropes and pulleys and leaning fragments of scenery. +What he saw and heard seemed to him, for the most +part, a meaningless tangle of gestures and phrases. +The men and women in fashionable clothes, moving +about before that gloomy space of empty auditorium, +looked more like marionettes than creatures of flesh and +blood, drawn this way and that at the bidding of the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 74]</span> +stout, masterly Frenchman, who was continually muttering +exclamations and banging the manuscript upon +his hand.</p> + +<p>He kept his eyes fixed upon Louise. He told himself +that he was in her presence at last. As the moments +passed, it became more and more difficult for him to +realize the actuality of the scene upon which he was +looking. It seemed like a dream-picture, with unreal +men and women moving about aimlessly, saying strange +words.</p> + +<p>Then there came a moment which brought a tingle +into his blood, which plunged his senses into hot confusion. +He rose to his feet. Faraday was sitting down, +and Louise was resting both her hands upon his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Is there nothing I can be to you, then, Edmund?" +she asked, her voice vibrating with a passion which he +found it hard to believe was not real.</p> + +<p>Faraday turned slowly in his chair. He held out +his arms.</p> + +<p>"One thing," he murmured.</p> + +<p>John had moved half a step forward when he felt the +prince's eyes fixed upon him, and was conscious of a +sudden sense of ignorance, almost of uncouthness. It +was a play which they were rehearsing, of course! It +was a damnable thing to see Louise taken into that cold +and obviously unreal embrace, but it was only a play. +It was part of her work.</p> + +<p>John resumed his seat and folded his arms. With +the embrace had fallen an imaginary curtain, and the +rehearsal was over. They were all crowded together, +talking, in the center of the stage. The prince, who +had stepped across the footlights, made his way to +where John was sitting.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 75]</span> +"So you have deserted Cumberland for a time?" he +courteously inquired.</p> + +<p>"I came up last night," John replied.</p> + +<p>"You are making a long stay?"</p> + +<p>John hesitated. He felt that no one knew less of his +movements than he himself. His eyes had wandered to +where Louise and Graillot were talking.</p> + +<p>"I can scarcely tell yet. I have made no plans."</p> + +<p>"London, at this season of the year," the prince observed, +"is scarcely at its best."</p> + +<p>John smiled.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," he said, "that I am not critical. It +is eight years since I was here last, on my way down +from Oxford."</p> + +<p>"You have been abroad, perhaps?" the prince inquired.</p> + +<p>"I have not been out of Cumberland during the whole +of that time," John confessed.</p> + +<p>The prince, after a moment's incredulous stare, +laughed softly to himself.</p> + +<p>"You are a very wonderful person, Mr. Strangewey," +he declared. "I have heard of your good fortune. +If I can be of any service to you during your +stay in town," he added politely, "please command me."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," John replied gratefully.</p> + +<p>Louise broke away from the little group and came +across toward them.</p> + +<p>"Free at last!" she exclaimed. "Now let us go out +and have some tea."</p> + +<p>They made their way down the little passage and out +into the sudden blaze of the sunlit streets. Two cars +were drawn up outside the stage door.</p> + +<p>"The Carlton or Rumpelmayer's?" asked the prince, +who had overtaken them upon the pavement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 76]</span> +"The Carlton, I think," Louise decided. "We can +get a quiet table there inside the restaurant. You +bring Sophy, will you, Eugène? I am going to take +possession of Mr. Strangewey."</p> + +<p>The prince, with a little bow, pointed to the door of +his limousine, which a footman was holding open. +Louise led John to a smaller car which was waiting in +the rear.</p> + +<p>"The Carlton," she told the man, as he arranged the +rugs. "And now," she added, turning to John, "why +have you come to London? How long are you going to +stay? What are you going to do? And—most important +of all—in what spirit have you come?"</p> + +<p>John breathed a little sigh of contentment. They +were moving slowly down a back street to take their +place in the tide of traffic which flooded the main thoroughfares.</p> + +<p>"That sounds so like you," he said. "I came up +last night, suddenly. I have no idea how long I am +going to stay; I have no idea what I am going to do. +As for the spirit in which I have come—well, I should +call it an inquiring one."</p> + +<p>"A very good start," Louise murmured approvingly, +"but still a little vague!"</p> + +<p>"Then I will do away with all vagueness. I came to +see you," John confessed bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" she exclaimed, looking at him with a +little smile. "How downright you are!"</p> + +<p>"Country methods," he reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Don't overdo it," she begged.</p> + +<p>"The truth—" he began.</p> + +<p>"Has to be handled very carefully," she said, interrupting +him. "The truth is either beautiful or crude, +and the people who meddle with such a wonderful thing +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 77]</span> +need a great deal of tact. You have come to see me, +you say. Very well, then, I will be just as frank. I +have been hoping that you would come!"</p> + +<p>"You can't imagine how good it is to hear you say +that," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Mind," she went on, "I have been hoping it for +more reasons than one. You have come to realize, I +hope, that it is your duty to try to see a little more of +life than you possibly can leading a patriarchal existence +among your flocks and herds."</p> + +<p>"That may be so," John assented. "I have often +thought of our conversation. I don't know, even now, +whether you were right or wrong. I only know that +since you went away I have felt something of the unrest +with which you threatened me. I want to settle the +matter one way or the other. I want to try, for a +little time, what it is like to live in the crowded places, +to be near you, to see, if I may, more of you and your +way of living."</p> + +<p>They were silent for several moments.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would come," Louise said at last; +"and I am glad, but even in these first few minutes I +want to say something to you. If you wish to succeed +in your object, and really understand the people you +meet here and the life they lead, don't be like your +brother—too quick to judge. Do not hug your prejudices +too tightly. You will come across many problems, +many situations which will seem strange to you. +Do not make up your mind about anything in a +hurry."</p> + +<p>"I will remember that," he promised. "You must +remember, though, that I don't expect ever to become a +convert. I believe I am a countryman, bred and born. +Still, there are some things that I want to understand, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 78]</span> +if I can, and, more than anything else—I want to see +you!"</p> + +<p>She faced his direct speech this time with more deliberation.</p> + +<p>"Tell me exactly why."</p> + +<p>"If I could tell you that," he replied simply, "I +should be able to answer for myself the riddle which +has kept me awake at night for weeks and months, +which has puzzled me more than anything else in life +has ever done."</p> + +<p>"You really have thought of me, then?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you always know that I should?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she admitted. "Anyhow, I always felt +that we should meet again, that you would come to London. +The problem is," she added, smiling, "what to do +with you now you are here."</p> + +<p>"I haven't come to be a nuisance," he assured her. +"I just want a little help from you."</p> + +<p>She became indiscreet. She looked at him with a +little smile at the corners of her lips.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else?" she asked, almost under her breath.</p> + +<p>"At the end of it all, yes," he answered simply. "I +want to understand because it is your world. I want +to feel myself nearer to you. I want—"</p> + +<p>She gripped at his arm suddenly. She knew well +enough that she had deliberately provoked his words, +but there was a look in her face almost of fear.</p> + +<p>"Don't let us be too serious all at once," she begged +quickly. "If you have one fault, my dear big friend +from the country," she went on, with a swiftly assumed +gaiety, "it is that you are too serious for your years. +Sophy and I between us must try to cure you of that! +You see, we have arrived."</p> + +<p>He handed her out, followed her across the pavement, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 79]</span> +and found himself plunged into what seemed to him to +be an absolute vortex of human beings, all dressed in +very much the same fashion, all laughing and talking +together very much in the same note, all criticising every +fresh group of arrivals with very much the same eyes +and manner. The palm-court was crowded with little +parties seated at the various round tables, partaking +languidly of the most indolent meal of the day. Even +the broad passageway was full of men and women, +standing about talking or looking for tables. One +could scarcely hear the music of the orchestra for the +babel of voices.</p> + +<p>The Prince of Seyre beckoned to them from the steps. +He seemed to have been awaiting their arrival there—a +cold, immaculate, and, considering his lack of height, +a curiously distinguished-looking figure.</p> + +<p>"I have a table inside," he told them as they approached. +"It is better for conversation. The rest +of the place is like a beer-garden. I am not sure if +they will dance here to-day, but if they do, they will +come also into the restaurant."</p> + +<p>"Wise man!" Louise declared. "I, too, hate the +babel outside."</p> + +<p>They were ushered to a round table directly before +the entrance, and a couple of attentive waiters stood +behind their chairs.</p> + +<p>"We are faced," said the prince, as he took up the +menu, "with our daily problem. What can I order for +you?"</p> + +<p>"A cup of chocolate," Louise replied.</p> + +<p>"And Miss Sophy?"</p> + +<p>"Tea, please."</p> + +<p>John, too, preferred tea; the prince ordered absinth.</p> + +<p>"A polyglot meal, isn't it, Mr. Strangewey?" said +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 80]</span> +Louise, as the order was executed; "not in the least; +what that wonderful old butler of yours would understand +by tea. We become depraved in our appetites, +as well as in our sensations. We are always seeking +for something new. Sophy, put your hat on straight +if you want to make a good impression on Mr. Strangewey. +I am hoping that you two will be great friends."</p> + +<p>Sophy turned toward John with a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"Louise is so tactless!" she said. "I am sure any +idea you might have had of liking me will have gone +already. Has it, Mr. Strangewey?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," he replied, a little stiffly, but +without hesitation, "I was thinking that Miss Maurel +could scarcely have set me a more pleasant task."</p> + +<p>The girl looked reproachfully across at her friend.</p> + +<p>"You told me he came from the wilds and was quite +unsophisticated!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"The truth," John assured them, looking with dismay +at his little china cup, "comes very easily to us. +We are brought up on it in Cumberland."</p> + +<p>"Positively nourished on it," Louise agreed. "My +dear Sophy, what he says is quite true. Up there a +man would tell you that he didn't like the cut of your +new blouse or the droop of your hat. It's a wonderful +atmosphere, and very austere. You ought to meet +Mr. Strangewey's brother, if you want to know the +truth about yourself. Do go on looking about you, +Mr. Strangewey; and when you have finished, tell us just +what you are thinking."</p> + +<p>"Well, just at that moment," he replied, "I was +thinking that I ought not to have come here in these +clothes."</p> + +<p>The girl by his side laughed reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact, you couldn't have done anything +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 81]</span> +more successful," she declared. "The one thing +up here that every one would like to do if he dared is to +be different from his fellows; but very few have the +necessary courage. Besides, at heart we are all so +frightfully, hatefully imitative. The last great success +was the prince, when he wore a black stock with a +dinner-coat; but, alas, next evening there were forty or +fifty of them! If you come here to tea to-morrow afternoon, +I dare say you will find dozens of men wearing +gray tweed clothes, colored shirts, and brown boots. I +am sure they are most becoming!"</p> + +<p>"Don't chatter too much, child," Louise said benignly. +"I want to hear some more of Mr. Strangewey's +impressions. This is—well, if not quite a fashionable +crowd, yet very nearly so. What do you think +of it—the women, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"Well, to me," John confessed candidly, "they all +look like dolls or manikins. Their dresses and their +hats overshadow their faces. They seem all the time to +be wanting to show, not themselves, but what they have +on."</p> + +<p>They all laughed. Even the prince's lips were +parted by the flicker of a smile. Sophy leaned across +the table with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Louise," she pleaded, "you will lend him to me +sometimes, won't you? You won't keep him altogether +to yourself? There are such a lot of places I want to +take him to!"</p> + +<p>"I was never greedy," Louise remarked, with an air +of self-satisfaction. "If you succeed in making a favorable +impression upon him, I promise you your +share."</p> + +<p>"Tell us some more of your impressions, Mr. +Strangewey," Sophy begged.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 82]</span> +"You want to laugh at me," John protested good-humoredly.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," the prince assured him, as he +fitted a cigarette into a long, amber tube, "they want +to laugh with you. You ought to realize your value as +a companion in these days. You are the only person +who can see the truth. Eyes and tastes blurred with +custom perceive so little. You are quite right when +you say that these women are like manikins; that their +bodies and faces are lost; but one does not notice it +until it is pointed out."</p> + +<p>"We will revert," Louise decided, "to a more primitive +life. You and I will inaugurate a missionary enterprise, +Mr. Strangewey. We will judge the world +afresh. We will reclothe and rehabilitate it."</p> + +<p>The prince flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Morally as well as sartorially?" he asked.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's rather queer silence. The +music rose above the hubbub of voices and died away +again. Louise rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Quite an intelligent person, really," she said, moving +her head in the direction of the prince. "His little +attacks of cynicism come only with indigestion or after +absinth. Now, if you like, you shall escort me home, +Mr. Strangewey. I want to show him exactly where I +live," she explained, addressing the others, "so that he +will have no excuse for not coming to pay his respects +to me to-morrow afternoon."</p> + +<p>The prince, with a skilful maneuver, made his way to +her side as they left the restaurant.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow afternoon, I think you said?" he repeated +quietly. "You will be in town then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 83]</span> +"You have changed your mind, then, about—"</p> + +<p>"M. Graillot will not listen to my leaving London," +she interrupted rapidly. "He declares that it is too +near the production of the play. My own part may be +perfect, but he needs me for the sake of the others. +He puts it like a Frenchman, of course."</p> + +<p>They had reached the outer door, which was being +held open for them by a bowing commissionnaire. John +and Sophy were waiting upon the pavement. The +prince drew a little back.</p> + +<p>"I understand!" he murmured.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 84]</span></p> + +<h2>IX</h2> + +<p>The first few minutes that John spent in Louise's +little house were full of acute and vivid interest. From +the moment of his first meeting with Louise upon the +moonlit Cumberland road, during the whole of that next +wonderful morning until their parting, and afterward, +through all the long, dreaming days and nights that +had intervened, she had remained a mystery to him. +It was amazing how little he really knew of her. During +his journey to town, he had sat with folded arms +in the corner of his compartment, wondering whether +in her own environment he would find her easier to understand.</p> + +<p>He asked himself that question again now, as he +found himself in her drawing-room, in a room entirely +redolent of her personality. Their meeting at the theater +had told him nothing. She had gratified his sentiment +by the pleasure she had shown at his unexpected +appearance, but his understanding remained unsatisfied.</p> + +<p>The room that he was so eagerly studying confirmed +his cloudy impressions of its owner. There was, for a +woman's apartment, a curious absence of ornamentation +and knickknacks. The walls were black and white, +an idea fantastic in its way, yet carried out with extreme +lightness in the ceiling and frieze. The carpet +was white; the furniture, of which there was very little, +of the French period before the rococo type, graceful +in its outline, rather heavy in build, and covered with +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 85]</span> +old-rose colored chintz. There were water-colors upon +the wall, an etching or two from a Parisian studio, and +some small black-and-white fantasies, puzzling to John, +who had never even heard the term Futurist, yet in +their way satisfactory.</p> + +<p>There was a small-sized grand piano, which seemed to +have found its way almost apologetically into a remote +corner; a delightful open fireplace with rough, white +tiles, and an old-fashioned brass box, in which was piled +a little heap of sweet-smelling wood blocks. A table, +drawn up to the side of one of the easy chairs, was +covered with books and magazines, some Italian, a few +English, the greater part French; and upon a smaller +one, close at hand, stood a white bowl full of pink roses. +Their odor was somehow reminiscent of Louise, curiously +sweet and wholesome—an odor which suddenly +took him back to the morning when she had come to +him from under the canopy of apple-blossom.</p> + +<p>He drew a little sigh of contentment as he rose to his +feet and walked to the window. The room charmed +him. It was wonderful that he should find it like this. +His heart began to beat with pleasure even before the +opening of the door announced her presence. She +came in with Sophy, who at once seated herself by his +side.</p> + +<p>"We have been making plans," Louise declared, "for +disposing of you for the rest of the day."</p> + +<p>John smiled happily.</p> + +<p>"You're not sending me away, then? You're not +acting this evening?"</p> + +<p>"Not until three weeks next Monday," she replied. +"Then, if you are good, and the production is not postponed, +you may seat yourself in a box and make all the +noise you like after the fall of the curtain. These are +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 86]</span> +real holidays for me, except for the nuisance of rehearsals. +You couldn't have come at a better time."</p> + +<p>Sophy glanced at the clock.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "I must show my respect to that +most ancient of adages by taking my departure. I +feel—"</p> + +<p>"You will do nothing of the sort, child," Louise +interrupted. "I want to interest you in the evolution +of Mr. Strangewey."</p> + +<p>"I don't feel that I am necessary," Sophy sighed. +"Perhaps I might take him off your hands some evening +when you are busy."</p> + +<p>"On this first evening, at any rate," Louise insisted, +"we are going to be a truly harmonious party of three."</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you really mean it," Sophy remarked, +resuming her seat, "and if I sha'n't make an enemy for +life of Mr. Strangewey, I should love to come, too. +Let's decide what to do with him, Louise."</p> + +<p>For a moment the eyes of the two others met. Louise +looked swiftly away, and John's heart gave a little +leap. Was it possible that the same thought had been +in her mind—to spend the evening quietly in that little +room? Had she feared it?</p> + +<p>"We must remember," Louise said calmly, "that a +heavy responsibility rests upon us. It is his first night +in London. What aspect of it shall we attempt to +show him? Shall we make ourselves resplendent, put +on our best manners and our most gorgeous gowns, and +show him the world of starch and form and fashion from +the prince's box at the opera? Or shall we transform +ourselves into Bohemians, drink Chianti at our beloved +Antonio's, eat Italian food in Soho, smoke long cigarettes, +and take him to the Palace? Don't say a word, +Sophy. It is not for us to choose."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 87]</span> +"I am afraid that isn't any choice," John declared, +his face falling. "I haven't any clothes except what +you see me in."</p> + +<p>"Hooray!" Sophy exclaimed. "Off with your +smart gown, Louise! We'll be splendidly Bohemian. +You shall put on your black frock and a black hat, and +powder your nose, and we'll all go to Guido's first and +drink vermuth. I can't look the part, but I can act +it!"</p> + +<p>"But tell me," Louise asked him, "did you lose your +luggage?"</p> + +<p>"I brought none," he answered.</p> + +<p>They both looked at him—Sophy politely curious, +Louise more deeply interested. He answered the inquiry +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You'll say, perhaps," he observed, "that living +that quiet, half-buried life up in Cumberland one should +have no moods. I have them sometimes. I was in +Market Ketton, on my way to the hotel for lunch, when +I heard the whistle of the London Express coming in. +I just had time to drive to the station, leave the horse +and dog-cart with a man I knew, and jump into the +train. I had no ticket or luggage."</p> + +<p>They both stared at him.</p> + +<p>"You mean," Louise demanded, "that after waiting +all these months you started away upon impulse like +that—without even letting your brother know or +bringing any luggage?"</p> + +<p>"That's exactly what I did," John agreed, smiling. +"I had a sovereign in my pocket when I had bought my +ticket; and by the time I had paid for my dinner on the +train, and tipped the men—well, I hadn't a great deal +left to go shopping with. I stayed at the St. Pancras +Hotel, and telephoned to my solicitor before I got up +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 88]</span> +this morning to have him send me some money. The +joke of it was," he went on, joining in the girls' laughter, +"that Mr. Appleton has been worrying me for +months to come up and talk over reinvestments, and +take control of the money my uncle left me; and when I +came at last, I arrived like a pauper. He went out +himself and bought my shirt."</p> + +<p>"And a very nice shirt, too," Sophy declared, glancing +at the pattern. "Do tell us what else happened!"</p> + +<p>"Well, not much more," John replied. "Mr. Appleton +stuffed me full of money and made me take a little +suite of rooms at what he called a more fashionable +hotel. He stayed to lunch with me, and I have promised +to see him on business to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>The two girls sat up and wiped their eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is a wonderful adventure you have embarked +upon!" Louise exclaimed. "You have come +quite in the right spirit. Now I am going to change +my clothes and powder my face, and we will go to Guido's +for a little vermuth, dine at Antonio's, and sit side +by side at the Palace. We shall have to take Sophy +with us, but if you show her too much attention I shall +send her home. It is your first night here, Mr. +Strangewey, so I warn you that Sophy is the most irresponsible +and capricious of all my friends. She has +more admirers than she knows what to do with, and +she disposes of them in the simplest way in the world—by +getting new ones."</p> + +<p>Sophy made a grimace.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," she begged earnestly, "you +won't believe a word she says, will you? All my life I +have been looking for a single and steadfast attachment. +Of course, if Louise wants to monopolize you, I shall +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 89]</span> +fall into the background, as I usually do; but if you +think that I am going to accept hints and let you go +out to dinner alone, you are very much mistaken. To-night, +at any rate, I insist upon coming!"</p> + +<p>Louise shook her head.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to put up with her," she told John +with a little grimace.</p> + +<p>The door of the room was suddenly opened. The +parlor maid stood at one side.</p> + +<p>"The Prince of Seyre, madam," she announced.</p> + +<p>Louise nodded. She was evidently expecting the +visit. She turned to John.</p> + +<p>"Will you come back and call for us here—say at +seven o'clock? Mind, you are not to bother about your +clothes, but to come just as you are. I can't tell you," +she added under her breath, "how much I am looking +forward to our evening!"</p> + +<p>Sophy sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Won't you drop me, please, Mr. Strangewey?" she +asked. "Then, if you will be so kind, you can pick me +up again on your way here. You'll have to pass where +I live, if you are at the Milan. I must go home and do +my little best to compete."</p> + +<p>Louise's frown was so slight that even John failed to +notice it. Upon the threshold they encountered the +prince, who detained John for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I was hoping that I might meet you here, Mr. +Strangewey," he said. "If you are in town for long, it +will give me great pleasure if I can be of any service to +you. You are staying at a hotel?"</p> + +<p>"I am staying at the Milan," John replied.</p> + +<p>"I will do myself the pleasure of calling upon you," +the prince continued. "In the meantime, if you need +any service that a Londoner can offer you, be sure to let +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 90]</span> +me know. You will easily find my house in Grosvenor +Square."</p> + +<p>"It is very kind of you indeed," John said gratefully.</p> + +<p>Sophy made a wry face as the prince entered the +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Didn't some old Roman once write something about +being afraid of Greeks who brought gifts?" she asked, +as they descended the stairs together.</p> + +<p>"Quite right," John assented.</p> + +<p>"Well, be careful!" she advised him. "That's +all."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>John handed Sophy into the taxi and took his place +beside her.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I put you down?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It's such a terribly low neighborhood! However, +it's quite close to the Milan—No. 10 Southampton +Street."</p> + +<p>John gave the address to the man, and they started +off. They were blocked in a stream of traffic almost as +soon as they reached Hyde Park Corner. John leaned +forward all the time, immensely interested in the stream +of passers-by.</p> + +<p>"Your interest in your fellow creatures," she murmured +demurely, "is wonderful, but couldn't you concentrate +it just a little?"</p> + +<p>He turned quickly around. She was smiling at him +most alluringly. Unconsciously he found himself smiling +back again. A wonderful light-heartedness seemed +to have come to him during the last few hours.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I am a perfect idiot," he admitted. "I +cannot help it. I am used to seeing, at the most, three +or four people together at a time. I can't understand +these crowds. Where are they all going? Fancy +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 91]</span> +every one of them having a home, every one of them +struggling in some form or another toward happiness!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she pronounced severely, "for a +young man of your age you are much too serious? +Please commence your psychological studies to-morrow. +To-night we are going to have a really frivolous evening, +you and I—and Louise. If you want to be a +great success during the next few hours, what you have +to do is to imagine that there are only two people in the +world beside yourself—Louise and I."</p> + +<p>"I think I shall find that very easy," he promised, +smiling.</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure you could be nice if you wanted +to," she continued. "How much are you in love with +Louise?"</p> + +<p>"How much am I what?"</p> + +<p>"In love with Louise," she repeated. "All the men +are. It is a perfect cult with them. And here am I, +her humble companion and friend, absolutely neglected!"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you are neglected at all," he replied. +"You are too much too—"</p> + +<p>He turned his head to look at her. She was so close +to him that their hats collided. He was profuse in his +apologies.</p> + +<p>"Too what?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Too attractive," he ventured.</p> + +<p>"It's nice to hear you say so," she sighed. "Well, +I have to get out here. This is where I live, up on the +fourth floor."</p> + +<p>"How does one get there?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>She looked at him quickly. There was a little catch +in her breath.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 92]</span> +"What do you mean?" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you say that I was to come and fetch you, +and then we could go on to Miss Maurel's together?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," she assented slowly. "How stupid of +me! Some day I'll show you, but I know you would +lose the way now. If you like, I'll come for you—to +the Milan."</p> + +<p>"If you would really prefer it?"</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure that I should," she decided. +"There are about seven turns up to my room, and I +shall have to personally conduct you there three or four +times before you'll ever be able to find your way. I will +come as soon as I am ready, and then you can give me +a cocktail before we set out."</p> + +<p>She disappeared with a little wave of the hand, and +John drove on to his destination. His rooms at the +Milan were immensely comfortable and in their way +quite homelike. John made some small changes to his +toilet and was still in his shirt-sleeves, with hair-brushes +in his hands, when there came a ring at the bell. He +answered it at once and found Sophy standing outside. +He gave a little start.</p> + +<p>"I say, I'm awfully sorry!"</p> + +<p>"What for, you silly person?" she laughed. "Which +way is the sitting room, please? Oh, I see! Now, +please ring for the waiter and order me a vermuth cocktail, +and one for yourself, of course; and I want some +cigarettes. How clever of you to get rooms looking out +upon the Embankment! I wish they would light the +lamps. I think the illuminated arcs along the Embankment +and past the Houses of Parliament is the most +wonderful thing in London. Don't please, look so terrified +because you haven't got your coat on! Remember +that I have five brothers."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 93]</span> +"I had no idea you would be here so soon," he explained, +"or I would have been downstairs, waiting for +you."</p> + +<p>"Don't be stupid!" she replied. "Please remember +that when you are with me, at any rate, you are in +Bohemia and not Belgravia. I don't expect such attentions. +I rather like coming up to your rooms like +this, and I always love the Milan. I really believe that +I am your first lady visitor here."</p> + +<p>"You most assuredly are!" he told her.</p> + +<p>She turned away from the window and suddenly threw +up her arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I love this place!" she exclaimed. "I love the +sort of evening that we are going to have! I feel happy +to-night. And do you know?—I quite like you, Mr. +Strangewey!"</p> + +<p>She clasped the back of her chair and from behind it +looked across at him. She was petite and slender, with +a very dainty figure. She wore a black tailor-made +costume, a simple, round-black hat with a long quill set +at a provoking angle, white-silk stockings, and black, +patent shoes. She was unlike any girl John had ever +known. Her hair was almost golden, her eyes a distinct +blue, yet some trick of the mouth saved her face +from any suggestion of insipidity. She was looking +straight into his eyes, and her lips were curled most invitingly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew more about certain things," he said.</p> + +<p>She came round from behind the chair and stood a +little nearer to him.</p> + +<p>"What things?"</p> + +<p>"You know," he said, "I am afraid there is no doubt +about it that I am most horribly in love with another +woman. I have come to London because of her. It +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 94]</span> +seems to me that everything in life depends upon how +she treats me. And yet—"</p> + +<p>"And yet what?" she asked, looking up at him a little +wistfully.</p> + +<p>"I feel that I want to kiss you," he confessed.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you don't get it done before the waiter +brings in those cocktails, I shall scream!"</p> + +<p>He took her lightly in his arms for a moment and +kissed her. Then she threw herself down in the easy +chair and began to laugh softly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why didn't you come before?" she exclaimed. +"Fancy Louise never telling me about you!"</p> + +<p>The waiter entered a few minutes later. He drew up +a small round table between them, placed the two wineglasses +upon it, and departed expeditiously. John +took one of the glasses over to Sophy. She accepted +it and gave him her fingers to kiss.</p> + +<p>"Dear man," she sighed, "I am getting much too +fond of you! Go and sit in your corner, drink your +cocktail, and remember Louise. I love your rooms, and +I hope you'll ask me to lunch some time."</p> + +<p>"I'll have a luncheon party to-morrow, if you like—that +is, if Louise will come."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him quickly.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Louise going to Paris?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He set down the glass which he had been in the act of +raising to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Paris? I didn't hear her say anything about it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is my mistake, then," Sophy went on +hastily. "I only fancied that I heard her say so."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence. John had opened his +lips to ask a question, but quickly closed them again. +It was a question, he suddenly decided, which he had better +ask of Louise herself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 95]</span> +"If she does go, I shall be very sorry," he said; "but +I do not wish, of course, to upset her plans. We must +talk to her about it to-night. I suppose we ought to go +now."</p> + +<p>Sophy walked with him to the door and waited while +he took his hat and gloves from the hat-stand. Suddenly +she laid her hand upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"If Louise goes to Paris," she whispered disconsolately, +"I suppose there will be no luncheon-party?"</p> + +<p>For a single moment he hesitated. She was very alluring, +and the challenge in her eyes was unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"I think," he said quietly, "that if Miss Maurel goes +to Paris, I shall return to Cumberland to-morrow."</p> + +<p>He opened the door, and Sophy passed out before him. +She had dropped her veil.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>They drove down the Strand toward Knightsbridge. +For a time there was a significant silence. Then Sophy +raised her veil once more and looked toward John.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," she began, "you won't mind if +I give you just a little word of advice? You are such a +big, strong person, but you are rather a child, you know, +in some things."</p> + +<p>"This place does make me feel ignorant," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"Don't idealize any one here," she begged. "Don't +concentrate all your hopes upon one object. Love is +wonderful and life is wonderful, but there is only one life, +and there are many loves before one reaches the end. +People do such silly things sometimes," she wound up, +"just because of a little disappointment. There are +many disappointments to be met with here."</p> + +<p>He took her hand in his.</p> + +<p>"Little girl," he said, "you are very good to me, and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 96]</span> +I think you understand. Are you going to let me feel +that I have found a friend on my first evening in London?"</p> + +<p>"If you want me," she answered simply. "I like +you, and I want you to be happy here; and because I +want you to be happy, I want you to come down from +the clouds and remember that you have left your hills +behind and that we walk on the pavements here."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he whispered, "and thank you for +what you have not said. If I am to find sorrow here instead +of joy," he added, a little grimly, "it is better +for me to stumble into the knowledge of it by myself."</p> + +<p>"Your hills have taught you just that much of life, +then?" Sophy murmured.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 97]</span></p> + +<h2>X</h2> + +<p>The Prince of Seyre handed his hat and stick to the +parlor maid and seated himself upon the divan.</p> + +<p>"I should be very sorry," he said politely, as the maid +left the room, "if my coming has hastened the departure +of your visitors."</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," Louise assured him. "They +were leaving when you were announced. Sophy and I +are taking Mr. Strangewey to a Bohemian restaurant +and a music-hall afterward."</p> + +<p>"Fortunate Mr. Strangewey!" the prince sighed. +"But, forgive me, why not a more dignified form of entertainment +for his first evening?"</p> + +<p>"The poor man has no clothes," Louise explained. +"He came to London quite unexpectedly."</p> + +<p>"No clothes?" the prince repeated. "It is a long +journey to take in such a fashion. A matter of urgent +business, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>Louise shrugged her shoulders. She had risen to her +feet and was busy rearranging some roses in the bowl +by her side.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey has just come into a large fortune, +as you know," she said. "Probably there are many +things to be attended to."</p> + +<p>The prince made no further comment. He drew a +tortoise-shell-and-gold cigarette-case from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"It is permitted that one smokes?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"It is always permitted to you," was the gracious +reply.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 98]</span> +"One of my privileges," he remarked, as he blew out +the match; "in fact, almost my only privilege."</p> + +<p>She glanced up, but her eyes fell before his.</p> + +<p>"Is that quite fair?"</p> + +<p>"I should be grieved to do anything or to say anything +to you that was not entirely fair."</p> + +<p>She crushed one of the roses to pieces suddenly in her +hands and shook the petals from her long, nervous +fingers.</p> + +<p>"To-day," she said, "this afternoon—now—you +have come to me with something in your mind, something +you wish to say, something you are not sure how to say. +That is, you see, what Henri Graillot calls my intuition. +Even you, who keep all your feelings under a mask, can +conceal very little from me."</p> + +<p>"My present feelings," the prince declared, "I do +not wish to conceal. I would like you to know them. +But as words are sometimes clumsy, I would like, if it +were possible, to let you see into my heart, or, in these +days, shall I not say my consciousness? I should +feel, then, that without fear of misunderstanding you +would know certain things which I would like you to +know."</p> + +<p>She came over and seated herself by his side on the +divan. She even laid her hand upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"Eugène," she expostulated, "we are too old friends +to talk always in veiled phrases. There is something +you have to say to me. I am listening."</p> + +<p>"You know what it is," he told her.</p> + +<p>"You are displeased because I have changed my +mind about that little journey of ours?"</p> + +<p>"I am bitterly disappointed," he admitted.</p> + +<p>She looked at him curiously and then down at her +rose-stained fingers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 99]</span> +"That does not sound quite like you," she said. +"And yet I ought to know that sometimes you do feel +things, even though you show it so little. I am sorry, +Eugène."</p> + +<p>"Why are you sorry?"</p> + +<p>"Because I feel that I cannot take that journey."</p> + +<p>"You mean that you cannot now, or that you cannot +at any time?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," she answered. "You ask me more +than I can tell you. Sometimes life seems so stable, a +thing one can make a little chart of and hang up on +the wall, and put one's finger here and there—'To-day +I will do this, to-morrow I will feel that'—and the next +morning comes and the chart is in the fire. I wish I +understood myself a little better, Eugène!"</p> + +<p>"Self-understanding is the rarest of all gifts," the +prince remarked. "It is left for those who love us +to understand us."</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>"I believe that I understand you better, far better, +than you understand yourself," he declared. "That +is why I also believe that I am necessary to you. I can +prevent your making mistakes."</p> + +<p>"Then prevent me," she begged. "Something has +happened, and the chart is in the fire to-day."</p> + +<p>"You have only," he said, "to give your maid her +orders, to give me this little hand, and I will draw out a +fresh one which shall direct to the place in life which +is best for you. It is not too late."</p> + +<p>She rose from beside him and walked toward the fireplace, +as if to touch the bell. He watched her with +steady eyes but expressionless face. There was something +curious about her walk. The spring had gone +from her feet, her shoulders were a little hunched. It +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 100]</span> +was the walk of a woman who goes toward the things +she fears.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" he bade her.</p> + +<p>She turned and faced him, quickly, almost eagerly. +There was a look in her face of the prisoner who finds +respite.</p> + +<p>"Leave the bell alone," he directed. "My own +plans are changed. I do not wish to leave London this +week."</p> + +<p>Her face was suddenly brilliant, her eyes shone. +Something electric seemed to quiver through her frame. +She almost danced back to her place by his side.</p> + +<p>"How foolish!" she murmured. "Why didn't you +say so at once?"</p> + +<p>"Because," he replied, "they have only been changed +during the last few seconds. I wanted to discover something +which I have discovered."</p> + +<p>"To discover something?"</p> + +<p>"That my time has not yet come."</p> + +<p>She turned away from him. She was oppressed with +a sense almost of fear, a feeling that he was able to read +the very thoughts forming in her brain; to understand, +as no one else in the world could understand, the things +that lived in her heart.</p> + +<p>"I must not keep you," he remarked, glancing at the +clock. "It was very late for me to call, and you will be +wanting to join your friends."</p> + +<p>"They are coming here for me," she explained. +"There is really no hurry at all. We are not changing +anything. It is to be quite a simple evening. Sometimes +I wish that you cared about things of that sort, +Eugène."</p> + +<p>He blew through his lips a little cloud of smoke from +the cigarette which he had just lit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 101]</span> +"I do not fancy," he replied, "that I should be much +of a success as a fourth in your little expedition."</p> + +<p>"But it is silly of you not to visit Bohemia occasionally," +she declared, ignoring the meaning that lay beneath +his words. "It is refreshing to rub shoulders +with people who feel, and who show freely what they +feel; to eat their food, drink their wine, even join in +their pleasures."</p> + +<p>The prince shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am not of the people," he said, "and I have no +sympathy with them. I detest the <i>bourgeoisie</i> of every +country in the world—my own more particularly."</p> + +<p>"If you only knew how strangely that sounds!" she +murmured.</p> + +<p>"Does it?" he answered. "You should read my +family history, read of the men and women of my race +who were butchered at the hands of that drunken, lustful +mob whom lying historians have glorified. I am one +of those who do not forget injuries. My estates are administered +more severely than any others in France. +No penny of my money has ever been spent in charity. +I neither forget nor forgive."</p> + +<p>She laughed a little nervously.</p> + +<p>"What an unsympathetic person you can be, +Eugène!"</p> + +<p>"And for that very reason," he replied, "I can be +sympathetic. Because I hate some people, I have the +power of loving others. Because it pleases me to deal +severely with my enemies, it gives me joy to deal generously +with my friends. That is my conception of life. +May I wish you a pleasant evening?"</p> + +<p>"You are going now?" she asked, a little surprised.</p> + +<p>He smiled faintly as he raised her fingers to his lips. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 102]</span> +She had made a little movement toward him, but he took +no advantage of it.</p> + +<p>"I am going now."</p> + +<p>"When shall I see you again?" she inquired, as she +came back from ringing the bell.</p> + +<p>"A telephone-message from your maid, a line written +with your own fingers," he said, "will bring me to you +within a few minutes. If I hear nothing, I may come +uninvited, but it will be when the fancy takes me. Once +more, Louise, a pleasant evening!"</p> + +<p>He passed out of the door, which the parlor maid +was holding open for him. Crossing to the window, +Louise watched him leave the house and enter his waiting +automobile. He gave no sign of haste or disappointment. +He lit another cigarette deliberately upon +the pavement and gave his orders to the chauffeur with +some care.</p> + +<p>As the car drove off without his having once glanced +up at the window, she shivered a little. There was a +silence which, it seemed to her, could be more minatory +even than accusation.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 103]</span></p> + +<h2>XI</h2> + +<p>The little room was gaudily decorated and redolent +with the lingering odors of many dinners. Yet Louise, +who had dined on the preceding evening at the Ritz and +been bored, whose taste in food and environment was almost +hypercritical, was perfectly happy. She found +the cuisine and the Chianti excellent.</p> + +<p>"We are outstaying every one else," she declared; +"and I don't even mind their awful legacy of tobacco-smoke. +Do you see that the waiter has brought you the +bill, Mr. Strangewey? Prepare for a shock. It is fortunate +that you are a millionaire!"</p> + +<p>John laughed as he paid the bill and ludicrously overtipped +the waiter.</p> + +<p>"London must be a paradise to the poor man!" he +exclaimed. "I have never dined better."</p> + +<p>"Don't overdo it," Sophy begged.</p> + +<p>"I can only judge by results," John insisted. "I +have dined, and I am happy; therefore, the dinner must +have been good."</p> + +<p>"You are so convincing!" Sophy murmured. +"There is such a finality about your statements that I +would not venture to dispute them. But remember that +your future entertainment is in the hands of two women, +one of whom is a deserving but struggling young artist +without the means of gratifying her expensive tastes. +There are heaps of places we are going to take you to +which even Louise pretends she cannot afford. It is so +fortunate, Mr. Strangewey, that you are rich!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 104]</span> +"I believe you would be just as nice to me if I +weren't," John ventured.</p> + +<p>"I am so susceptible!" Sophy sighed, looking into +her empty coffee-cup; "much more susceptible than +Louise."</p> + +<p>"I won't have Mr. Strangewey spoiled," Louise put +in. "And don't build too much upon his being content +with us as entertainers-in-chief. Remember the halfpenny +papers. In a few days he will be interviewed—'Millionaire +Farmer Come to London to Spend His +Fortune.' He will become famous. He will buy a +green morocco engagement-book, and perhaps employ a +secretary. We shall probably have to ask ourselves to +luncheon three weeks ahead."</p> + +<p>"I feel these things coming," John declared.</p> + +<p>"My children," said Louise, rising, "we must remember +that we are going to the Palace. It is quite +time we started."</p> + +<p>They made their way down two flights of narrow +stairs into the street. The commissionnaire raised his +whistle to his lips, but Louise stopped him.</p> + +<p>"We will walk," she suggested. "This way, Mr. +Strangewey!"</p> + +<p>They passed down the long, narrow street, with its +dingy foreign cafés and shops scarcely one of which +seemed to be English. The people who thronged the +pavements were of a new race to John, swarthy, a little +furtive, a class of foreigner seldom seen except in alien +lands. Men and women in all stages of dishabille were +leaning out of the windows or standing on the doorsteps. +The girls whom they met occasionally—young +women of all ages, walking arm in arm, with shawls on +their heads in place of hats—laughed openly in John's +face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 105]</span> +"Conquests everywhere he goes!" Louise sighed. +"We shall never keep him, Sophy!"</p> + +<p>"We have him for this evening, at any rate," Sophy +replied contentedly; "and he hasn't spent all his fortune +yet. I am not at all sure that I shall not hint at +supper when we come out of the Palace."</p> + +<p>"No hint will be necessary," John promised. "I feel +the gnawings of hunger already."</p> + +<p>"A millionaire's first night in London!" Sophy exclaimed. +"I think I shall write it up for the <i>Daily +Mail</i>."</p> + +<p>"A pity he fell into bad hands so quickly," Louise +laughed. "Here we are! Stalls, please, Mr. Millionaire. +I wouldn't be seen to-night in the seats of the +mighty."</p> + +<p>John risked a reproof, however, and was fortunate +enough to find a disengaged box.</p> + +<p>"The tone of the evening," Louise grumbled, as she +settled herself down comfortably, "is lost. This is the +most expensive box in the place."</p> + +<p>"You could restore it by eating an orange," Sophy +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Or even chocolates," John ventured, sweeping most +of the contents of an attendant's tray onto the ledge of +the box.</p> + +<p>"After this," Sophy declared, falling upon them, +"supper will be a farce."</p> + +<p>"Make you thirsty," John reminded her.</p> + +<p>They devoted their attention to the show, Louise and +Sophy at first with only a moderate amount of interest, +John with the real enthusiasm of one to whom everything +is new. His laughter was so hearty, his appreciation +so sincere, that his companions found it infectious, +and began to applaud everything.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 106]</span> +"What children we are!" Louise exclaimed. +"Fancy shrieking with laughter at a ventriloquist whom +I have seen at every music-hall I have been to during the +last five or six years!"</p> + +<p>"He was wonderfully clever, all the same," John insisted.</p> + +<p>"The bioscope," Louise decided firmly, "I refuse to +have anything to do with. You have had all the entertainment +you are going to have this evening, Mr. Countryman."</p> + +<p>"Now for supper, then," he proposed.</p> + +<p>Sophy sighed as she collected the half-empty chocolate-boxes.</p> + +<p>"What a pity I've eaten so many! They'd have +saved me a luncheon to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Greedy child," Louise laughed, "sighing for want +of an appetite! I think we'll insist upon a taxi this +time. I don't like overcrowded streets. Where shall +we take him to, Sophy? You know the supper places +better than I do."</p> + +<p>"Luigi's," Sophy declared firmly. "The only place +in London."</p> + +<p>They drove toward the Strand. John looked around +him with interest as they entered the restaurant.</p> + +<p>"I've been here before," he said, as they passed +through the doors.</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself at once," Louise insisted.</p> + +<p>"It was eight years ago, when I was at Oxford," he +told them. "We were here on the boat-race night. I +remember," he added reminiscently, "that some of us +were turned out. Then we went on to—"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" Louise interrupted sternly. "I am horrified! +The one thing I did not suspect you of, Mr. +Strangewey, was a past."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 107]</span> +"Well, it isn't a very lurid one," he assured them. +"That was very nearly the only evening about town +I have ever been guilty of."</p> + +<p>Luigi, who had come forward to welcome Sophy, escorted +them to one of the best tables.</p> + +<p>"You must be very nice to this gentleman, Luigi," +she said. "He is a very great friend of mine, just arrived +in London. He has come up on purpose to see +me, and we shall probably decide to make this our favorite +restaurant."</p> + +<p>"I shall be vairy happy," Luigi declared, with a bow.</p> + +<p>"I am beginning to regret, Mr. Strangewey, that I +ever introduced you to Sophy," Louise remarked, as she +sank back into her chair. "You won't believe that all +my friends are as frivolous as this, will you?"</p> + +<p>"They aren't," Sophy proclaimed confidently. "I +am the one person who succeeds in keeping Louise with +her feet upon the earth. She has never had supper here +before. Dry biscuits, hot milk, and a volume of poems +are her relaxation after the theater. She takes herself +too seriously."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if I do!" Louise murmured, as she helped +herself to caviar.</p> + +<p>She was suddenly pensive. Her eyes seemed to be +looking out of the restaurant. Sophy was exchanging +amenities with a little party of friends at the next table.</p> + +<p>"One must sometimes be serious," John remarked, +"or life would have no poise at all."</p> + +<p>"I have a friend who scolds me," she confided. +"Sometimes he almost loses patience with me. He declares +that my attitude toward life is too analytical. +When happiness comes my way, I shrink back. I keep +my emotions in the background, while my brain works, +dissecting, wondering, speculating. Perhaps what he +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 108]</span> +says is true. I believe that if one gets into the habit +of analyzing too much, one loses all elasticity of emotion, +the capacity to recognize and embrace the great +things when they come."</p> + +<p>"I think you have been right," John declared earnestly. +"If the great things come as they should +come, they are overwhelming, they will carry you off +your feet. You will forget to speculate and to analyze. +Therefore, I think you have been wise and right to wait. +You have run no risk of having to put up with the lesser +things."</p> + +<p>She leaned toward him across the rose-shaded table. +For those few seconds they seemed to have been brought +into a wonderfully intimate communion of thought. A +wave of her hair almost touched his forehead. His +hand boldly rested upon her fingers.</p> + +<p>"You talk," she whispered, "as if we were back upon +your hilltops once more!"</p> + +<p>He turned his head toward the little orchestra, which +was playing a low and tremulous waltz tune.</p> + +<p>"I want to believe," he said, "that you can listen to +the music here and yet live upon the hilltops."</p> + +<p>"You believe that it is possible?"</p> + +<p>"I do indeed," he assured her. "Although my heart +was almost sick with loneliness, I do not think that I +should be here if I did not believe it. I have not come +for anything else, for any lesser things, but to find—"</p> + +<p>For once his courage failed him. For once, too, he +failed to understand her expression. She had drawn +back a little, her lips were quivering. Sophy broke +suddenly in upon that moment of suspended speech.</p> + +<p>"I knew how it would be!" she exclaimed. "I leave +you both alone for less than a minute, and there you sit, +as grave as two owls. I ask you, now, is this the place +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 109]</span> +to wander off into the clouds? When two people sit +looking at each other as you were doing a minute ago, +here in Luigi's, at midnight, with champagne in their +glasses, and a supper, ordered regardless of expense, on +the table before them, they are either without the least +sense of the fitness of things, or else—"</p> + +<p>"Or else what?" Louise asked.</p> + +<p>"Or else they are head over heels in love with each +other!" Sophy concluded.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the child is right," Louise assented tolerantly, +taking a peach from the basket by her side. +"Evidently it is our duty to abandon ourselves to the +frivolity of the moment. What shall we do to bring +ourselves into accord with it? Everybody seems to be +behaving most disgracefully. Do you think it would +contribute to the gaiety of the evening if I were to join +in the chorus of 'You Made Me Love You,' and Mr. +Strangewey were to imitate the young gentleman at the +next table and throw a roll, say, at that portly old +gentleman with the highly polished shirt-front?"</p> + +<p>"There is no need to go to extremes," Sophy protested. +"Besides, we should get into trouble. The +portly old gentleman happens to be one of the directors."</p> + +<p>"Then we will just talk nonsense," Louise suggested.</p> + +<p>"I am not very good at it," John sighed; "and there +is so much I want to say that isn't nonsense."</p> + +<p>"You ought to be thankful all your life that you have +met me and that I am disposed to take an interest in +you," Sophy remarked, as she moved her chair a little +nearer to John's. "I am quite sure that in a very +short time you would have become—well, almost a prig. +Providence has selected me to work out your salvation."</p> + +<p>"Providence has been very kind, then," John told her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 110]</span> +"I hope you mean it," she returned. "You ought +to, if you only understood the importance of light-heartedness."</p> + +<p>The lights were lowered a few minutes later, and John +paid the bill.</p> + +<p>"We've enjoyed our supper," Louise whispered, as +they passed down the room. "The whole evening has +been delightful!"</p> + +<p>"May I drive you home alone?" he asked bluntly.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid we can't desert Sophy," she replied, +avoiding his eyes. "She nearly always goes home with +me. You see, although she seems quite a frivolous little +person, she is really very useful to me—keeps my +accounts, and all that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"And does her best," Sophy joined in, "to protect +you against your ruinously extravagant habits!"</p> + +<p>Louise laughed. They were standing in the little +hall, and the commissionnaire was blowing his whistle +for a taxi.</p> + +<p>"I won't be scolded to-night," she declared. "Come, +you shall both of you drive home with me, and then Mr. +Strangewey can drop you at your rooms on his way +back."</p> + +<p>Sophy made a little grimace and glanced up at John +anxiously. He was looking very big and very grim.</p> + +<p>"Shall you mind that?" she asked.</p> + +<p>A slight plaintiveness in her tone dispelled his first +disappointment. After all, it was Louise's decision.</p> + +<p>"I will try to bear it cheerfully," he promised, smiling, +as he handed them into the cab.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 111]</span></p> + +<h2>XII</h2> + +<p>As they drove from Luigi's to Knightsbridge, Louise +leaned back in her corner. Although her eyes were +only half closed, there was an air of aloofness about her, +an obvious lack of desire for conversation, which the +others found themselves instinctively respecting. Even +Sophy's light-hearted chatter seemed to have deserted +her, somewhat to John's relief.</p> + +<p>He sat back in his place, his eyes fixed upon Louise. +He was so anxious to understand her in all her moods +and vagaries. He was forced to admit to himself that +she had deliberately chosen not to take any portion of +that drive home alone with him. And yet, as he looked +back through the evening, he told himself that he was +satisfied. He declined to feel even a shadow of discouragement.</p> + +<p>After a time he withdrew his eyes from her face and +looked out upon the human panorama through which +they were passing.</p> + +<p>They were in the very vortex of London's midnight +traffic. The night was warm for the time of year, and +about Leicester Square and beyond the pavements were +crowded with pedestrians, the women lightly and gaily +clad, flitting, notwithstanding some sinister note about +their movements, like butterflies or bright-hued moths +along the pavements and across the streets. The procession +of taxicabs and automobiles, each with its human +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 112]</span> +freight of men and women in evening dress on their way +home after an evening's pleasure, seemed endless.</p> + +<p>Presently Sophy began to talk, and Louise, too, +roused herself.</p> + +<p>"I am only just beginning to realize," the latter said, +"that you are actually in London."</p> + +<p>"When I leave you," he replied, "I, too, shall find it +hard to believe that we have actually met again and +talked. There seems to be so much that I have to say," +he added, looking at her closely, "and I have said nothing."</p> + +<p>"There is plenty of time," she told him, and once +more the signs of that slight nervousness were apparent +in her manner. "There are weeks and months ahead +of us."</p> + +<p>"When shall I see you again?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Whenever you like. There are no rehearsals for +a day or two. Ring me up on the telephone—you will +find my number in the book—or come and lunch with +me to-morrow, if you like."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he answered; "that is just what I +should like. At what time?"</p> + +<p>"Half past one. I will not ask either of you to come +in now. You can come down to-morrow morning and +get the books, Sophy. I think I am tired—tired," she +added, with a curious little note of self-pity in her tone. +"I am very glad to have seen you again, Mr. Strangewey," +she said, lifting her eyes to his. "Good night!"</p> + +<p>He helped her out, rang the bell, and watched her +vanish through the swiftly opened door. Then he +stepped back into the taxicab. Sophy retreated into +the corner to make room for him.</p> + +<p>"You are going to take me home, are you not?" she +asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 113]</span> +"Of course," he replied, his eyes still fixed with a +shade of regret upon the closed door of Louise's little +house. "No. 10 Southampton Street," he told the +driver.</p> + +<p>They turned round and spun once more into the network +of moving vehicles and streaming pedestrians. +John was silent, and his companion, for a little while, +humored him. Soon, however, she touched him on the +arm.</p> + +<p>"This is still your first night in London," she reminded +him, "and there is to-morrow. You are going +to lunch with her to-morrow. Won't you talk to me, +please?"</p> + +<p>He shut the door upon a crowd of disturbing +thoughts and fantastic imaginings, and smiled back at +her. Her fingers remained upon his arm. A queer +gravity had come into her dainty little face.</p> + +<p>"Are you really in love with Louise?" she inquired, +with something of his own directness.</p> + +<p>He answered her with perfect seriousness.</p> + +<p>"I believe so," he admitted, "but I should not like +to say that I am absolutely certain. I have come here +to find out."</p> + +<p>Sophy suddenly rocked with laughter.</p> + +<p>"You are the dearest, queerest madman I have ever +met!" she exclaimed, holding tightly to his arm. +"You sit there with a face as long as a fiddle, wondering +whether you are in love with a girl or not! Well, I am +not going to ask you anything more. Tell me, are you +tired?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," he declared. "I never had such a ripping +evening in my life."</p> + +<p>She held his arm a little tighter. She was the old +Sophy again, full of life and gaiety.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 114]</span> +"Let's go to the Aldwych," she suggested, "and see +the dancing. We can just have something to drink. +We needn't have any more supper."</p> + +<p>"Rather!" he assented readily. "But where is it, +and what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Just a supper club," she told him. "Tell the man +No. 19 Kean Street. What fun! I haven't been there +for weeks."</p> + +<p>"What about my clothes?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You'll be all right," she assured him. "You're +quite a nice-looking person, and the manager is a friend +of mine."</p> + +<p>The cab stopped a few minutes later outside what +seemed to be a private house except for the presence of +a commissionnaire upon the pavement. The door was +opened at once, and John was relieved of his hat and +stick by a cloak-room attendant. Sophy wrote his +name in a book, and they were ushered by the manager, +who had come forward to greet them, into a long room, +brilliantly lit, and filled, except in the center, with supper-tables.</p> + +<p>They selected one near the wall and close to the open +space in which, at the present moment, a man and a +woman were dancing. The floor was of hardwood, and +there was a little raised platform for the orchestra. +John looked around him wonderingly. The popping +of champagne corks was almost incessant. A slightly +voluptuous atmosphere of cigarette-smoke, mingled +with the perfumes shaken from the clothes and hair +of the women, several more of whom were now dancing, +hung about the place. A girl in fancy dress +was passing a great basket of flowers from table to +table.</p> + +<p>Sophy sat with her head resting upon her hands and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 115]</span> +her face very close to her companion's, keeping time +with her feet to the music.</p> + +<p>"Isn't this rather nice?" she whispered. "Do you +like being here with me, Mr. John Strangewey?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," he answered heartily. "Is this a +restaurant?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, it's a club. We can sit here all night, if you +like."</p> + +<p>"Can I join?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She laughed as she bent for a form and made him fill +it in.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he begged, as he looked around him, "who +are these girls? They look so pretty and well dressed, +and yet so amazingly young to be out at this time of +night."</p> + +<p>"Mostly actresses," she replied, "and musical-comedy +girls. I was in musical comedy myself before Louise +rescued me."</p> + +<p>"Did you like it?"</p> + +<p>"I liked it all right," she admitted, "but I left it because +I wasn't doing any good. I can dance pretty +well, but I have no voice, so there didn't seem to be any +chance of my getting out of the chorus; and one can't +even pretend to live on the salary they pay you, unless +one has a part."</p> + +<p>"But these girls who are here to-night?"</p> + +<p>"They are with their friends, of course," she told +him. "I suppose, if it hadn't been for Louise, I should +have been here, too—with a friend."</p> + +<p>"I should like to see you dance," he remarked, in a +hurry to change the conversation.</p> + +<p>"I'll dance to you some day in your rooms, if you +like," she promised. "Or would you like me to dance +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 116]</span> +here? There is a man opposite who wants me to. +Would you rather I didn't? I want to do just which +would please you most."</p> + +<p>"Dance, by all means," he insisted. "I should like +to watch you."</p> + +<p>She nodded, and a minute or two later she had joined +the small crowd in the center of the room, clasped in +the arms of a very immaculate young man who had risen +and bowed to her from a table opposite. John leaned +back in his place and watched her admiringly. Her +feet scarcely touched the ground. She never once +glanced at or spoke to her partner, but every time she +passed the corner where John was sitting, she looked at +him and smiled.</p> + +<p>He, for his part, watched her no longer with pleasant +interest, but with almost fascinated eyes. The +spirit of the place was creeping into his blood. His +long years of seclusion seemed like a spell of time lying +curiously far away, a crude period, mislived in an atmosphere +which, notwithstanding its austere sweetness, +took no account of the human cry. He refilled his glass +with champagne and deliberately drank its contents. +It was splendid to feel so young and strong, to feel the +wine in his veins, his pulse and his heart moving to this +new measure!</p> + +<p>His eyes grew brighter, and he smiled back at Sophy. +She suddenly released her hold upon her partner and +stretched out her arms to him. Her body swayed backward +a little. She waved her hands with a gesture infinitely +graceful, subtly alluring. Her lips were parted +with a smile almost of triumph as she once more rested +her hand upon her partner's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Who is your escort this evening?" the latter asked +her, speaking almost for the first time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 117]</span> +"You would not know him," she replied. "He is a +Mr. John Strangewey, and he comes from Cumberland."</p> + +<p>"Just happens that I do know him," the young man +remarked. "Thought I'd seen his face somewhere. +Used to be up at the varsity with him. We once played +rackets together. Hasn't he come into a pile just +lately?"</p> + +<p>"An uncle in Australia left him a fortune."</p> + +<p>"I'll speak to him presently," the young man decided. +"Always make a point of being civil to anybody +with lots of oof!"</p> + +<p>"I expect he'll be glad to meet you again," Sophy remarked. +"He doesn't know a soul in town."</p> + +<p>The dance was finished. They returned together to +where John was sitting, and the young man held out a +weary hand.</p> + +<p>"Amerton, you know, of Magdalen," he said. +"You're Strangewey, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Amerton, of course!" John exclaimed. "I +thought your face was familiar. Why, we played in +the rackets doubles together!"</p> + +<p>"And won 'em, thanks to you," Amerton replied. +"Are you up for long?"</p> + +<p>"I am not quite sure," John told him. "I only arrived +last night."</p> + +<p>"Look me up some time, if you've nothing better to +do," the young man suggested. "Where are you hanging +out?"</p> + +<p>"The Milan."</p> + +<p>"I am at the Albany. So-long! Must get back to +my little lady."</p> + +<p>He bowed to Sophy and departed. She sank a little +breathlessly into her chair and laid her hand on John's +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 118]</span> +arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her bosom was rising +and falling quickly.</p> + +<p>"I am out of breath," she said, her head thrown +back, perilously near to John's shoulder. "Lord Amerton +dances so well. Give me some champagne!"</p> + +<p>"And you—you dance divinely," he told her, as he +filled her glass.</p> + +<p>"If we were alone," she whispered, "I should want +you to kiss me!"</p> + +<p>The stem of the wine-glass in John's fingers snapped +suddenly, and the wine trickled down to the floor. A +passing waiter hurried up with a napkin, and a fresh +glass was brought. The affair was scarcely noticed, +but John remained disturbed and a little pale.</p> + +<p>"Have you cut your hand?" Sophy asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he assured her. "How hot it is here! +Do you mind if we go?"</p> + +<p>"Go?" she exclaimed disconsolately. "I thought +you were enjoying yourself so much!"</p> + +<p>"So I am," he answered, "but I don't quite understand—"</p> + +<p>He paused.</p> + +<p>"Understand what?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Myself, if you must know."</p> + +<p>She set down the glass which she had been in the act +of raising to her lips.</p> + +<p>"How queer you are!" she murmured. "Listen. +You haven't got a wife or anything up in Cumberland, +have you?"</p> + +<p>"You know I haven't," he answered.</p> + +<p>"You're not engaged to be married, you have no ties, +you came up here perfectly free, you haven't even said +anything yet—to Louise?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 119]</span> +"Of course not."</p> + +<p>"Well, then—" she began.</p> + +<p>Her words were so softly spoken that they seemed +to melt away. She leaned forward to look in his face.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he begged, with sudden and almost passionate +earnestness, "be kind to me, please! I am just +a simple, stupid countryman, who feels as if he had lost +his way. I have lived a solitary sort of life—an unnatural +one, you would say—and I've been brought up +with some old-fashioned ideas. I know they are old-fashioned, +but I can't throw them overboard all at once. +I have kept away from this sort of thing. I didn't +think it would ever attract me—I suppose because I +didn't believe it could be made so attractive. I have +suddenly found out—that it does!"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"There is only one thing for me to do," he answered. +"Until I know what I have come to London to learn, I +shall fight against it."</p> + +<p>"You mean about Louise?"</p> + +<p>"I mean about Louise," he said gravely.</p> + +<p>Sophy came still closer to him. Her voice was as +soft as the lightest, finest note of music, trembling a little +with that one thread of passion. She seemed so +dainty, so quiet and sweet, that for a moment he found +himself able to imagine that it was all a dream; that +hers was just one of those fairy, disquieting voices that +floated about on the summer breeze and rippled along +the valleys and hillsides of his Cumberland home. Then, +swift as the fancy itself, came the warm touch of her +hand upon his, the lure of her voice once more, with +its trembling cadence.</p> + +<p>"Why are you so foolish?" she murmured. "Louise +is very wonderful in her place, but she is not what +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 120]</span> +you want in life. Has it never occurred to you that +you may be too late?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"I believe what the world believes, what some day I +think she will admit to herself—that she cares for the +Prince of Seyre."</p> + +<p>"Has she ever told you so?"</p> + +<p>"Louise never speaks of these things to any living +soul. I am only telling you what I think. I am trying +to save you pain—trying for my own sake as well +as yours."</p> + +<p>He paid his bill and stooped to help her with her +cloak. Her heart sank, her lips quivered a little. It +seemed to her that he had passed to a great distance.</p> + +<p>"Very soon," John said, "I shall ask Louise to tell +me the truth. I think that I shall ask her, if I can, to-morrow!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 121]</span></p> + +<h2>XIII</h2> + +<p>John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a surprise +to him. He was sitting smoking an after-breakfast +pipe on the following morning, and gazing at the +telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the +door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside.</p> + +<p>"I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter began.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his +mouth and throwing open the door. "It is very good +of you to come and see me."</p> + +<p>The prince followed John into the little sitting room. +He was dressed, as usual, with scrupulous care. His +white linen gaiters were immaculate, his trousers were +perfectly creased, the hang of his coat had engaged the +care of an artist. His tie was of a deep shade of violet, +fastened with a wonderful pearl, and his fingers were +perhaps a trifle overmanicured. He wore a bunch of +Parma violets in his buttonhole, and he carried with him +a very faint but unusual perfume, which seemed to John +like the odor of delicate green tea. It was just these +details, and the slowness of his speech, which alone accentuated +his foreign origin.</p> + +<p>"It occurred to me," he said, as he seated himself in +an easy chair, "that if you are really intending to +make this experiment in town life of which Miss Maurel +spoke, I might be of some assistance to you. There are +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 122]</span> +certain matters, quite unimportant in themselves, concerning +which a little advice in the beginning may save +you trouble."</p> + +<p>"Very good of you, I am sure," John repeated. +"To tell you the truth, I was just looking through the +telephone directory to see if I could come across the +name of a tailor I used to have some things from."</p> + +<p>"If it pleases you to place yourself in my hands," +the prince suggested, "I will introduce you to my own +tradespeople. I have made the selection with some +care."</p> + +<p>"That will suit me admirably," John declared. "If +you will just give me the addresses—I couldn't think +of taking up your time."</p> + +<p>"I have, fortunately, an idle morning," the prince +said, "and it is entirely at your disposal. At half past +one I believe we are both lunching with Miss Maurel."</p> + +<p>John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoyance. +His <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Louise seemed farther off +than ever. At the prince's suggestion, however, he +fetched his hat and gloves and entered the former's automobile, +which was waiting below.</p> + +<p>"Miss Maurel!" the prince remarked, as they glided +off westward, "is, I believe, inviting a few friends to +meet you. If you would feel more comfortable in town +clothes, I think the tailor to whom I am taking you will +be able to arrange that. He makes special preparations +for such emergencies."</p> + +<p>"I will do what you think best," John agreed.</p> + +<p>They spent the morning in the neighborhood of Bond +Street, and John laid the foundations of a wardrobe +more extensive than any he had ever dreamed of possessing. +At half past one they were shown into Louise's +little dressing room. There were three or four +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 123]</span> +men already present, standing around their hostess and +sipping some faint yellow cordial from long Venetian +glasses.</p> + +<p>Louise came forward to meet them, and made a little +grimace as she remarked the change in John's appearance.</p> + +<p>"Honestly, I don't know you, and I don't believe I +like you at all!" she exclaimed. "How dare you transform +yourself into a tailor's dummy in this fashion?"</p> + +<p>"It was entirely out of respect to you," John said.</p> + +<p>"In fact," the prince added, "we considered that we +had achieved rather a success."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must look upon your effort as a compliment," +Louise sighed, "but it seems queer to lose +even so much of you. Shall you take up our manners +and our habits, Mr. Strangewey, as easily as you wear +our clothes?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot promise," he replied.</p> + +<p>"The brain should adapt itself at least as readily as +the body," the prince remarked.</p> + +<p>M. Graillot, who was one of the three men present, +turned around.</p> + +<p>"Who is talking platitudes?" he demanded. "I +write plays, and that is my monopoly. Ah, it is the +prince, I see! And our young friend who interrupted +us at rehearsal yesterday."</p> + +<p>"And whom I am anxious to have you meet again," +Louise intervened. "You remember his name, perhaps—Mr. +John Strangewey."</p> + +<p>Graillot held out his left hand to the prince and his +right to John.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," he said, "I congratulate you! +Any person who has the good fortune to interest Miss +Maurel is to be congratulated. Yet must I look at you +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 124]</span> +and feel myself puzzled. You are not an artist—no? +You do not paint or write?"</p> + +<p>John shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey's claim to distinction is that he is +just an ordinary man," Louise observed. "Such a relief, +you know, after all you clever people! And that +reminds me, Miles," she added, turning to the actor, "I +asked you here, too, especially to meet Mr. Strangewey +again. Mr. Faraday is one of the most dangerous +guides in London a young man could have. He knows +everybody and everything unknowable and yet worth +knowing. I present him to you as a hero. He is going +to make love to me three hours a night for very many +nights, we hope."</p> + +<p>John shook hands with everybody and sipped the contents +of the glass which had been handed to him. Then +a butler opened the door and announced luncheon. +Louise offered her hand to the prince, who stepped back.</p> + +<p>"It shall be the privilege of the stranger within our +gates," he decided.</p> + +<p>Louise turned to John with a little smile.</p> + +<p>"Let me show you, then, the way to my dining room. +I ought to apologize for not asking some women to meet +you. I tried two on the telephone, but they were engaged."</p> + +<p>"I will restore the balance," the prince promised, +turning from the contemplation of one of the prints +hanging in the hall. "I am giving a supper party to-night +for Mr. Strangewey, and I will promise him a preponderance +of your charming sex."</p> + +<p>"Am I invited?" Louise inquired.</p> + +<p>The prince shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Alas, no!"</p> + +<p>They passed into a small dining room, and here again +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 125]</span> +John noticed that an absolute simplicity was paramount. +The carpet was of some dark, almost indistinguishable +color. The walls were white, hung with +three or four French etchings in black reed frames. +At one end a curved window looked out upon a vista of +green trees and shrubs, and the recess was completely +filled in with what appeared to be almost a grotto of +flowers. The round table, covered with an exquisitely +fine cloth, was very simply laid. There was a little +glass of the finest quality, and a very little silver. For +flowers there was only one bowl, a brilliant patch of +some scarlet exotic, in the center.</p> + +<p>"A supper party to which I am not invited," said +Louise, as she took her place at the table and motioned +John to a seat by her side, "fills me with curiosity. +Who are to be your guests, prince?"</p> + +<p>"Calavera and her sprites," the prince announced.</p> + +<p>Louise paused for a moment in the act of helping herself +to <i>hors d'oeuvres</i>. She glanced toward the prince. +He was busy studying the menu through his eyeglass.</p> + +<p>"By her sprites you mean—"</p> + +<p>"The young ladies of her wonderful ballet," the +prince replied. "I am also dipping into musical comedy +for a few of my guests. Calavera, however, is to +be the <i>pièce de résistance</i>."</p> + +<p>The prince dropped his eye-glass and glanced toward +his hostess. For a moment their eyes met. Louise's +lips were faintly curled. It was almost as if a challenge +had passed between them.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," she said, turning to John, "let +me warn you. You are to meet to-night a woman for +whom kings are reported to sigh in vain, at whose feet +the <i>jeunesse dorée</i> of the world pours out its riches. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 126]</span> +Is it kind of the prince, I wonder, to try and seal your +fate so soon?"</p> + +<p>John laughed easily. He met the challenge in her +eyes and answered it.</p> + +<p>"If you are talking of the great Calavera," he said, +"she will be far too wonderful a lady to take any notice +of a yokel like myself. And besides—"</p> + +<p>"Besides?" the prince intervened.</p> + +<p>"I have only seen her photographs and read of her," +John remarked, "but I don't think she would attract +me very much."</p> + +<p>They all laughed. Graillot leaned across the table.</p> + +<p>"My young friend," he exclaimed, "pray to your +presiding genius, the presiding genius that won for you +the friendship of our hostess, that Calavera never hears +that speech, or within a week you will be at her chariot-wheels! +I have seen many women and loved many, but +there are none like Calavera. In her way she is the +greatest artist that ever breathed. As for her beauty, +wait till you see her! She has a body which makes me +close my eyes and dream of Greece; eyes such as one +seldom sees save in a few parts of southern Spain; and +as for her smile—well, if I go on I shall begin to tell +stories of her victims and neglect my lunch."</p> + +<p>The conversation drifted away to reminiscences of +other great dancers. Louise, under its cover, devoted +her attention to her guest,</p> + +<p>"First of all," she asked, "tell me how you like my +little friend?"</p> + +<p>"I think she is charming," John answered without +hesitation. "We went to a supper club last night and +stayed there till about half past three."</p> + +<p>"A supper club?"</p> + +<p>John nodded.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 127]</span> +"I have forgotten the name of the place, but they +made me a member. It was great fun. We had some +more champagne, and Sophy danced. I found a young +man there whom I used to know."</p> + +<p>"Really," said Louise, "I am not sure that I approve +of this! A supper club with Sophy until half +past three in the morning!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her quickly.</p> + +<p>"You don't mind?"</p> + +<p>"My dear man, why should I mind?" she returned. +"What concern is it of mine if you and Sophy care +to amuse each other? It is exactly what I hoped +for."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, then," John declared, with a sigh +of relief. "Do you know," he went on, lowering his +voice, "that I am just a little disappointed about today?"</p> + +<p>"Disappointed? After I have taken the trouble to +give a luncheon party for you?"</p> + +<p>"I should have thought it a greater compliment, and +liked it better, if you had asked me to lunch with you +alone," he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"It would have been a wasted opportunity. You +have come up to London with a purpose. You have an +experiment to make, an experiment in living. All these +men can help you."</p> + +<p>"The greater part of my experiment," he pointed +out, "needs the help of only one person, and that person +is you."</p> + +<p>She moved a little uneasily in her chair. It might +have been his fancy, but he imagined that she glanced +under her eyelids toward the Prince of Seyre. The +prince, however, had turned almost ostentatiously away +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 128]</span> +from her. He was leaning across the table, talking to +Faraday.</p> + +<p>"You have not lost your gift of plain speech," she +observed.</p> + +<p>"I hope I never shall," he declared. "It seems to +me to be the simplest and the best plan, after all, to say +what you feel and to ask for what you want."</p> + +<p>"So delightful in Cumberland and Utopia," she +sighed; "so impracticable here!"</p> + +<p>"Then since we can't find Utopia, come back to Cumberland," +he suggested.</p> + +<p>A reminiscent smile played for a moment about her +lips.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I shall ever +again see that dear, wonderful old house of yours, and +the mist on the hills, and the stars shining here and +there through it, and the moon coming up in the distance!"</p> + +<p>"All these things you will see again," he assured her +confidently. "It is because I want you to see them +again that I am here."</p> + +<p>"Just now, at this minute, I feel a longing for them," +she whispered, looking across the table, out of the window, +to the softly waving trees.</p> + +<p>At the close of the luncheon, a servant handed around +coffee and liqueurs. The prince turned to Louise.</p> + +<p>"You must not keep our young friend too late," he +said. "He has appointments with his tailor and other +myrmidons who have undertaken to adorn his person."</p> + +<p>"Alas," replied Louise, rising, "I, too, have to go +early to my dressmaker's. Do the honors for me, +prince, will you?—and I will make my adieus now."</p> + +<p>They all rose. She nodded to Graillot and Faraday. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 129]</span> +The prince moved to stand by the door. For a moment +she and John were detached from the others.</p> + +<p>"I want to see you alone," he said under his breath. +"When can I?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I am so busy!" she murmured. "Next week there +are rehearsals nearly every minute of the day."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," John said insistently. "You have +no rehearsals then. I must see you. I must talk to +you without this crowd."</p> + +<p>It was his moment. Her half-formed resolutions fell +away before the compelling ring in his voice and the +earnest pleading in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I will be in," she promised, "to-morrow at six +o'clock."</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 130]</span></p> + +<h2>XIV</h2> + +<p>After the departure of her guests, Louise seemed to +forget the pressing appointment with her dressmaker. +She stood before the window of her drawing-room, looking +down into the street. She saw Faraday hail a taxicab +and drive off by himself. She watched the prince +courteously motion John to precede him into his waiting +automobile. She saw the two men seat themselves +side by side, and the footman close the door and take +his place beside the chauffeur. She watched until the +car took its place in the stream of traffic and disappeared. +The sense of uneasiness which had brought +her to the window was unaccountable, but it seemed in +some way deepened by their departure together. Then +a voice from just behind suddenly startled her.</p> + +<p>"Lest your reverie, dear lady, should end in spoken +words not meant for my ears, I, who often give myself +up to reveries, hasten to acquaint you with the fact of +my presence."</p> + +<p>She turned quickly around. It was Graillot who had +returned noiselessly into the room.</p> + +<p>"You?" she exclaimed. "Why, I thought you were +the first to leave."</p> + +<p>"I returned," Graillot explained. "An impulse +brought me back. A thought came into my mind. I +wanted to share it with you as a proof of the sentiment +which I feel exists between us. It is my firm belief that +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 131]</span> +the same thought, in a different guise, was traveling +through your mind, as you watched the departure of +your guests."</p> + +<p>She motioned him to a place upon the couch, close +to where she had already seated herself.</p> + +<p>"Come," she invited, "prove to me that you are a +thought-reader!"</p> + +<p>He sank back in his corner. His hands, with their +short, stubby fingers, were clasped in front of him. +His eyes, wide open and alert, seemed fixed upon her +with the ingenuous inquisitiveness of a child.</p> + +<p>"To begin, then, I find our friend, the Prince of +Seyre, a most interesting, I might almost say a most +fascinating, study."</p> + +<p>Louise did not reply. After a moment's pause he +continued:</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you something which may or may not be +unknown to you. A matter of eighty years ago, there +was first kindled in the country places of France that +fire which ultimately blazed over the whole land, devastating, +murderous, anarchic, yet purifying. The family +seat of the house of Seyre was near Orléans. In +that region were many oppressors of the poor who, +when they heard the mutterings of the storm, shivered +for their safety. Upon not one of them did that furious +mob of men and women pause to waste a single moment +of their time. Without even a spoken word save +one simultaneous, unanimous yell, they grouped together +from all quarters—from every hamlet, from +every homestead, men and women and even children—and +moved in one solid body upon the Château de Seyre. +The old prince would have been burned alive but for a +servant who threw him a pistol, with which he blew out +his brains, spitting at the mob. One of the sons was +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 132]</span> +caught and torn almost to pieces. Only the father of +our friend, the present Prince of Seyre, escaped."</p> + +<p>"Why do you tell me all this?" Louise asked, shivering. +"It is such a chapter of horrors!"</p> + +<p>"It illustrates a point," Graillot replied. "Among +the whole aristocracy of France there was no family so +loathed and detested as the <i>seigneurs</i> of Seyre. Those +at the <i>château</i>, and others who were arrested in Paris, +met their death with singular contempt and calm. Eugène +of Seyre, whose character in my small way I have +studied, is of the same breed."</p> + +<p>Louise took up a fan which lay on the table by her +side, and waved it carelessly in front of her face.</p> + +<p>"One does so love," she murmured, "to hear one's +friends discussed in this friendly spirit!"</p> + +<p>"It is because Eugène of Seyre is a friend of yours +that I am talking to you in this fashion," Graillot continued. +"You have also another friend—this young +man from Cumberland."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"In him," Graillot went on, "one perceives all the +primitive qualities which go to the making of splendid +manhood. Physically he is almost perfect, for which +alone we owe him a debt of gratitude. He has, if I +judge him rightly, all the qualities possessed by men +who have been brought up free from the taint of cities, +from the smear of our spurious over-civilization. He +is chivalrous and unsuspicious. He is also, unfortunately +for him, the enemy of the prince."</p> + +<p>Louise laid down her fan. She no longer tried to +conceal her agitation.</p> + +<p>"Why are you so melodramatic?" she demanded. +"They have scarcely spoken. This is, I think, their +third meeting."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 133]</span> +"When two friends," Graillot declared, "desire the +same woman, then all of friendship that there may have +been between them is buried. When two others, who +are so far from being friends that they possess opposite +qualities, opposite characters, opposite characteristics, +also desire the same woman—"</p> + +<p>"Don't!" Louise interrupted, with a sudden little +scream. "Don't! You are talking wildly. You must +not say such things!"</p> + +<p>Graillot leaned forward. He shook his head very +slowly; his heavy hand rested upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no, dear lady," he insisted, "I am not talking +wildly. I am Graillot, who for thirty years have written +dramas on one subject and one subject only—men +and women. It has been given to me to study many +varying types of the human race, to watch the outcome +of many strange situations. I have watched the prince +draw you nearer and nearer to him. What there is or +may be between you I do not know. It is not for me +to know. But if not now, some day Eugène of Seyre +means you to be his, and he is not a person to be lightly +resisted. Now from the skies there looms up this sudden +obstacle."</p> + +<p>"You do not realize," Louise protested, almost +eagerly, "how slight is my acquaintance with Mr. +Strangewey. I once spent the night and a few hours +of the next morning at his house in Cumberland, and +that is all I have ever seen of him. How can his presence +here be of any serious import to Eugène?"</p> + +<p>"As to that," Graillot replied, "I say nothing. If +what I have suggested does not exist, then for the first +time in my life I have made a mistake; but I do not +think I have. You may not realize it, but there is before +you one of those struggles that make or mar the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 134]</span> +life of women of every age. As for the men, I will only +say this, and it is because of it that I have spoken at +all—I am a lover of fair play, and the struggle is not +even. The younger man may hold every card in the +pack, but Eugène of Seyre has learned how to win tricks +without aces. I stayed behind to say this to you, Louise. +You know the young man and I do not. It is you +who must warn him."</p> + +<p>"Warn him?" Louise repeated, with upraised eyebrows. +"Dear master, aren't we just a little—do +you—melodramatic? The age of duels is past, also +the age of hired bravos and assassins."</p> + +<p>"Agreed," Graillot interrupted, "but the weapons +of to-day are more dangerous. It is the souls of their +enemies that men attack. If I were a friend of that +young man's I would say to him: 'Beware, not of the +enmity of Eugène of Seyre, but of his friendship!' +And now, dear lady, I have finished. I lingered behind +because the world holds no more sincere admirer of +yourself and your genius than I. Don't ring. May I +not let myself out?"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" Louise begged.</p> + +<p>Graillot resumed his seat. He watched with an almost +painful curiosity the changes in Louise's face, +which was convulsed by a storm of passionate apprehension. +Yet behind it all he could see the truth. +There was something softer in her face than he had +ever perceived before, a tenderer light than he had ever +seen in her eyes. He sighed and looked down at the +carpet.</p> + +<p>Louise rose presently and walked abruptly to the +window. Then she came back and reseated herself by +his side.</p> + +<p>"You are the one friend I have in life who understands, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 135]</span> +dear master," she said. "Do I weary you if I +speak?"</p> + +<p>He looked steadfastly into her eyes. His plain, +bearded face was heavy-browed, lined, tired a little with +the coming of age.</p> + +<p>"Louise," he declared, "it is only because I dare not +lift my thoughts and eyes any higher that I count myself +the greatest friend you ever could have in life!"</p> + +<p>She caught at his hand, her head drooped a little.</p> + +<p>"Don't overpower me," she faltered. "I can't—no, +I can't!"</p> + +<p>He watched in silence the twitching of her lips, the +filling of her eyes. A momentary remorse struck him. +Why should he afflict her at this moment with his own +secret? He closed his eyes, and deliberately shut out +the vision which had lured his tongue into the byways +of unwonted sentiment. He spoke firmly and without +emotion.</p> + +<p>"Louise," he begged, "let me be your confidant! +No man knows more of the game of life as it is played +out between men and women. There is no one in whom +you can place a greater trust."</p> + +<p>Her fingers clutched his, her nails dug into his palm, +but he did not flinch.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," she murmured, her voice trembling +with agitation. "That is the truth of it all. I do not +know where to go for guidance or inspiration. Life +has suddenly become mysterious. Men seem always so +strong and sure. It is only we poor women who lose +our bearings."</p> + +<p>Graillot patted her hands tenderly. Then he rose to +his feet.</p> + +<p>"You are not going?" she asked him.</p> + +<p>"Dear Louise," he said, "I am going, because the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 136]</span> +time when I can help is not yet. Listen! More harm +has been done in this world by advice than in any other +way. I have no advice to give you. You have one +sure and certain guide, and that is your own heart, your +own instincts, your own sweet consciousness of what is +best. I leave you to that. If trouble comes, I am always +ready!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 137]</span></p> + +<h2>XV</h2> + +<p>During the remainder of that afternoon and evening +John was oppressed by a vague sense of the splendor of +his surroundings and his companion's mysterious capacity +for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to +the tailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot-makers +almost resembled a royal progress. All difficulties +were waved aside. That night he dined, clothed +like other men from head to foot, in the lofty dining +room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. +The prince proved an agreeable if somewhat reticent +companion. He introduced John to many well-known +people, always with that little note of personal interest +in his few words of presentation which gave a certain +significance to the ceremony.</p> + +<p>From the club, where the question of John's proposed +membership, the prince acting as his sponsor, was favorably +discussed with several members of the committee, +they drove to Covent Garden, and for the first time +in his life John entered the famous opera-house. The +prince, preceded by an attendant, led the way to a box +upon the second tier. A woman turned her head as +they entered and stretched out her hand, which the +prince raised to his lips.</p> + +<p>"You see, I have taken you at your word, Eugène," +she remarked. "So many evenings I have looked longingly +from my stall at your empty box. To-night I +summoned up all my courage, and here I am!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 138]</span> +"You give me a double pleasure, dear lady," the +prince declared. "Not only is it a joy to be your host, +but you give me also the opportunity of presenting to +you my friend, John Strangewey. Strangewey, this is +my very distant relative and very dear friend, Lady +Hilda Mulloch."</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda smiled graciously at John. She was apparently +of a little less than middle age, with dark +bands of chestnut hair surmounted by a tiara. Her +face was the face of a clever and still beautiful woman; +her figure slender and dignified; her voice low and delightful.</p> + +<p>"Are you paying your nightly homage to Calavera, +Mr. Strangewey, or are you only an occasional visitor?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"This is my first visit of any sort to Covent Garden," +John told her.</p> + +<p>She looked at him with as much surprise as good +breeding permitted. John, who had not as yet sat +down, seemed almost preternaturally tall in that small +box, with its low ceiling. He was looking around the +house with the enthusiasm of a boy. Lady Hilda +glanced away from him toward the prince, and smiled; +then she looked back at John. There was something +like admiration in her face.</p> + +<p>"Do you live abroad?" she asked.</p> + +<p>John shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I live in Cumberland," he said. "Many people +here seem to think that that is the same thing. My +brother and I have a farm there."</p> + +<p>"But you visit London occasionally, surely?"</p> + +<p>"I have not been in London," John told her, "since +I passed through it on my way home from Oxford, eight +years ago."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 139]</span> +"But why not?" she persisted.</p> + +<p>John laughed a little.</p> + +<p>"Well, really," he admitted, "when I come to think +of it seriously, I scarcely know. I have lived alone with +an elder brother, who hates London and would be very +unhappy if I got into the way of coming up regularly. +I fancy that I have rather grown into his way of thinking. +I am quite satisfied—or rather I have been quite +satisfied—to live down there all the year round."</p> + +<p>"I have never heard anything so extraordinary in +my life!" the woman declared frankly. "Is it the +prince who has induced you to break out of your seclusion?"</p> + +<p>"Our young friend," the prince explained, "finds +himself suddenly in altered circumstances. He has +been left a large fortune, and has come to spend it. Incidentally, +I hope, he has come to see something more +of your sex than is possible among his mountain wilds. +He has come, in short, to look a little way into life."</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda leaned back in her chair.</p> + +<p>"How romantic!"</p> + +<p>"The prince amuses himself," John assured her. "I +don't suppose I shall stay very long in London. I want +just to try it for a time."</p> + +<p>She looked at him almost wistfully. She was a +woman with brains; a woman notorious for the freedom +of her life, for her intellectual gifts, for her almost brutal +disregard of the conventions of her class. The psychological +interest of John Strangewey's situation appealed +to her powerfully. Besides, she had a weakness +for handsome men.</p> + +<p>"Of course, it all sounds like a fairy tale," she declared. +"Tell me exactly, please, how long you have +been in London."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 140]</span> +"About forty-eight hours," he answered.</p> + +<p>"And what did you do last night?"</p> + +<p>"I dined with two friends, we went to the Palace, and +one of them took me to a supper club."</p> + +<p>She made a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"You began in somewhat obvious fashion," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"I can vouch for the friends," the prince observed, +smiling.</p> + +<p>"At any rate," said Lady Hilda, "I am glad to +think that I shall be able to watch you when you see +Calavera dance for the first time."</p> + +<p>The curtain rang up upon one of the most gorgeous +and sensuous of the Russian ballets. John, who by +their joint insistence was occupying the front chair in +the box, leaned forward in his place, his eyes steadfastly +fixed upon the stage. Both the prince and Lady Hilda, +in the background, although they occasionally glanced +at the performance, devoted most of their attention to +watching him.</p> + +<p>As the story progressed and the music grew in passion +and voluptuousness, they distinctly saw his almost +militant protest. They saw the knitting of his firm +mouth and the slight contraction of his eyebrows. The +prince and his friend exchanged glances. She drew her +chair a little farther back, and he followed her example.</p> + +<p>"Where did you find anything so wonderful as this?" +she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Lost among the hills in Cumberland," the prince replied. +"I have an estate up there—in fact, he and I +are joint lords of the manor of the village in which he +has lived."</p> + +<p>"And you?" she whispered, glancing at John to be +sure that she was not overheard. "Where do you come +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 141]</span> +in? An educator of the young? I don't seem to see +you in that rôle!"</p> + +<p>A very rare and by no means pleasant smile twisted +the corners of his lips for a moment.</p> + +<p>"It is a long story."</p> + +<p>"Can I be brought in?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"It rests with you. It would suit my plans."</p> + +<p>She toyed with her fan for a moment, looked restlessly +at the stage and back again at John. Then she +rose from her place and stood before the looking-glass. +From the greater obscurity of the box she motioned to +the prince.</p> + +<p>John remained entirely heedless of their movements. +His eyes were still riveted upon the stage, fascinated +with the wonderful coloring, the realization of a new +art.</p> + +<p>"You and I," Lady Hilda whispered, "do not need +to play about with the truth, Eugène. What are you +doing this for?"</p> + +<p>"The idlest whim," the prince assured her quietly. +"Look at him. Think for a moment of his position—absolutely +without experience, entirely ignorant about +women, with a fortune one only dreams of, and probably +the handsomest animal in London. What is going to +become of him?"</p> + +<p>"I think I understand a little," she confessed.</p> + +<p>"I think you do," the prince assented. "He has +views, this young man. It is my humor to see them dissipated. +The modern <i>Sir Galahad</i> always irritated me +a little."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"They'll never give him a chance, these women," she +said. "Much better hand him over to me."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 142]</span> +The prince smiled enigmatically, and Lady Hilda returned +to her seat. John was still leaning forward +with his eyes fixed upon Calavera, who was dancing +alone now. The ballet was drawing toward the end. +The music had reached its climax of wild and passionate +sensuousness, dominated and inspired by the woman +whose every movement and every glance seemed part of +some occult, dimly understood language.</p> + +<p>When the curtain rang down, John, like many others, +was confused. Nevertheless, after that first breathless +pause, he stood up and joined in the tumultuous applause.</p> + +<p>"Well?" the prince asked.</p> + +<p>John shook his head. "I don't know," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Neither does any one else," Lady Hilda said. +"Don't try to analyze your impressions for our benefit, +Mr. Strangewey. I am exactly in your position, +and I have been here a dozen times. Even to us hardened +men and women of the world, this Russian music +came as a surprise. There were parts of it you did +not like, though, weren't there?"</p> + +<p>"There were parts of it I hated," John agreed. +"There were passages that seemed to aim at discord in +every sense of the word."</p> + +<p>She nodded sympathetically. They were on their +way down the broad staircase.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I am going to +be asked out to supper?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, not to-night, dear lady," the prince regretted. +"I am having a few friends at Seyre House."</p> + +<p>She shot a glance at him and shrugged her shoulders. +She was evidently displeased.</p> + +<p>"How much too bad!" she exclaimed. "I am not +at all sure that it is right of you to invite Mr. Strangewey +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 143]</span> +to one of your orgies. A respectable little supper +at the Carlton, and a cigarette in my library afterward, +would have been a great deal better for both of you—certainly +for Mr. Strangewey. I think I shall run away +with him, as it is!"</p> + +<p>The prince shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate," he sighed, "but we are both engaged. +If you will give us the opportunity some other +evening—"</p> + +<p>"I am not at all sure that I shall have anything more +to do with you, Eugène," she declared. "You are not +behaving nicely. Will you come and see me while you +are in town, Mr. Strangewey?" she added, turning to +John. "I suppose you can be trusted to reach No. 21 +Pont Street without your Mephistophelian chaperon?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to very much," he replied. "I think," +he added, a little hesitatingly, "that I have read one of +your books of travel. It is very interesting to meet you."</p> + +<p>"So my fame has really reached Cumberland!" she +laughed. "You must come and talk to me one afternoon +quite soon. Will you? I want so much to hear +your impressions of London. I am always in between +six and seven; or if you want to come earlier, I will try +to be in if you telephone."</p> + +<p>"I will come with pleasure," John promised.</p> + +<p>They stood for a few moments in the crowded vestibule +until Lady Hilda Mulloch's car was called. The +prince stood back, allowing John to escort her to the +door. She detained him for a moment after she had +taken her seat, and leaned out of the window, her fingers +still in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Be careful!" she whispered. "The prince's supper +parties are just a little—shall I say banal? There are +better things if one waits!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 144]</span></p> + +<h2>XVI</h2> + +<p>The reception-rooms of Seyre House, by some people +considered the finest in London, were crowded that night +by a brilliant and cosmopolitan assembly. For some +time John stood by the prince's side and was introduced +to more people than he had ever met before in his life. +Presently, however, he was discovered by his friend +Amerton.</p> + +<p>"Queer thing your being here, a friend of the prince +and all that!" the young man remarked. "Where's +Miss Sophy this evening?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen her," John replied. "I don't believe +she is invited."</p> + +<p>"Did you hear that Calavera is coming?" Amerton +inquired.</p> + +<p>John nodded.</p> + +<p>"She's expected any moment. I wonder what she's +like off the stage!"</p> + +<p>"You wait and see," Lord Amerton sighed. "There +isn't another woman in Europe to touch her. Why, +they say that even our host is one of her victims. Like +to be introduced to some of the girls, or shall we go and +have a drink?"</p> + +<p>John was hesitating when he felt a hand upon his +shoulder. The prince's voice sounded in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Strangewey," he said, "I am privileged to present +you to Mme. Aida Calavera. <i>Madame</i>, this is the +friend of whom I spoke to you."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 145]</span> +John turned away from the little group of girls and +young men toward whom Amerton had been leading him. +Even though the prince's speech had given him a moment's +breathing-space, he felt himself constrained to +pause before he made his bow of ceremony.</p> + +<p>The woman was different from anything he had +imagined, from anything he had ever seen. In the ballet +a writhing, sensuous figure with every gesture a note in +the octave of passion, here she seemed the very personification +of a negative and striking immobility. She was +slender, not so tall as she had seemed upon the stage, +dressed in white from head to foot. Her face was almost +marblelike in its pallor, her smooth, black hair was +drawn tightly over her ears, and her eyes were of the +deepest shade of blue.</p> + +<p>During that momentary pause, while he searched +among a confused mixture of sensations for some formula +of polite speech, John found time to liken her in +his mind to something Egyptian. She raised her hand, +as he bowed, with a gesture almost royal in its condescension. +The prince, with quiet tact, bridged over +the moment during which John struggled in vain for +something to say.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," he remarked, "paid his first visit +to Covent Garden to-night. He has seen his first ballet, +as we moderns understand the term. I cannot help envying +him that delight. He naturally finds it difficult to +realize this additional good fortune. Will you excuse +me for one moment?"</p> + +<p>The prince departed to welcome some later arrivals. +The noisy little group standing close at hand, from +which John had been diverted, passed on into the refreshment-room, +and the two were, for a few moments, +almost isolated.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 146]</span> +Even then John felt himself tongue-tied. Standing +where she was, with that background of dark oil-paintings +lit only by shaded electric lamps, she was more than +ever like a wonderful old Egyptian statue into which +some measure of slow-moving life had been breathed. +He recognized almost with wonder the absence of any +ornament of any sort on her neck or fingers.</p> + +<p>"You were pleased with the performance, I hope?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was in character with her personality. It +was extremely low, scarcely louder than a whisper. To +his surprise, it was almost wholly free from any foreign +accent.</p> + +<p>"It was very wonderful," John answered.</p> + +<p>"You understood the story?"</p> + +<p>"Only partly," he confessed.</p> + +<p>"Would you have recognized me, seeing me as you do +now?"</p> + +<p>"Never in the world," he assured her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me why I am so different off the stage."</p> + +<p>"On the stage," he replied, "you seem to me to be +the embodiment of wild movement. Here, you seem—forgive +me—to be a statue. I can scarcely believe that +you walked across the room."</p> + +<p>"It is my pose," she said calmly.</p> + +<p>"Then you are a great actress as well as a great +dancer," he declared.</p> + +<p>For the first time the plastic calm of her features +seemed disturbed. She smiled, but even her smile seemed +to him more like some mechanically contrived alteration +in the facial expression of a statue than anything natural +or spontaneous.</p> + +<p>"The prince tells me," she continued, "that you are +a stranger in London. Give me your arm. We will +walk to a quieter place. In a few moments we are to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 147]</span> +be disturbed for supper. One eats so often and so much +in this country. Why do I say that, though? It is +not so bad as in Russia."</p> + +<p>They passed across the polished wood floor into a little +room with Oriental fittings, where a lamp was swinging +from the ceiling, giving out a dim but pleasant light. +The place was empty, and the sound of the music and +voices seemed to come from a distance. She sank down +upon a divan back among the shadows, and motioned +John to sit by her side.</p> + +<p>"You have come to find out, to understand—is that +not so?" she inquired. "What you know of life, the +prince tells me, you have learned from books. Now you +have come to discover what more than that there is to +be learned in the world of men and women."</p> + +<p>"Did the prince tell you all this?" John asked.</p> + +<p>"He did," she admitted. "He seems much interested +in you."</p> + +<p>"He has been very kind," John said.</p> + +<p>She turned her head slowly and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"A young man to whom the prince chooses to be kind +is, in a way, fortunate," she said. "I think he knows +more of life than any other person whom I ever met."</p> + +<p>"You have known him for long?"</p> + +<p>"In Budapest, five years ago; in Russia, the season +afterward; then in Paris; in Petersburg again, and now +in London. The prince has been a faithful friend. He +came once from Florence to Petersburg, to be present +at my first night at the opera. Always he impresses +me the same way. There is very little in life, in men +or in women, which he does not understand. Let us +return to what we were speaking about. I find it very +interesting."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," John declared.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 148]</span> +"What you will learn here," she went on, "depends +very much upon yourself. Are you intelligent? Perhaps +not very," she added, looking at him critically. +"You have brains, however, without a doubt. You +have also what places you at once <i>en rapport</i> with the +cult of the moment—you are wonderfully good-looking."</p> + +<p>John moved a little uneasily in his place. He felt +that the dancer's eyes were fixed upon him, and he was +feverishly anxious not to respond to the invitation of +their gaze. He was conscious, too, of the queer, indefinable +fascination of her near presence in the dimly +lighted room.</p> + +<p>"What you will learn," she proceeded, "depends +very much upon your desires. If you seek for the best, +and are content with nothing else, you will find it. But +so few men are content to wait!"</p> + +<p>"I intend to," John said simply.</p> + +<p>"Look at me, please," she ordered.</p> + +<p>Once more he was compelled to look into her deep-blue +eyes. The incomprehensible smile was still upon +her lips.</p> + +<p>"You have loved?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, taken a little aback by the +abruptness of the question.</p> + +<p>"You grow more wonderful! How old are you, may +I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-eight."</p> + +<p>"At the present moment, then, you are free from +any distracting thoughts about women? You have no +entanglements?"</p> + +<p>"I have nothing of the sort," John declared, almost +irritably. "There is one person who has made a wonderful +change in my life. I believe I could say that I +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 149]</span> +am absolutely certain of my feelings for her, but so far +she has not given me much encouragement. Tell me, +<i>madame</i>, why do you ask me these questions?"</p> + +<p>"Because it interests me," she replied. "Why do +you not insist that this lady should tell you the +truth?"</p> + +<p>"I have come to London to insist," he told her, "but +I have been here only forty-eight hours."</p> + +<p>"So you are waiting?"</p> + +<p>"I am waiting," he assented.</p> + +<p>"So many people spend their lives doing that," she +went on presently. "It does not appeal to me. The +moment I make up my mind that I want a thing, I +take it. The moment I make up my mind to give, I +give."</p> + +<p>John was suddenly conscious of the closeness of the +atmosphere. The fingers of his hands were clenched +tightly together. He swore to himself that he would +not look into this woman's face. He listened to the +band which was playing in the balcony of the great hall, +to the murmur of the voices, the shouts of laughter. +He told himself that Mme. Calavera was amusing herself +with him.</p> + +<p>"The prince's party," she continued, after a long +pause, "seems to be a great success, to judge by the +noise they are making. So many people shout and +laugh when they are happy. I myself find a more perfect +expression of happiness in silence."</p> + +<p>She was leaning a little back in her place. One arm +was resting upon a pile of cushions, the other hung +loosely over the side of the divan. John felt a sudden +desire to rise to his feet, and a simultaneous consciousness +that his feet seemed to be made of lead.</p> + +<p>"You may hold my fingers," she said; "and please +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 150]</span> +keep your face turned toward me. Why are you nervous? +I am not very formidable."</p> + +<p>He took her fingers, very much as the prince had +done upon her arrival, and pressed them formally to +his lips. Then he released them and rose.</p> + +<p>"You know," he confessed, "I am very stupid at this +sort of thing. Shall we go back to the reception rooms? +I shall be the most unpopular man here if I keep you any +longer."</p> + +<p>The smile deepened slightly. Little lines appeared +at the sides of her eyes. So far from being annoyed, he +could see that she was laughing.</p> + +<p>"Joseph," she mocked, "I am not tempting you, +really! Do sit down. I have met men in many countries, +but none like you. So you do not wish to accept +those small privileges which a woman may offer when +she chooses?"</p> + +<p>"I believe—in fact, I am almost certain—that I +love the woman I have come to London to see," John declared.</p> + +<p>"You get more and more interesting," she murmured. +"Don't you realize that your love for one woman should +make you kind to all?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," he answered bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Come," she said, "do not be afraid of me. I will +not make love to you—seriously. You must be kind +to me because everybody spoils me. After supper there +are one or two more questions I must ask you. Do you +know that I am going to dance here? Never before +have I danced in a private house in England. Except +upon the stage, I like to dance only to those whom I +love!"</p> + +<p>The little space between the curtains was suddenly +darkened. John turned eagerly around, and, to his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 151]</span> +immense relief, recognized the prince. Their host came +forward to where they were sitting, and held out his +arm to Calavera.</p> + +<p>"Dear lady," he announced, "supper is served. +Will you do me this great honor?"</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet. The prince turned to John.</p> + +<p>"This is my privilege as host," he explained; "but +if you will follow us, you will find some consolation in +store for you."</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 152]</span></p> + +<h2>XVII</h2> + +<p>"Well?" the prince asked, as he handed Aida Calavera +to her place at his right hand.</p> + +<p>"I think not," she replied.</p> + +<p>He raised his eyebrows slightly. For a moment he +glanced down the supper-table with the care of a punctilious +host, to see that his guests were properly seated. +He addressed a few trivialities to the musical-comedy +star who was sitting on his left. Then he leaned once +more toward the great dancer.</p> + +<p>"You surprise me," he said. "I should have thought +that the enterprise would have commended itself to you. +You do not doubt the facts?"</p> + +<p>"They are obvious enough," she replied. "The +young man is all that you say, even more ingenuous +than I had believed possible, but I fancy I must be +getting old. He tried to tell me that he was in love with +another woman, and I felt suddenly powerless. I think +I must be getting to that age when one prefers to +achieve one's conquests with the lifting of a finger."</p> + +<p>The prince sighed.</p> + +<p>"I shall never understand your sex!" he declared. +"I should have supposed that the slight effort of resistance +such a young man might make would have +provided just the necessary stimulus to complete his +subjection."</p> + +<p>She turned her beautiful head and looked at the prince +through narrowed eyes.</p> + +<p>"After all," she asked, "what should I gain? I am +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 153]</span> +not like a child who robs an insect of life for a few moments' +amusement. Even if I have no conscience, it +gives me no pleasure to be wanton. Besides, the young +man is, in his way, a splendid work of art. Why should +I be vandal enough to destroy it? I shall ask you another +question."</p> + +<p>The prince slowly sipped the wine from the glass that +he was holding to his lips. Then he set it down deliberately.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"What is your interest? Is it a bet, a whim, or—enmity?"</p> + +<p>"You may count it the latter," the prince replied +deliberately.</p> + +<p>Calavera laughed softly to herself.</p> + +<p>"Now, for the first time," she confessed, "I feel interest. +This is where one realizes that we live in the +most impossible age of all history. The great noble +who seeks to destroy the poor young man from the +country is powerless to wreak harm upon him. You +can neither make him a pauper nor have him beaten to +death. Why are there princes any longer, I wonder? +You are only as other men."</p> + +<p>"It is an unhappy reflection, but it is the truth," +the prince admitted. "My ancestors would have disposed +of this young man as I should a troublesome fly, +and it would have cost them no more than a few silver +pieces and a cask of wine. To-day, alas, conditions +are different. It will cost me more."</p> + +<p>She trifled for a moment with the salad upon her +plate, which as yet she had scarcely tasted.</p> + +<p>"I am feeling," she remarked, "magnificently Oriental—like +Cleopatra. The sensation pleases me. +We are bargaining, are we not—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 154]</span> +"We shall not bargain," the prince interrupted +softly. "It is you who shall name your price."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes and dropped them again.</p> + +<p>"The prince has spoken," she murmured.</p> + +<p>He touched her fingers for a moment with his, as if +to seal their compact; then he turned once more to the +lady upon his left.</p> + +<p>Seyre House was one of the few mansions in London +which boasted a banqueting-hall as well as a picture-gallery. +Although the long table was laid for forty +guests, it still seemed, with its shaded lights and its profusion +of flowers, like an oasis of color in the middle of +the huge, somberly lighted apartment. The penny +illustrated papers, whose contributors know more of the +doings of London society than anybody else, always +hinted in mysterious terms at the saturnalian character +of the prince's supper parties. John, who had heard +a few whispers beforehand, and whose interest in his +surroundings was keen and intense, wondered whether +this company of beautiful women and elegant men were +indeed a modern revival of those wonderful creations of +Boccaccio, to whom they had so often been likened.</p> + +<p>Some of the faces of the guests were well known to +him through their published photographs; to others he +had been presented by the prince upon their arrival. +He was seated between a young American star of musical +comedy and a lady who had only recently dropped +from the social firmament through the medium of the +divorce-court, to return to the theater of her earlier +fame. Both showed every desire to converse with him +between the intervals of eating and drinking, but were +constantly brought to a pause by John's lack of knowledge +of current topics. After her third glass of champagne, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 155]</span> +the lady who had recently been a countess announced +her intention of taking him under her wing.</p> + +<p>"Some one must tell you all about things," she insisted. +"What you need is a guide and a chaperon. +Won't I do?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," he agreed.</p> + +<p>"Fair play!" protested the young lady on his left, +whose name was Rosie Sharon. "I spoke to him first!"</p> + +<p>"Jolly bad luck!" Lord Amerton drawled from the +other side of the table. "Neither of you have an +earthly. He's booked. Saw him out with her the other +evening."</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't eat any more supper," Rosie Sharon +pouted, pushing away her plate.</p> + +<p>"You ought to have told us about her at once," the +lady who had been a countess declared severely.</p> + +<p>John preserved his equanimity.</p> + +<p>"It is to be presumed," he murmured, "that you +ladies are both free from any present attachment?"</p> + +<p>"Got you there!" Amerton chuckled. "What +about Billy?"</p> + +<p>Rosie Sharon sighed.</p> + +<p>"We don't come to the prince's supper parties to +remember our ties," she declared. "Let's all go on +talking nonsense, please. Even if my heart is broken, +I could never resist the prince's <i>pâté</i>!"</p> + +<p>Apparently every one was of the same mind. The +hum of laughter steadily grew. Jokes, mostly in the +nature of personalities, were freely bandied across the +table. It was becoming obvious that the contributors +to the penny illustrated papers knew what they were +talking about. Under shelter of the fire of conversation, +the prince leaned toward his companion and reopened +their previous discussion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 156]</span> +"Do you know," he began, "I am inclined to be +somewhat disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm in a +certain direction!"</p> + +<p>"I have disappointed many men in my time," she replied. +"Do you doubt my power, now that I have +promised to exercise it?"</p> + +<p>"Who could?" he replied courteously. "Yet this +young man poses, I believe, as something of a St. Anthony. +He may give you trouble."</p> + +<p>"He is then, what you call a prig?"</p> + +<p>"A most complete and perfect specimen, even in this +nation of prigs!"</p> + +<p>"All that you tell me," she sighed, "makes the enterprise +seem easier. It is, after all, rather like the +lioness and the mouse, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>The prince made no reply, but upon his lips there +lingered a faintly incredulous smile. The woman by +his side leaned back in her place. She had the air of +accepting a challenge.</p> + +<p>"After supper," she said, "we will see!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>A single chord of music in a minor key floated across +the room, soft at first, swelling later into a volume of +sound, then dying away and ceasing altogether. John, +standing momentarily alone in a corner of the picture-gallery, +found it almost incredible that this wildly +hilarious throng of men and women could so soon, and +without a single admonitory word, break off in the +midst of their conversation, stifle their mirth, almost +hold their breath, in obedience to this unspoken appeal +for silence. Every light in the place was suddenly extinguished. +There remained only the shaded lamps +overhanging the pictures.</p> + +<p>Not a whisper was heard in the room. John, looking +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 157]</span> +around him in astonishment, was conscious only of +the half-suppressed breathing of the men and women +who lined the walls, or were still standing in little groups +at the end of the long hall. Again there came the music, +this time merged in a low but insistent clamor of other +instruments. Then, suddenly, through the door at the +farther end of the room came a dimly seen figure in +white. The place seemed wrapped in a mystical twilight, +with long black rays of deeper shadow lying across +the floor. There was a little murmur of tense voices, +and then again silence.</p> + +<p>For a few moments the figure in white was motionless. +Then, without any visible commencement, she seemed +suddenly to blend into the waves of low, passionate +music. The dance itself was without form or definite +movement. She seemed at first like some white, limbless +spirit, floating here and there across the dark bars +of shadow at the calling of the melody. There was no +apparent effort of the body. She was merely a beautiful, +unearthly shape. It was like the flitting of a white +moth through the blackness of a moonless summer night.</p> + +<p>The impression it made upon John was indescribable. +He watched with straining eyes, conscious of a deep +sense of pleasure. Here was something appealing insistently +to his love of beauty pure and simple; a new +joy, a new grace, something which thrilled him and +which left no aftermath of uneasy thoughts.</p> + +<p>The music suddenly faded away into nothing. With +no more effort than when she had glided into her poem +of movement, the dancer stood in a pose of perfect stillness. +There were a few moments of tense silence. +Then came a crash of chords, and the slender white +figure launched into the dance.</p> + +<p>Her motions became more animated, more human. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 158]</span> +With feet which seemed never to meet the earth, she +glided toward the corner where John was standing. +He caught the smoldering fire in her eyes as she danced +within a few feet of him. He felt a catch in his breath. +Some subtle and only half-expressed emotion shook his +whole being, seemed to tear at the locked chamber of +his soul.</p> + +<p>She had flung her arms forward, so near that they +almost touched him. He could have sworn that her lips +had called his name. He felt himself bewitched, filled +with an insane longing to throw out his arms in response +to her passionate, unspoken invitation, in obedience to +the clamoring of his seething senses. He had forgotten, +even, that any one else was in the room.</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, the music stopped. The lights flared +out from the ceiling and from every corner of the apartment. +Slender and erect, her arms hanging limply at +her sides, without a touch of color in her cheeks or a +coil of her black hair disarranged, without a sign of +heat or disturbance or passion in her face, John found +Aida Calavera standing within a few feet of him, her +eyes seeking for his. She laid her fingers upon his arm. +The room was ringing with shouts of applause, in +which John unconsciously joined. Every one was trying +to press forward toward her. With her left hand +she waved them back.</p> + +<p>"If I have pleased you," she said, "I am so glad! +I go now to rest for a little time."</p> + +<p>She tightened her clasp upon her companion's arm, +and they passed out of the picture-gallery and down a +long corridor. John felt as if he were walking in a +dream. Volition seemed to have left him. He only +knew that the still, white hand upon his arm seemed like +a vise burning into his flesh.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 159]</span> +She led him to the end of the corridor, through another +door, into a small room furnished in plain but +comfortable fashion.</p> + +<p>"We will invade the prince's own sanctum," she murmured. +"Before I dance, I drink nothing but water. +Now I want some champagne. Will you fetch me some, +and bring it to me yourself?"</p> + +<p>She sank back upon a divan as she spoke. John +turned to leave the room, but she called him back.</p> + +<p>"Come here," she invited, "close to my side! I can +wait for the champagne. Tell me, why you are so +silent? And my dancing—that pleased you?"</p> + +<p>He felt the words stick in his throat. The sight of +her cold, alluring beauty, shining out of her eyes, proclaiming +itself and her wishes from her parted lips, +filled him with a sudden resentment. He hated himself +for the tumult which raged within him, and her for having +aroused it.</p> + +<p>"Your dancing was indeed wonderful," he stammered.</p> + +<p>"It was for you!" she whispered, her voice growing +softer and lower. "It was for you I danced. Did you +not feel it?"</p> + +<p>Her arms stole toward him. The unnatural calm +with which she had finished her dance seemed suddenly +to pass. Her bosom was rising and falling more +quickly. There was a faint spot of color in her cheek.</p> + +<p>"It was wonderful," he told her. "I will get you +the champagne."</p> + +<p>Her lips were parted. She smiled up at him.</p> + +<p>"Go quickly," she whispered, "and come back +quickly! I wait for you."</p> + +<p>He left the room and passed out again into the picture-gallery +before he had the least idea where he was. +The band was playing a waltz, and one or two couples +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 160]</span> +were dancing. The people seemed suddenly to have +become like puppets in some strange, unreal dream. +He felt an almost feverish longing for the open air, for +a long draft of the fresh sweetness of the night, far +away from this overheated atmosphere charged with unnamable +things.</p> + +<p>As he passed through the farther doorway he came +face to face with the prince.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" the latter asked.</p> + +<p>"Mme. Calavera has asked me to get her some champagne," +he answered.</p> + +<p>The prince smiled.</p> + +<p>"I will see that it is sent to her at once," he promised. +"You are in my sanctum, are you not? You can pursue +your <i>tête-à-tête</i> there without interruption. You +are a very much envied man!"</p> + +<p>"Mme. Calavera is there," John replied. "As for +me, I am afraid I shall have to go now."</p> + +<p>The smile faded from the prince's lips. His eyebrows +came slowly together.</p> + +<p>"You are leaving?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"I must!" John insisted. "I can't help it. Forgive +my behaving like a boor, but I must go. Good +night!"</p> + +<p>The prince stretched out his hand, but he was too +late.</p> + +<p>It was twenty minutes past two o'clock when John +left Grosvenor Square, and it was twenty minutes to five +when a sleepy hall-porter took him up in the lift to his +rooms on the fourth floor at the Milan. The intervening +space of time was never anything to him but an +ugly and tangled sheaf of memories.</p> + +<p>His first overwhelming desire had been simply to +escape from that enervating and perfervid atmosphere, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 161]</span> +to feel the morning air cool upon his forehead, to drink +in great gulps of the fresh, windy sweetness. He felt +as if poison had been poured into his veins, as if he +had tampered with the unclean things of life.</p> + +<p>He found himself, after a few minutes' hurried walking, +in Piccadilly. The shadows that flitted by him, +lingering as he approached and offering their stereotyped +greeting, filled him with a new horror. He turned +abruptly down Duke Street and made his way to St. +James's Park. From here he walked slowly eastward. +When he reached the Strand, however, the storm in his +soul was still unabated. He turned away from the +Milan. The turmoil of his passions drove him to the +thoughts of flight. Half an hour later he entered St. +Pancras Station.</p> + +<p>"What time is the next train north to Kendal or +Carlisle?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>The porter stared at him. John's evening clothes +were spattered with mud, the rain-drops were glistening +on his coat and face, his new silk hat was ruined. It +was not only his clothes, however, which attracted the +man's attention. There was the strained look of a +fugitive in John's face, a fugitive flying from some +threatened fate.</p> + +<p>"The newspaper train at five thirty is the earliest, +sir," he said. "I don't know whether you can get to +Kendal by it, but it stops at Carlisle."</p> + +<p>John looked at the clock. There was an hour to +wait. He wandered about the station, gloomy, chill, +deserted. The place sickened him, and he strolled out +into the streets again. By chance he left the station +by the same exit as on the day of his arrival in London. +He stopped short.</p> + +<p>How could he have forgotten, even for a moment? +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 162]</span> +This was not the world which he had come to discover. +This was just some plague-spot upon which he had +stumbled. Through the murky dawn and across the +ugly streets he looked into Louise's drawing-room. +She would be there waiting for him on the morrow!</p> + +<p>Louise! The thought of her was like a sweet, purifying +stimulant. He felt the throbbing of his nerves +soothed. He felt himself growing calm. The terror +of the last few hours was like a nightmare which had +passed. He summoned a taxicab and was driven to +the Milan. His wanderings for the night were over.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 163]</span></p> + +<h2>XVIII</h2> + +<p>Sophy Gerard sat in the little back room of Louise's +house, which the latter called her den, but which she +seldom entered. The little actress was looking very +trim and neat in a simple blue-serge costume which fitted +her to perfection, her hair very primly arranged and +tied up with a bow. She had a pen in her mouth, there +was a sheaf of bills before her, and an open housekeeping-book +lay on her knee. She had been busy for the +last half-hour making calculations, the result of which +had brought a frown to her face.</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt about it," she decided. "Louise +is extravagant!"</p> + +<p>The door opened, and Louise herself, in a gray morning +gown of some soft material, with a bunch of deep-red +roses at her waist, looked into the room.</p> + +<p>"Why, little girl," she exclaimed, "how long have +you been here?"</p> + +<p>"All the morning," Sophy replied. "I took the +dogs out, and then I started on your housekeeping-book +and the bills. Your checks will have to be larger than +ever this month, Louise, and I don't see how you can +possibly draw them unless you go and see your bankers +first."</p> + +<p>Louise threw herself into an easy chair.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" she sighed. "I thought I had been so +careful!"</p> + +<p>"How can you talk about being careful?" Sophy +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 164]</span> +protested, tapping the little pile of bills with her forefinger. +"You seem to have had enough asparagus and +strawberries every day for at least half a dozen people. +As for the butcher, I am going this afternoon to tell +him exactly what I think of him. And there are several +matters here," she went on, "concerning which you +must really talk to the cook yourself. For instance—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please don't!" Louise broke in. "I know I +am extravagant. I suppose I always shall be; but if +there is one thing in the world I will not do, it is talk to +the cook! She might insist upon going, and I have +never known any one who made such entrées. Remember, +child, it will be full salary in a fortnight's time."</p> + +<p>"You will have to go and see your bankers, anyhow," +Sophy declared. "It's no use my writing out +these checks for you. Unless you have paid in some +money I don't know anything about, you seem to be +overdrawn already."</p> + +<p>"I will see to that," Louise promised. "The bank +manager is such a charming person. Besides, what are +banks for but to oblige their clients? How pale you +look, little girl! Were you not late last night?"</p> + +<p>Sophy swung round in her place.</p> + +<p>"I am all right. I spent the evening in my rooms +and went to bed at eleven o'clock. Who's lunching with +you? I see the table is laid for two."</p> + +<p>Louise glanced at the clock upon the mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," she replied. "I suppose he will +be here in a minute or two."</p> + +<p>Sophy dropped the housekeeping-book and jumped +up.</p> + +<p>"I'd better go, then."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," Louise answered. "You must stay +to lunch. Ring the bell and tell them to lay a place for +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 165]</span> +you. Afterward, if you like, you may come in here and +finish brooding over these wretched bills while Mr. +Strangewey talks to me."</p> + +<p>Sophy came suddenly across the room and sank on +the floor at Louise's feet.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do about Mr. Strangewey, +Louise?" she asked wistfully.</p> + +<p>"What am I going to do about him?"</p> + +<p>"He is in love with you," Sophy continued. "I am +sure—I am almost sure of it."</p> + +<p>Louise's laugh was unconvincing.</p> + +<p>"I do not think," she said, "that he quite knows what +it means to be in love."</p> + +<p>Sophy suddenly clasped her friend's knees.</p> + +<p>"Dear," she whispered, "perhaps I am a little fool, +but tell me, please!"</p> + +<p>Louise, for a moment, was startled. Then she +leaned forward and kissed the eager, upturned face.</p> + +<p>"You foolish child!" she exclaimed. "I believe that +you have been worrying. Why do you think so much +about other people?"</p> + +<p>"Please tell me," Sophy begged. "I want to understand +how things really are between you and John +Strangewey. Are you in love with him?"</p> + +<p>Louise's eyes were soft and dreamy.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew," she answered. "If I am, then there +are things in life more wonderful than I have ever +dreamed of. He doesn't live in our world—and our +world, as you know, has its grip. He knows nothing +about my art, and you can guess what life would be to +me without that. What future could there be for him +and for me together? I cannot remake myself."</p> + +<p>There was something in Sophy's face which was almost +like wonder.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 166]</span> +"So this is the meaning of the change in you, Louise! +I knew that something had happened. You have seemed +so different for the last few months."</p> + +<p>Louise nodded.</p> + +<p>"London has never been the same place to me since +I first met him in Cumberland," she admitted. "Sometimes +I think I am—to use your own words—in love +with John. Sometimes I feel it is just a queer, indistinct, +but passionate appreciation of the abstract +beauty of the life he seems to stand for."</p> + +<p>"Is he really so good, I wonder?" Sophy asked pensively.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," Louise sighed. "I only know that +when I first talked to him, he seemed different from any +man I have ever spoken with in my life. I suppose +there are few temptations up there, and they keep nearer +to the big things. Sometimes I wonder, Sophy, if it +was not very wrong of me to draw him away from it +all!"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" Sophy declared. "If he is good, he +can prove it and know it here. He will come to know +the truth about himself. Besides, it isn't everything +to possess the standard virtues. Louise, he will be here +in a minute. You want to be left alone with him. +What are you going to say when he asks you what you +know he will ask you?"</p> + +<p>Louise looked down at her.</p> + +<p>"Dear," she said, "I wish I could tell you. I do +not know. That is the strange, troublesome part of +it—I do not know!"</p> + +<p>"Will you promise me something?" Sophy begged. +"Promise me that if I stay in here quietly until after +he has gone, you will come and tell me!"</p> + +<p>Louise leaned a little downward as if to look into her +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 167]</span> +friend's face. Sophy suddenly dropped her eyes, and +the color rose to the roots of her hair. There was a +knock at the door, and the parlor maid entered.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey, madam," she announced.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 168]</span></p> + +<h2>XIX</h2> + +<p>"There can be no possible doubt," Louise remarked, +as she unfolded her napkin, "as to our first subject of +conversation. Both Sophy and I are simply dying of +curiosity to know about the prince's supper party."</p> + +<p>"It was very cheerful and very gay," John said. +"Every one seemed to enjoy it very much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, la, la!" Sophy exclaimed. "Is that all you +have to tell us? I shall begin to think that you were up +to mischief there."</p> + +<p>"I believe," Louise declared, "that every one of the +guests is sworn to secrecy as to what really goes on."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you that I wasn't," John told them.</p> + +<p>"The papers hint at all sorts of things," Sophy continued. +"Every one who writes for the penny illustrated +papers parades his whole stock of classical +knowledge when he attempts to describe them. We read +of the feasts of Lucullus and Bacchanalian orgies. +They say that at supper-time you lie about on sofas +and feast for four hours at a stretch."</p> + +<p>"The reports seem exaggerated," John laughed. +"We went in to supper at half past twelve and we came +out just before two. We sat on chairs, and the conversation +was quite decorous."</p> + +<p>"This is most disappointing!" Louise murmured. +"I cannot think why the prince never invites us."</p> + +<p>"The ladies of his family were not present," John remarked +stiffly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 169]</span> +There was a moment's silence. Louise had looked +down at her plate, and Sophy glanced out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Is it true that Calavera was there?" the latter +asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she was there," John replied. "She danced +after supper."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you lucky man!" Louise sighed. "She only +dances once or twice a year off the stage. Is she really +so wonderful close to?"</p> + +<p>"She is, in her way, very wonderful," John agreed.</p> + +<p>"Confess that you admired her," Louise persisted.</p> + +<p>"I thought her dancing extraordinary," he confessed, +"and, to be truthful, I did admire her. All the same, +hers is a hateful gift."</p> + +<p>Louise looked at him curiously for a moment. His +face showed few signs of the struggle through which +he had passed, but the grim setting of his lips reminded +her a little of his brother. He had lost, too, something +of the boyishness, the simple light-heartedness of the +day before. Instinctively she felt that the battle had +begun. She asked him no more about the supper party, +and Sophy, quick to follow her lead, also dropped the +subject.</p> + +<p>Luncheon was not a lengthy meal, and immediately +its service was concluded, Sophy rose to her feet with a +sigh.</p> + +<p>"I must go and finish my work," she declared. "Let +me have the den to myself for at least an hour, please, +Louise. It will take me longer than that to muddle +through your books."</p> + +<p>Louise nodded and rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"We will leave you entirely undisturbed," she +promised. "I hope, when you have finished, you will +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 170]</span> +have something more agreeable to say than you had before +lunch. Shall we have our coffee up-stairs?" she +suggested, turning to John.</p> + +<p>"I should like to very much," he replied. "I want +to talk to you alone."</p> + +<p>She led the way up-stairs into the cool, white drawing-room, +with its flower-perfumed atmosphere and its delicate, +shadowy air of repose. She curled herself up in a +corner of the divan and gave him his coffee. Then she +leaned back and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"So you have really come to London, Mr. Countryman!"</p> + +<p>"I have followed you," he answered. "I think you +knew that I would. I tried not to," he went on, after a +moment's pause. "I fought against it as hard as I +could; but in the end I had to give in."</p> + +<p>"That was very sensible of you," she declared +knocking the ash from her cigarette. "There is no use +wearing oneself out fighting a hopeless battle. You +know now that there are things in life which are not to +be found in your passionless corner among the hills. +You have realized that you owe a duty to yourself."</p> + +<p>"That was not what brought me," he answered +bluntly. "I came for you."</p> + +<p>Louise's capacity for fencing seemed suddenly enfeebled. +A frontal attack of such directness was irresistible.</p> + +<p>"For me!" she repeated weakly.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he replied. "None of your arguments +would have brought me here. If I have desired to understand +this world at all, it is because it is your world. +It is you I want—don't you understand that? I +thought you would know it from the first moment you +saw me!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 171]</span> +He was suddenly on his feet, leaning over her, a +changed man, masterful, passionate. She opened her +lips, but said nothing. She felt herself lifted up, +clasped for a moment in his arms. Unresisting, she +felt the fire of his kisses. The world seemed to have +stopped. Then she tried to push him away, weakly, +and against her own will. At her first movement he +laid her tenderly back in her place.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry!" he said. "And yet I am not," he +added, drawing his chair close up to her side. "I am +glad! You knew that I loved you, Louise. You knew +that it was for you I had come."</p> + +<p>She was beginning to collect herself. Her brain was +at work again; but she was conscious of a new confusion +in her senses, a new element in her life. She was no +longer sure of herself.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she begged earnestly. "Be reasonable! +How could I marry you? Do you think that I could +live with you up there in the hills?"</p> + +<p>"We will live," he promised, "anywhere you choose +in the world."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no!" she continued, patting his hand. "You +know what your life is, the things you want in life. You +don't know mine yet. There is my work. You cannot +think how wonderful it is to me. You don't know the +things that fill my brain from day to day, the thoughts +that direct my life. I cannot marry you just because—because—"</p> + +<p>"Because what?" he interrupted eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Because you make me feel—something I don't understand, +because you come and you turn the world, for +a few minutes, topsyturvy. But that is all foolishness, +isn't it? Life isn't built up of emotions. What I want +you to understand, and what you, please, must understand, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 172]</span> +is that at present our lives are so far, so very far, +apart. I do not feel I could be happy leading yours, +and you do not understand mine."</p> + +<p>"I have come to find out about yours," John explained. +"That is why I am here. Perhaps I ought +to have waited a little time before I spoke to you as I +did just now. Come, you can forget what I have said +and done; but to me it will be an everlasting joy. I +shall treasure the memory of it. It will help me—I +can't tell you quite in what way it will help me. But +for the rest, I will serve my apprenticeship. I will try +to get into sympathy with the things that please you. +It will not take me long. As soon as you feel that we +are drawing closer together, I will ask you again what +I have asked you this afternoon. In the meantime, I +may be your friend, may I not? You will let me see a +great deal of you? You will help me just a little?"</p> + +<p>Louise leaned back in her chair. She had been carried +off her feet, brought face to face with emotions +which she dared not analyze. Perhaps, after all her +self-dissection, there were still secret chambers. She +thought almost with fear of what they might contain. +Her sense of superiority was vanishing. She was, after +all, like other women.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she promised, "I will help. We will leave it +at that. Some day you shall talk to me again, if you +like. In the meantime, remember we are both free. +You have not known many women, and you may change +your mind when you have been longer in London. Perhaps +it will be better for you if you do!"</p> + +<p>"That is quite impossible," John said firmly. "You +see," he went on, looking at her with shining eyes, "I +know now what I half believed from the first moment +that I saw you. I love you!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 173]</span> +Springing restlessly to her feet, she walked across the +room and back again. Action of some sort seemed imperative. +A curious hypnotic feeling seemed to be dulling +all her powers of resistance. She looked into her +life and she was terrified. Everything had grown insignificant. +It couldn't really be possible that with her +brains, her experience, this man who had dwelt all his +life in the simple ways had yet the power to show her the +path toward the greater things!</p> + +<p>Through the complex web of emotions which made up +her temperament there suddenly sprang a primitive instinct, +the primitive instinct of all women, rebelling +against the first touch of a master's hand. Was she to +find herself wrong and this man right? Was she to +submit, to accept from his hand the best gifts of life—she +who had looked for them in such very high, such +very inaccessible places?</p> + +<p>She felt like a child again. She trembled a little as +she sat down by his side. It was not in this fashion +that she had intended to hear what he had to say.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what is the matter with me to-day," +she murmured distractedly. "I think I must send you +away. You disturb my thoughts. I can't see life +clearly. Don't hope for too much from me," she +begged. "But don't go away," she added, with a sudden +irresistible impulse of anxiety. "Oh, I wish—I +wish you understood me and everything about me, without +my having to say a word!"</p> + +<p>"I feel what you are," he answered, "and that is +sufficient."</p> + +<p>Once more she rose to her feet and walked across to +the window. An automobile had stopped in the street +below. She looked down upon it with a sudden frozen +feeling of apprehension.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 174]</span> +John moved to her side, and for him, too, the joy of +those few moments was clouded. A little shiver of presentiment +took its place. He recognized the footman +whom he saw standing upon the pavement.</p> + +<p>"It is the Prince of Seyre," Louise faltered.</p> + +<p>"Must you see him?" John muttered.</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Send him away," John begged. "We haven't +finished yet. I won't say anything more to upset you. +What I want now is some practical guidance."</p> + +<p>"I cannot send him away!"</p> + +<p>John glanced toward her and hated himself for his +fierce jealousy. She was looking very white and very +pathetic. The light had gone from her eyes. He felt +suddenly dominant, and, with that feeling, there came +all the generosity of the conqueror.</p> + +<p>"Good-by!" he said. "Perhaps I can see you some +time to-morrow."</p> + +<p>He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, +one by one. Then he left the room. She listened to +his footsteps descending the stairs, firm, resolute, deliberate. +They paused, there was a sound of voices—the +prince and he were exchanging greetings; then she +heard other footsteps ascending, lighter, smoother, yet +just as deliberate.</p> + +<p>Her face grew paler as she listened. There was +something which sounded to her almost like the beating +of fate in the slow, inevitable approach of this unseen +visitor.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 175]</span></p> + +<h2>XX</h2> + +<p>Henri Graillot had made himself thoroughly comfortable. +He was ensconced in the largest of John's easy +chairs, his pipe in his mouth, a recently refilled teacup—Graillot +was English in nothing except his predilection +for tea—on the small table by his side. Through +a little cloud of tobacco-smoke he was studying his host.</p> + +<p>"So you call yourself a Londoner now, my young +friend, I suppose," he remarked, taking pensive note of +John's fashionable clothes. "It is a transformation, +beyond a doubt! Is it, I wonder, upon the surface only, +or have you indeed become heart and soul a son of this +corrupt city?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever I may have become," John grumbled, +"it's meant three months of the hardest work I've ever +done!"</p> + +<p>Graillot held out his pipe in front of him and blew +away a dense cloud of smoke.</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself," he insisted.</p> + +<p>John stood on the hearth-rug, with his hands in his +pockets. His morning clothes were exceedingly well-cut, +his tie and collar unexceptionable, his hair closely +cropped according to the fashion of the moment. He +had an extremely civilized air.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Graillot," he said, "I'll tell you what +I've done, although I don't suppose you would understand +what it means to me. I've visited practically +every theater in London."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 176]</span> +"Alone?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes with Miss Maurel, sometimes with her +little friend, Sophy Gerard, and sometimes alone," John +replied. "I have bought a Baedeker, taken a taxicab +by the day, and done all the sights. I've spent weeks in +the National Gallery, picture-gazing, and I've done all +those more modern shows up round Bond Street. I +have bought a racing-car and learned to drive it. I +have been to dinner parties that have bored me stiff. +I have been introduced to crowds of people whom I +never wish to see again, and made one or two friends," +he added, smiling at his guest, "for whom I hope I am +properly grateful."</p> + +<p>"The prince has been showing you round a bit, hasn't +he?" Graillot grunted.</p> + +<p>"The prince has been extraordinarily kind to me," +John admitted slowly, "for what reason I don't know. +He has introduced me to a great many pleasant and interesting +people, and a great many whom I suppose a +young man in my position should be glad to know. He +has shown me one side of London life pretty thoroughly."</p> + +<p>"And what about it all?" Graillot demanded. +"You find yourself something more of a citizen of the +world, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," John answered simply. "The more I +see of the life up here, the smaller it seems to me. I +mean, of course, the ordinary life of pleasure, the life to +be lived by a young man like myself, who hasn't any +profession or work upon which he can concentrate his +thoughts."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you stay?"</p> + +<p>John made no immediate reply. Instead, he walked +to the window of his sitting room and stood looking out +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 177]</span> +across the Thames with a discontented frown upon his +face. Between him and the Frenchman a curious +friendship had sprung up during the last few months.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, then," Graillot continued, taking a bite +from his piece of cake and shaking the crumbs from his +waistcoat, "what do you find in London to compensate +you for the things you miss? You are cooped up here +in this little flat—you, who are used to large rooms +and open spaces; you have given up your exercise, your +sports—for what?"</p> + +<p>"I get some exercise," John protested. "I play +rackets at Ranelagh most mornings, and I bought a +couple of hacks and ride occasionally in the park before +you're out of bed."</p> + +<p>"That's all right for exercise," Graillot observed. +"What about amusements?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've joined a couple of clubs. One's rather a +swagger sort of place—the prince got me in there; and +then I belong to the Lambs, where you yourself go sometimes. +I generally look in at one or the other of them +during the evening."</p> + +<p>"You see much of Miss Maurel?"</p> + +<p>John shook his head gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Not as much as I should like," he confessed. "She +seems to think and dream of nothing but this play +of yours. I am hoping that when it is once produced +she will be more free."</p> + +<p>"I gather," Graillot concluded, "that, to put it concisely +and truthfully, you are the most bored man in +London. There is something behind all this effort of +yours, my friend, to fit yourself, the round human being, +into the square place. Speak the truth, now! Treat +me as a father confessor."</p> + +<p>John swung round upon his heel. In the clear light +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 178]</span> +it was obvious that he was a little thinner in the face and +that some of the tan had gone from his complexion.</p> + +<p>"I am staying up here, and going on with it," he +announced doggedly, "because of a woman."</p> + +<p>Graillot stopped eating, placed the remains of his +cake in the saucer of his teacup, and laid it down. Then +he leaned back in his chair and balanced his finger-tips +one against the other.</p> + +<p>"A woman!" he murmured. "How you astonish +me!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Candor is so good," Graillot continued, "so stimulating +to the moral system. It is absolute candor which +has made friends of two people so far apart in most +ways as you and myself. You surprise me simply because +of your reputation."</p> + +<p>"What about my reputation?"</p> + +<p>Graillot smiled benignly.</p> + +<p>"In France," he observed, "you would probably be +offered your choice of lunatic asylums. Here your +weakness seems to have made you rather the vogue."</p> + +<p>"What weakness?"</p> + +<p>"It is to a certain extent hearsay, I must admit," +Graillot proceeded; "but the report about you is that, +although you have had some of the most beautiful +women in London almost offer themselves to you, you +still remain without a mistress."</p> + +<p>"What in the world do you mean?" John demanded.</p> + +<p>"I mean," Graillot explained frankly, "that for a +young man of your age, your wealth, and your appearance +to remain free from any feminine entanglement is +a thing unheard of in my country, and, I should imagine, +rare in yours. It is not so that young men were +made when I was young!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 179]</span> +"I don't happen to want a mistress," John remarked, +lighting a cigarette. "I want a wife."</p> + +<p>"But meanwhile—"</p> + +<p>"You can call me a fool, if you like," John interrupted. +"I may be one, I suppose, from your point +of view. All I know is that I want to be able to offer +the woman whom I marry, and who I hope will be the +mother of my children, precisely what she offers me. I +want a fair bargain, from her point of view as well as +mine."</p> + +<p>Graillot, who had been refilling his pipe, stopped and +glowered at his host.</p> + +<p>"What exactly do you mean?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Surely my meaning is plain enough," John replied. +"We all have our peculiar tastes and our eccentricities. +One of mine has to do with the other sex. I cannot +make an amusement of them. It is against all my +prejudices."</p> + +<p>Graillot carefully completed the refilling of his pipe +and lit it satisfactorily. Then he turned once more to +John.</p> + +<p>"Let us not be mistaken," he said. "You are a purist!"</p> + +<p>"You can call me what you like," John retorted. +"I do not believe in one law for the woman and another +for the man. If a man wants a woman, and we all do +more or less, it seems to me that he ought to wait until +he finds one whom he is content to make the mother of +his children."</p> + +<p>Graillot nodded ponderously.</p> + +<p>"Something like this I suspected," he admitted. "I +felt that there was something extraordinary and unusual +about you. If I dared, my young friend, I would +write a play about you; but then no one would believe +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 180]</span> +it. Now tell me something. I have heard your principles. +We are face to face—men, brothers, and +friends. Do you live up to them?"</p> + +<p>"I have always done so," John declared.</p> + +<p>Graillot was silent for several moments. Then he +opened his lips to speak and abruptly closed them. +His face suddenly underwent an extraordinary change. +A few seconds ago his attitude had been that of a professor +examining some favorite object of study; now a +more personal note had humanized his expression. +Whatever thought or reflection it was that had come +into his mind, it had plainly startled him.</p> + +<p>"Who is the woman?" he asked breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"There is no secret about it, so far as I am concerned," +John answered. "It is Louise Maurel. I +thought you must have guessed."</p> + +<p>The two men looked at each other in silence for some +moments. Out on the river a little tug was hooting +vigorously. The roar of the Strand came faintly into +the room. Upon the mantelpiece a very ornate French +clock was ticking lightly. All these sounds seemed +suddenly accentuated. They beat time to a silence almost +tragical in its intensity.</p> + +<p>Graillot took out his handkerchief and dabbed his +forehead. He had written many plays, and the dramatic +instinct was strongly developed in him.</p> + +<p>"Louise!" he muttered under his breath.</p> + +<p>"She is very different, I know," John went on, after +a moment's hesitation. "She is very clever and a +great artist, and she lives in an atmosphere of which, a +few months ago, I knew nothing. I have come up here +to try to understand, to try to get a little nearer to +her."</p> + +<p>There was another silence, this time almost an +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 181]</span> +awkward one. Then Graillot rose suddenly to his +feet.</p> + +<p>"I will respect your confidence," he promised, holding +out his hand. "Have no fear of that. I am due +now at the theater. Your tea is excellent, and such +little cakes I never tasted before."</p> + +<p>"You will wish me good luck?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" John demanded, a little startled.</p> + +<p>"Because," Graillot pronounced, "from what I have +seen and know of you both, there are no two people in +this world less suitable for each other."</p> + +<p>"Look here," John expostulated, "I don't want you +to go away thinking so. You don't understand what +this means to me."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not, my friend," Graillot replied, "but remember +that it is at least my trade to understand men +and women. I have known Louise Maurel since she was +a child."</p> + +<p>"Then it is I whom you don't understand."</p> + +<p>"That may be so," Graillot confessed. "One makes +mistakes. Let us leave it at that. You are a young +man of undeveloped temperament. You may be capable +of much which at present I do not find in you."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the one quality in which you consider me +most lacking," John begged. "You think that I am +narrow, too old-fashioned in my views? Perhaps I am, +but, on the other hand, I am very anxious to learn and +absorb all that is best in this wider life. You can't +really call me prejudiced. I hated the stage before I +came to London, but during the last few months no one +has been a more assiduous theatergoer. I understand +better than I did, and my views are immensely modified. +I admit that Louise is a great artist, I admit that she +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 182]</span> +has wonderful talents. I am even willing, if she wished +it, to allow her to remain for a time upon the stage. +What could I say more? I want you on my side, Graillot."</p> + +<p>"And I," Graillot replied, as he shook his friend's +hand and hurried off, "want only to be on the side that +will mean happiness for you both."</p> + +<p>He left the room a little abruptly. John walked +back to the window, oppressed with a sense of something +almost ominous in the Frenchman's manner, something +which he could not fathom, against which he struggled +in vain. Side by side with it, there surged into his memory +the disquietude which his present relations with +Louise had developed. She was always charming when +she had any time to spare—sometimes almost affectionate. +On the other hand, he was profoundly conscious +of her desire to keep him at arm's length for the +present.</p> + +<p>He had accepted her decision without a murmur. +He made but few efforts to see her alone, and when they +met he made no special claim upon her notice. He was +serving his apprenticeship doggedly and faithfully. Yet +there were times like the present when he found his task +both hateful and difficult.</p> + +<p>He walked aimlessly backward and forward, chafing +against the restraint of the narrow walls and the low +ceiling. A sudden desire had seized him to fly back to +the hills, wreathed in mist though they might be; to +struggle on his way through the blinding rain, to drink +down long gulps of his own purer, less civilized atmosphere.</p> + +<p>The telephone-bell rang. He placed the receiver to +his ear almost mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" he asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 183]</span> +"Lady Hilda Mulloch is asking for you, sir," the +hall-porter announced.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Lady Hilda peered around John's room through her +lorgnette, and did not hesitate to express her dissatisfaction.</p> + +<p>"My dear man," she exclaimed, "what makes you +live in a hotel? Why don't you take rooms of your own +and furnish them? Surroundings like these are destructive +to one's individuality."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see," John explained, as he drew an easy +chair up to the fire for his guest, "my stay in London +is only a temporary one, and it hasn't seemed worth +while to settle anywhere."</p> + +<p>She stretched out her graceful body in front of the +fire and raised her veil. She was very smartly dressed, +as usual. Her white-topped boots and white silk stockings, +which she seemed to have no objection to displaying, +were of the latest vogue. The chinchilla around +her neck and in her little toque was most becoming. +She seemed to bring with her an atmosphere indefinable, +in its way, but distinctly attractive. Brisk in her +speech, a little commanding in her manner, she was still +essentially feminine.</p> + +<p>John, at her direct invitation, had called upon her +once or twice since their meeting at the opera, and he +had found her, from the first, more attractive than any +other society woman of his acquaintance. None the +less, he was a little taken aback at her present visit.</p> + +<p>"Exactly why are you here, anyhow?" she demanded. +"I feel sure that Eugène told me the reason +which had brought you from your wilds, but I have forgotten +it."</p> + +<p>"For one thing," John replied, "I have come because +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 184]</span> +I don't want to appear prejudiced, and the fact +that I had never spent a month in London, or even a +week, seemed a little narrow-minded."</p> + +<p>"What's the real attraction?" Lady Hilda asked. +"It is a woman, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I am very fond of a woman who is in London," John +admitted. "Perhaps it is true that I am here on her +account."</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda withdrew from her muff a gold cigarette-case +and a little box of matches.</p> + +<p>"Order some mixed vermuth with lemon for me, +please," she begged. "I have been shopping, and I +hate tea. I don't know why I came to see you. I suddenly +thought of it when I was in Bond Street."</p> + +<p>"It was very kind of you," John said. "If I had +known that you cared about seeing me, I would have +come to you with pleasure."</p> + +<p>"What does it matter?" she answered. "You are +thinking, perhaps, that I risk my reputation in coming +to a young man's rooms? Those things do not count +for me. Ever since I was a child I have done exactly +as I liked, and people have shrugged their shoulders and +said, 'Ah, well, it is only Lady Hilda!' I have been +six months away from civilization, big-game shooting, +and haven't seen a white woman. It didn't matter, because +it was I. I traveled around the world with a most +delightful man who was writing a book, but it didn't +affect my reputation in the slightest. I am quite convinced +that if I chose to take you off to Monte Carlo +with me next week and spend a month with you there, I +should get my pass to the royal enclosure at Ascot +when I returned, and my invitation to the next court +ball, even in this era of starch. You see, they would +say, 'It is only Lady Hilda!'"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 185]</span> +The waiter brought the vermuth, which his visitor +sipped contentedly.</p> + +<p>"So there is a woman, is there?" she went on, looking +across the room at her companion. "Have you +committed yourself already, then? Don't you remember +what I told you the first night we met after the +opera—that it is well to wait?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember," John admitted.</p> + +<p>"I meant it."</p> + +<p>He laughed good-humoredly, yet not without some +trace of self-consciousness.</p> + +<p>"The mischief was done then," he said.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't it be undone?" she asked lazily. "Or +are you one of those tedious people who are faithful +forever? Fidelity," she continued, knocking the ash +from her cigarette, "is really, to my mind, the most +bourgeois of vices. It comes from a want of elasticity +in the emotional fibres. Nothing in life has bored me +so much as the faithfulness of my lovers."</p> + +<p>"You ought to put all this into one of your books," +John suggested.</p> + +<p>"I probably shall, when I write my reminiscences," +she replied. "Tell me about this woman. And don't +stand about in that restless way at the other end of the +room. Bring a chair close to me—there, close to my +side!"</p> + +<p>John obeyed, and his visitor contemplated him +thoughtfully through a little cloud of tobacco-smoke.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she decided, "there is no use denying it. +You are hatefully good-looking, and somehow or other I +think your clothes have improved you. You have a little +more air than when you first came to town. Are +you quite sure that you haven't made up your mind +about this woman in a hurry?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 186]</span> +"Quite sure," John laughed. "I suppose I am +rather an idiot, but I am addicted to the vice of which +you were speaking."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"I should imagine," she said, "that you were not an +adept in the art of flirtation. Is it true that the +woman is Louise Maurel?"</p> + +<p>"Quite true," John replied.</p> + +<p>"But don't you know—"</p> + +<p>She broke off abruptly. She saw the face of the man +by her side suddenly change, and her instinct warned +her of the danger into which she was rushing.</p> + +<p>"You surprise me very much," she said. "Louise +Maurel is a very wonderful woman, but she seems to +spend the whole of her time with my cousin, the prince."</p> + +<p>"They are, without doubt, very friendly," John assented. +"They have a good many interests in common, +and the prince is connected with the syndicate which +finances the theater. I do not imagine, however, that +the prince wishes to marry her, or she him."</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda began to laugh, softly, but as if genuinely +amused. John sat and watched her in ominous +silence. Not the flicker of a smile parted his set lips. +His visitor, however, was undisturbed. She leaned over +and patted his hand.</p> + +<p>"Simple Simon!" she murmured, leaning a little toward +him. "If you go looking like that, I shall pat +your cheeks, too. You are really much too nice-looking +to wear such thunderclouds!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps if we chose some other subject of conversation—" +John said stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me!" she interrupted. "Very well! You +really are a most trying person, you know. I put up +with a great deal from you."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 187]</span> +John was silent. Her face darkened a little, and an +angry light flashed in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll leave you alone, if you like," she decided, +tossing her cigarette into the grate. "If my friendship +isn't worth having, let it go. It hasn't often been +offered in vain. There are more men in London than I +could count who would go down on their knees for such +a visit as I am paying you. And you—you," she +added, with a little tremble of real anger in her tone, +"you're too hatefully polite and priggish! Come and +ring the bell for the lift. I am going!"</p> + +<p>She slid gracefully to her feet, shook the cigarette ash +from her clothes, and picked up her muff.</p> + +<p>"You really are an egregious, thick-headed, obstinate +countryman," she declared, as she moved toward the +door. "You haven't either manners or sensibility. I +am a perfect idiot to waste my time upon you. I +wouldn't have done it," she added, as he followed her +dumbly down the corridor, "if I hadn't rather liked +you!"</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," he declared. "I don't know +quite what I have done. I do appreciate your friendship. +You have been very kind to me indeed."</p> + +<p>She hesitated as his finger touched the bell of the lift, +and glanced at the watch on her wrist.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "if you want to be friends, I will +give you one last chance. I am doing what sounds +rather a ghastly thing—I am having a little week-end +party down at my cottage at Bourne End. It will be +rather like camping out, but some interesting people are +coming. Will you motor down on Saturday evening +and stay till Sunday night or Monday?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be very pleased indeed," John replied. "It +is very good of you to ask me. When I come, I'd like, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 188]</span> +if I may," he went on, "to tell you about myself, and +why I am here, and about Louise."</p> + +<p>She sighed, and watched the top of the lift as it came +up. Then she dropped her veil.</p> + +<p>"You will find me," she assured him, as she gave him +the tips of her fingers, "a most sympathetic listener."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Louise and Sophy came to dine that evening with +John in the grill-room at the Milan. They arrived a +little late and were still in morning clothes. Louise was +looking pale and tired, and her greeting was almost listless.</p> + +<p>"We are dead beat," Sophy exclaimed. "We've +been having a secret rehearsal this afternoon without +Graillot, and he came in just as we were finishing. He +was perfectly furious!"</p> + +<p>"He was here to tea with me," John remarked, as he +led the way to their table.</p> + +<p>"My dear man," Louise exclaimed, "if you could +have kept him half an hour longer you'd have earned +our undying gratitude! You see, there are several little +things on which we shall never agree, he and myself +and the rest of the company; so we decided to run over +certain passages in the way we intend to do them, without +him. Of course, he saw through it all when he arrived, +tore up his manuscript on the stage, and generally +behaved like a madman."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," John said, as they took their seats +and he handed Louise the menu of the dinner that he +had ordered. "Won't the play be produced to-morrow +night, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it will be produced all right," Louise told him; +"but you don't know how we've all worn ourselves out, +trying to make that old bear see reason. We've had to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 189]</span> +give way on one scene, as it is. What a delightful little +dinner, John! You're spoiling us. You know how +I love that big white asparagus. And strawberries, +too! Well, I think we've earned it anyhow, Sophy!"</p> + +<p>"You have," the latter declared. "You were the +only one who could soothe Graillot at all."</p> + +<p>"I can get my way with most people," Louise remarked +languidly; "but it simply means that the more +difficult they are, the more you have to spend yourself +in getting it. John," she went on, after a moment's +pause, "you are coming to-morrow night, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. Didn't I take my box two months +ago?"</p> + +<p>"And now that my part after the first act has been +cut out, I am coming with him," Sophy put in. "I +may, mayn't I?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," John assented.</p> + +<p>Louise sighed dejectedly.</p> + +<p>"I am not at all sure that I shall like having you +there," she said. "I shouldn't be at all surprised if it +made me nervous."</p> + +<p>He laughed incredulously.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well," she went on, watching the champagne +poured in to her glass, "but you won't like the +play, you know."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I sha'n't understand it altogether," John +agreed. "It's very subtle, and, as you know, I don't +find problem plays of that sort particularly attractive; +but with you in it, you can't imagine that I sha'n't find +it interesting!"</p> + +<p>"We were talking about it, coming up in the taxi," +Louise continued, "and we came to the conclusion that +you'd hate it. We've had to give way to Graillot with +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 190]</span> +regard to the last act. Of course, there is really nothing +in it, but I don't know just what you will say."</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't be afraid that I shall stand up +in my box and order the performance to cease," John +assured them, smiling. "Besides, I am not quite such +an idiot, Louise. I know very well that you may have +to say and do things on the stage which in private life +would offend your taste and your sense of dignity. I +am quite reconciled to that. I am prepared to accept +everything you do and everything that you say. +There! I can't say more than that, can I?"</p> + +<p>Louise smiled at him almost gratefully. She drew +her hand over his, caressingly.</p> + +<p>"You are a dear!" she declared. "You've really +made me feel much more comfortable. Now please tell +me what you have been doing all day."</p> + +<p>"Well, Graillot came in and spent most of the afternoon," +John answered. "Since then, Lady Hilda Mulloch +has been here."</p> + +<p>Louise looked up quickly.</p> + +<p>"What, here in your rooms?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask her," John said. "I have been to see +her once or twice, and she has been very nice, but I +never dreamed of her coming here."</p> + +<p>"Shameless hussy!" Sophy exclaimed, as she set +down her wine-glass. "Didn't you tell her that Louise +and I are the only two women in London who have the +entrée to your rooms?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid it didn't occur to me to tell her that," +John confessed, smiling. "All the same, I was surprised +to see her. It was just a whim, I think."</p> + +<p>"She is a clever woman," Louise sighed. "She won't +know me—I can't imagine why. She is a cousin of the +prince, too, you know."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 191]</span> +"She is very amusing," John agreed. "I have met +some interesting people at her house, too. She has +asked me down to Bourne End for this next week-end—the +week-end you are spending with Mrs. Faraday," he +continued, glancing toward Louise.</p> + +<p>Louise nodded. She looked at John critically.</p> + +<p>"Quite a success in town, isn't he?" she remarked to +Sophy. "People tumble over one another to get invitations +for her week-end parties in the season. I must +say I never heard of going down to Bourne End in February, +though."</p> + +<p>"The idea seemed rather pleasant to me," John confessed. +"So many of you people know nothing of the +country except just in the summer!"</p> + +<p>"If John gets talking about the country," Louise +said, "we shall not be allowed our proper share in the +conversation for the rest of the evening. The question +is, are we to allow him to go down to Bourne End? +Lady Hilda isn't exactly a Puritan where your sex is +concerned, you know, John."</p> + +<p>"She'll expect you to flirt with her," Sophy insisted.</p> + +<p>"She won't," John replied. "I have told her that +I am in love with Louise."</p> + +<p>"Was there ever such a man in the world?" Louise +exclaimed. "Tell me, what did Lady Hilda say to +that?"</p> + +<p>"Not much," he answered. "She suggested that +her cousin had a prior claim on you."</p> + +<p>Louise laid down her knife and fork. Her left hand +clutched the piece of toast which was lying by her side. +She began to crumble it up into small pieces.</p> + +<p>"What did Lady Hilda say exactly?" she insisted.</p> + +<p>"Nothing much," John replied. "She seemed surprised +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 192]</span> +when I mentioned your name. I asked her why, +and she told me, or rather she hinted, that you and the +prince are very great friends."</p> + +<p>"Anything more?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all. I pointed out that the prince is interested +in theatrical affairs, and that he is the chief +member of the syndicate that runs the theaters. She +seemed to understand."</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence. Louise was once more +looking a little tired. She changed the subject +abruptly, and only returned to it when John was driving +home with her.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she said, after a long silence, "I +am not at all sure that I want you to go to Lady Hilda's!"</p> + +<p>"Then I won't," he promised with alacrity. "I'll do +just as you say."</p> + +<p>Louise sat quite still, thinking, looking through the +rain-splashed windows of the taxicab.</p> + +<p>"You have only to say the word," John continued. +"I should be flattered to think that you cared."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that. Lady Hilda is very clever, and she +is used to having her own way. I am afraid!"</p> + +<p>"Afraid of what?"</p> + +<p>"Of nothing," Louise declared suddenly. "Go, by +all means, John. I am simply a little idiot when I give +way for a moment to such poisonous thoughts. Lady +Hilda can say what she likes about anybody or anything. +It really doesn't matter at all whether you go +to Bourne End or not."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand you," John confessed; +"but if you mean that you are afraid of anything Lady +Hilda might say to me about you, why, I feel inclined +to laugh at you. Lady Hilda," he added, with a touch +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 193]</span> +of intuition, "is far too clever a woman to make such a +mistake."</p> + +<p>"I believe you are right," Louise agreed. "I shall +pin my faith to Lady Hilda's cleverness and to your—fidelity. +Go and spend your week-end there, by all +means. I only wish I wasn't bound to go to the Faradays', +but that can't possibly be helped. Come and +lunch with me on Monday," she added impulsively. "It +seems a long time since we had a little talk together."</p> + +<p>He suddenly held her to him, and she met his lips unresistingly. +It was the first time he had even attempted +anything of the sort for months.</p> + +<p>"You are a dear, John," she said, a little wistfully. +"I am terribly divided in my thoughts about you. Just +now I feel that I have only one wish—that I could give +you all that you want, all that you deserve!"</p> + +<p>He was very loverlike. She was once more a slight, +quivering thing in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Why need we wait any longer?" he begged. "If +we told everyone to-night—to-morrow—the Faradays +would not expect you to keep your engagement."</p> + +<p>She shook herself free from him, but her smile was +almost a compensation. The taxicab had stopped opposite +her door, and her servant came hurrying out.</p> + +<p>"Until Monday!" she murmured.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 194]</span></p> + +<h2>XXI</h2> + +<p>Early on the following morning John glided out of +London in his two-seated racing-car, on his way to +Bourne End. The white mist that hung over the +Streets and parks and obscured the sky passed away as +he left the suburbs behind him. With his first glimpse +of the country came a welcome change. There were +little flecks of blue in the firmament above him, a distinct +if somewhat watery sunshine, and a soft buoyancy in +the air, almost an anticipation of spring.</p> + +<p>John leaned back in his seat, filled with an unexpected +sense of contentment. After all, this week-end visit +would probably turn out to be pleasant enough, and on +Monday night the play was to be produced at last. He +felt that for weeks Louise had been living in an atmosphere +of high tension. He himself had begun to realize +the nervous excitement of a first night, when the work +of many months is at last presented in its concrete +form. He was content to believe that all that had depressed +him in Louise's demeanor had been due to this +cause—to anxiety about her success, to the artistic +dissatisfaction evolved by the struggle between her desire +to conform to the prejudices of the critics and her +wish to present truthfully the work of the great French +dramatist. Once it was all over and the verdict given, +relaxation would come. He was content to wait.</p> + +<p>He had no trouble in finding Lady Hilda's cottage +in Bourne End—a long, white bungalow-looking building, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 195]</span> +surrounded by a little stream which led down to the +river. A man servant took his dressing case from the +back of the car and showed him the way to the garage. +Lady Hilda herself came strolling up the lawn and +waved her hand.</p> + +<p>"Now what about my week-end on the river?" she +exclaimed, as they shook hands. "Isn't it delightful? +I have ordered lunch early—do you mind?—and I +thought, if you felt energetic, it's not too cold for you +to take me out on the river; or, if you feel lazy, I'll take +you."</p> + +<p>"I am not much of an oarsman," John told her, +"but I certainly won't ask you to pull me about!"</p> + +<p>She led him into the little dining room and answered +the question in his eyes when he saw the table laid for +two.</p> + +<p>"Colonel and Mrs. Dauncey are coming down this +afternoon," she said, "and my brother Fred will be here +in time for dinner. I wired to Mrs. Henderson—the +woman who writes novels, you know—to come down, +too, if she can, but I haven't heard from her. I have +been looking at the river this morning, and it's almost +like glass; and I can see little specks of green in the +flower-beds where my bulbs are coming up. Richards +will show you your room now, if you like, and we'll have +lunch in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>John found his cottage bedroom, with its view of the +river, delightful, and at luncheon Lady Hilda showed +him the side of herself that he liked best. She talked of +her travels, and of big-game shooting. Afterward they +sauntered out to the stream, and John, selecting the +more stable of the two boats moored to the little landing-stage, +pulled out into the river. Lady Hilda, in a +fur coat, leaned back on a pile of cushions and watched +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 196]</span> +him, with a cigarette between her lips. He found the +exercise stimulating and delightful. Some of the color +which he had lost came back to his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you sorry," she asked him once, as they +paused to look across a vista of green meadows toward +a distant range of hills, "for the people who see nothing +in the country except in summer? Look at those +lines of bare, sad trees, the stillness of it all, and yet +the softness; and think what it will soon be, think what +there is underneath, ready to burst into life as the weeks +go on! I always come down here early, just to watch +the coming of springtime. That wood to our left, with +its bare, brown undergrowth, will soon show little flushes +of pinky-yellow, and then a few days more sunshine and +the primroses will be there. And you see, higher up, +that wood where the trees stand so far apart? A little +later still, the wild hyacinths will be like a blue carpet +there. In the garden we begin with little rings of white +snowdrops; then the crocuses come up in lines, yellow +and purple; and the daffodils; and then, on those beds +behind, the hyacinths. When the wind blows from the +south, the perfume of them, as you pass down the river, +is simply wonderful. Be careful, if you are turning +round. There's a strong current here."</p> + +<p>John nodded. He was watching his hostess a little +curiously.</p> + +<p>"I had no idea," he said simply, "that you cared +about flowers and that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>She threw her cigarette away and looked at him for +a moment without speaking.</p> + +<p>"You see, you don't really understand me very well," +she remarked.</p> + +<p>The twilight was coming on as they turned into their +own little stream, and gleams of light shot from the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 197]</span> +windows of the few houses that were open. As they +strolled up the lawn, they could see a rose-shaded lamp +and a silver tea-equipage set out in Lady Hilda's sitting +room.</p> + +<p>"No one arrived yet, I see," she remarked carelessly, +as they entered the cottage. "I'll play you a game of +billiards as soon as we have had tea."</p> + +<p>John, who had thoroughly enjoyed his exercise, sat +in a low chair by her side, drank innumerable small cups +of tea, and ate buttered toast in thin strips. When +they had finished, Lady Hilda rose.</p> + +<p>"Go and knock the balls about for a few minutes," +she begged. "I am going to put on a more comfortable +gown. If the Daunceys come, you can entertain +them. I played a round of golf this morning before +you came."</p> + +<p>John made his way into the comfortable billiard +room, at one end of which a wood fire was burning, lit a +cigarette, and took out a cue. Presently Lady Hilda +returned. She was wearing a rose-colored tea-gown, +and once more John caught a glimpse of something in +her eyes, as she looked at him, which puzzled him.</p> + +<p>"I am a little gaudy, I am afraid," she laughed, as +she took a cue from the rack, "but so comfortable! +How many will you give me in a hundred?"</p> + +<p>"I have never seen you play," John reminded her. +"I am not much good myself."</p> + +<p>They played two games, and John had hard work to +escape defeat. As they were commencing the third, +the butler entered the room, bearing a telegram. Lady +Hilda took it from the salver, glanced at it, and threw it +into the fire.</p> + +<p>"What a nuisance!" she exclaimed. "The Daunceys +can't come."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 198]</span> +John, who was enjoying himself very much, murmured +only a word or two of polite regret. He had +never got over his distaste for meeting strangers.</p> + +<p>"Can't be helped, I suppose," Lady Hilda remarked. +"There is nothing from Flo Henderson yet. We'll +have one more game, and then I'll ring her up."</p> + +<p>They played another game of billiards, and sat by +the fire for a little while. The silence outside, and the +air of repose about the place, were delightful to John +after several months of London.</p> + +<p>"I wonder you ever leave here," he said.</p> + +<p>She laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"You forget that I am a lone woman. Solitude, as +our dear friend wrote in her last novel, is a paradise +for two, but is an irritant for one."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. For the first time since +his arrival John's tranquillity was a little disturbed. +There was something almost pathetic in the expression +which had flashed for a moment over his hostess's face. +Was she really lonely, he wondered? Perhaps she had +some sort of unhappy love history underneath her +rather hard exterior. He was disposed just then to +judge the whole world charitably, and he had never believed +the stories which people were so anxious to tell of +her. He felt no desire to pursue the subject.</p> + +<p>"I have never read any of Mrs. Henderson's books," +he remarked.</p> + +<p>She stretched out an arm, took a volume from the +swinging table by her side, and threw it across to him.</p> + +<p>"You can glance through that while you dress," she +said.</p> + +<p>A gong rang through the house a few moments later, +and the butler brought in two cocktails on a little silver +tray.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 199]</span> +"We are having quite a solitude <i>à deux</i>, aren't we?" +Lady Hilda remarked, as she raised her glass. "I'll go +and ring up Flo on my way up-stairs."</p> + +<p>They parted a few minutes later, and John went up +to his room. He found his clothes carefully laid out, +a bright fire burning, and a bath-room leading from his +bedroom. He dressed in somewhat leisurely fashion, +and the dinner-gong rang as he descended the stairs. +He could hear Lady Hilda's voice talking on the telephone, +and made his way to her little room. She had +just laid down the receiver.</p> + +<p>"It seems," she said, "that you and I are the only +people who appreciate the country at this time of the +year. I have just been talking to Flo. She declares +that nothing in the world would tempt her down here. +She is convinced that all the trees are dropping with +damp, and that the mud is inches deep. She won't believe +a single word about the sunshine."</p> + +<p>"She isn't coming, then?"</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Fred is our last hope as a chaperon," she remarked +carelessly, as she took his arm. "I expect he'll turn +up later."</p> + +<p>Dinner—which, as John observed when they entered +the room, was laid only for two—was served at a +small, round table drawn pleasantly up to the fire. +John, who had never admired his hostess more, put all +disquieting thoughts behind him and thoroughly enjoyed +the dainty meal. The pleasant warmth of the room, +the excellent champagne, and Lady Hilda's amusing +conversation, unlocked his tongue. He talked much +more freely than usual of his life in Cumberland, of the +various half-formed plans which he had made as to the +spending of his unexpected fortune, of the new pleasure +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 200]</span> +he found in motoring, of his almost pathetic efforts to +understand and appreciate the town life which at heart +he hated. A clever listener, like most good talkers, +Lady Hilda frequently encouraged him with a sympathetic +word or two.</p> + +<p>They were sitting over their coffee and liqueurs in +two great easy chairs drawn up to the fire, when John +glanced at the clock with a little start.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's nearly ten o'clock!" he exclaimed. +"What on earth can have become of your brother?"</p> + +<p>Almost as he spoke the telephone-bell rang. It stood +on a little table behind him. Lady Hilda, who was +leaning back in her chair in an attitude of luxurious repose, +pointed lazily to it.</p> + +<p>"Answer it for me, there's a dear man," she begged.</p> + +<p>John took up the receiver. He recognized the voice +at once—it was Lady Hilda's brother who spoke.</p> + +<p>"I say, is Lady Hilda there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, where are you?" John replied. "I am John +Strangewey. We have been expecting you all the evening."</p> + +<p>"Expecting me?" was the reply. "What on earth +are you talking about? And what are you doing in the +wilderness?"</p> + +<p>"I am spending the week-end with your sister," John +replied. "I understood that you were coming."</p> + +<p>The young man at the other end laughed derisively.</p> + +<p>"Something better to do, old chap!" he said. "I +am dining with Flo Henderson—just speaking from +her flat. Send Hilda along, there's a good fellow."</p> + +<p>John turned around. His eyes met Lady Hilda's, +and he understood. He handed the receiver to her in +silence. Of the conversation which passed he scarcely +heard a word. As soon as it began, in fact, he left the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 201]</span> +room and went across the hall to the billiard room. +The lights were already lit, and cues, ready chalked, +were standing by the table.</p> + +<p>John went through a few moments of dismayed wonder. +He glanced out of the window toward the garage, +which was all in darkness. He heard the soft sweep of +Lady Hilda's skirts across the hall, the closing of the +door as she entered. Her eyes met his, as he turned +around, with something of challenge in them. Her lips +were curved in a faintly ironical smile.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she exclaimed, a little defiantly. "Shall I +telephone to London for a chaperon?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless you think it necessary," John replied, +suddenly feeling the fire of battle in his blood. "I can +assure you that I am to be trusted. On the other hand, +if you prefer it, I can motor back to town; or I can go +to the inn, and come and take you on the river in the +morning."</p> + +<p>It was obvious that she was a little surprised. She +came over to him, put her hands upon the billiard table, +and looked up into his face.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goose," she begged, "and please don't +imagine foolish things. I suppose my telegram to Fred +must have gone wrong. Anyhow, I don't think we need +anybody else. We've got along very well so far to-day, +haven't we?"</p> + +<p>"I've enjoyed every moment of it," John declared +cheerfully, "and I am looking forward more than I can +tell you to beating you at billiards, to sleeping once +more with my windows wide open and no smuts, and to +having another pull on that river in the morning. Let +me give you fifteen this time. I want to play my best!"</p> + +<p>She took up her cue with a little sigh of half-puzzled +relief. They played two games, the second one at +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 202]</span> +John's insistence. Then the butler brought in whisky +and soda.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything further to-night, madam?" he +asked, after he had arranged the tray.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Lady Hilda answered. "You can go to +bed."</p> + +<p>They played the last game almost in silence. Then +Lady Hilda replaced her cue in the rack and threw herself +into one of the easy chairs.</p> + +<p>"Bring me a whisky-and-soda," she said. "We'll +have one cigarette before we go to bed."</p> + +<p>John obeyed her, and sat by her side. She looked at +him a little questioningly. His unhesitating acceptance +of the situation had puzzled her. There was nothing +but the slightest change in his manner to denote his +realization of the fact that the house-party was a sham.</p> + +<p>"I believe you are cross," she exclaimed suddenly.</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," John replied, "I have had a +thoroughly delightful day."</p> + +<p>"You don't like people who tell fibs," she went on. +"You know quite well, now, that my house-party was a +farce. I never asked the Daunceys, I never sent a telegram +to Fred. It was simply rotten luck that he rang +me up. I asked you down here to spend the week-end +with me—alone."</p> + +<p>He looked her in the face, without the slightest +change of expression.</p> + +<p>"Then I think that it was exceedingly nice of you," +he said, "and I appreciate the compliment. Really," +he went on, with a smile, "I think we are quite safe, +aren't we? You are known as a man-hater, and you +are allowed special privileges because you are what you +are. And I am known to be in love with another +woman."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 203]</span> +She frowned slightly.</p> + +<p>"Does the whole world, then, know of your infatuation?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"It may know, for all I care," John replied simply. +"I am hoping that after Monday Louise will let me announce +it."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. A portion of the log fell +to the hearth, and John carefully replaced it upon the +fire.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember," she asked, dropping her voice +almost to a whisper, "what I said to you the first night +we met at Covent Garden, before I had any particular +interest in you, before I had come to like you?"</p> + +<p>John made no reply. Why did she again remind him +of what she had said that night?</p> + +<p>"I advised you," she went on, "not to be too rash. +I think I told you that there were better things."</p> + +<p>"There is no better thing in the world," John said +simply, "than to give every feeling of which you are +capable to the woman you love."</p> + +<p>She frowned and threw her cigarette into the +hearth.</p> + +<p>"You talk," she declared, "either like George Alexander +on the stage, or like a country bumpkin! Why +doesn't some one teach you the manners of civilized +life?"</p> + +<p>"Lady Hilda," he replied, "I am past teaching. +You see, the fact of it is that a country bumpkin is exactly +what I am."</p> + +<p>She turned her white shoulder away from him.</p> + +<p>"You will find a candle on the hall table," she +snapped.</p> + +<p>John rose at once to his feet.</p> + +<p>"It's your delightful country air, I suppose," he +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 204]</span> +said. "I am sorry if I betrayed my sleepiness, however. +Good night!"</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda made no answer. John looked backward +from the door. She had kicked off her slipper and was +warming her foot before the fire.</p> + +<p>"Good night!" he repeated. "I am going to wake +like a giant in the morning, and pull you just as far as +you like up the river!"</p> + +<p>He closed the door, lit a candle, and made his way +to his room. As soon as he was there he locked the +door and flung the window wide open. Resting his elbows +upon the window-sill, he looked out at the soft, +misty darkness. He had the sensation of having been +through some undignified fight, in which even victory +savored of shame. He felt a quivering consciousness, +half indignant, half irritated, of having been forced into +an impossible situation.</p> + +<p>Presently he began to undress. He moved about on +tiptoe, and found himself continually listening. He +heard Lady Hilda come out from the billiard room below, +heard her strike a match as she lit a candle, heard +her coming up the stairs. He stood quite still. Suddenly +he saw the handle of his door turned softly—once, +and then again. He watched it with fascinated, +almost horrified eyes. The door was shaken slightly. +A voice from outside called him.</p> + +<p>"Good night!"</p> + +<p>He made no reply. The handle ceased to rattle. +He heard retreating footsteps, the opening and closing +of Lady Hilda's door.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 205]</span></p> + +<h2>XXII</h2> + +<p>John was awakened the next morning by the sound of +rain against his window. He got out of bed and looked +upon a scene of desolation. The clouds hung low, and +rain was coming down in level sheets. The lawns and +gardens which yesterday had had the air of waiting for +the spring were to-day a sudden wilderness.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door, and the butler brought +in his tea.</p> + +<p>"Lady Hilda sends her compliments, sir," he announced, +"and as the morning is so unfavorable she will +not rise until eleven o'clock. Breakfast will be ready +down-stairs at half past nine, or can be served in your +room."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I'll come down," John replied.</p> + +<p>He bathed and shaved himself, he even packed his own +clothes. Then he left the room, descending the stairs +softly, and glancing furtively at the door of Lady Hilda's +room with an air almost of a guilty schoolboy. +He breakfasted alone and spent the morning in the +billiard room until Lady Hilda appeared.</p> + +<p>"I am a terrible hostess, am I not?" she said apologetically, +as she opened the door; "but what is there +to be done? The weather is too hopeless, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Appalling!" John agreed. "Still, it's very comfortable +in here, and I have just made a seventy-one +break."</p> + +<p>"We'll have a two hundred and fifty up—that +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 206]</span> +ought to last until lunch-time," she suggested, throwing +herself into a chair. "Give me ten minutes, will +you? This weather is so depressing. Even the effort +of getting up seems to have tired me."</p> + +<p>She threw herself into an easy chair, and John tried +to concentrate his attention upon the balls. More than +once, however, he glanced across at his hostess. She +was looking older this morning, paler, her face a little +drawn, her eyes large and soft. She sat looking into +the fire; on her knee were some letters, at which she +scarcely glanced. Presently she threw them aside and +rang the bell.</p> + +<p>"Bring me a brandy-and-soda and the cigarettes," +she told the butler. "Now, Mr. Strangewey, I am +ready," she went on, turning to John. "Give me fifty +in two hundred and fifty, if you dare!"</p> + +<p>"We'll try," he agreed.</p> + +<p>They played until lunch-time, both affecting a rapt +interest in the game. At the sound of the gong Lady +Hilda laid down her cue.</p> + +<p>"We'll finish later," she suggested.</p> + +<p>John strolled to the window. There were some signs +of clearing in the sky, although the whole place seemed +still to reek of moisture.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I shall have to start soon after lunch," +he said. "It will take some time to get up to town. +I am not a very experienced driver, and my car is a +little inclined to skid on wet roads."</p> + +<p>She made no remark, and to both of them the presence +of servants during the meal appeared to be somewhat +of a relief. The coffee and liqueurs, however, +again were served in the billiard room, and there was a +very awkward silence. For some time Lady Hilda had +baffled his efforts at ordinary conversation, and his last +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 207]</span> +few remarks about the weather she had ignored altogether.</p> + +<p>"So you are going up this evening?" she said at last.</p> + +<p>"This afternoon, if you don't mind," he replied, +glancing at the clock, and thinking of the bliss with +which he would turn his car out into the road. "I explained, +didn't I, that I had an engagement this evening?"</p> + +<p>"Quite right," she admitted. "All the same, you +are rather an inconsiderate guest, aren't you, to leave +me here alone in this swamp?"</p> + +<p>"Come, too?" he suggested. "I'll motor you up."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," she replied, "I will."</p> + +<p>He was a little taken aback, but, after all, it was perhaps +the simplest way out of his difficulties.</p> + +<p>"I'll take you, with pleasure, if you don't mind being +drenched."</p> + +<p>"I can stand physical discomforts," she said. "It's +the other sort of knocks that bruise."</p> + +<p>"It won't be so bad," he continued, ignoring her last +speech, "if you wear a mackintosh and something thick +for your head. Shouldn't wonder if it cleared up presently."</p> + +<p>Lady Hilda smiled.</p> + +<p>"I have been out in a shower in Patagonia," she reminded +him, "which lasted for three weeks. Will it +suit you to start in half an hour?"</p> + +<p>"Any time you like," he agreed.</p> + +<p>She had changed her position a little, and he was +forced to look at her.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey," she said, "I want to ask you a +question. Are you going to marry Louise Maurel?"</p> + +<p>"I am," he replied, without hesitation; "at least, I +hope to do so."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 208]</span> +She looked at him for a moment with a strange expression. +Then she rose to her feet. Her lips were +quivering. She leaned against the mantelpiece, with +her forehead upon her arms. At first he imagined that +she was going to weep; then, to his horror, he found that +she was laughing—half-hysterically, perhaps, but still +laughing. He drew a step nearer to her, but she waved +him away.</p> + +<p>"Sit down!" she gasped. "Oh, if I might tell this +to Henri Graillot! What a play! What humor! +My friend John Strangewey, I congratulate you! You +have created a new situation in life. Leave me alone, +please!"</p> + +<p>She bent forward until her face was completely hidden. +Her body was shaken. Once or twice he fancied +that her laughter had turned to sobs. When at last +she looked up, however, there were the remains of an +almost devilish mirth on her lips. She rang the bell.</p> + +<p>"That is for my maid," she said. "I am now going +to change my clothes and let you motor me up to London. +I shall get some fresh air, at any rate, and your +car always fills me with longing. Amuse yourself, won't +you? I shall be an hour getting ready, and I will order +an early tea."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't care to tell me, I suppose," he asked, +"what is the new situation in life which you say I have +created?"</p> + +<p>She turned to him from the door. She was really a +very handsome woman. Her lips were most expressive.</p> + +<p>"My friend," she said, "if you knew, if you understood, +the priceless humor of it would be gone."</p> + +<p>She closed the door and left John alone. He went +back to the billiard-table, but somehow or other his +skill seemed to have vanished. He had the picture of +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 209]</span> +her face in his mind, the subtle meaning of her lips, the +mockery of her eyes.</p> + +<p>They drove up to London almost in silence. It was +nearly seven o'clock when John swung the little car in +Pont Street. It was still raining softly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," he said, "for my week-end. +I enjoyed the river immensely yesterday afternoon."</p> + +<p>"And thank you very much for everything, Mr. John +Strangewey," she returned. "You have given me what +we are all sighing for, a new sensation—not exactly +what I expected, perhaps, but something new."</p> + +<p>"I know you think I am a country yokel and a fool," +John said; "but I wish you'd tell me why you laughed +at me in that mysterious fashion."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"It would spoil it," she replied. "Besides, it isn't +for me to tell you. I am the last person who should."</p> + +<p>They drew up outside her little house, from which +came no sign of light.</p> + +<p>"Will you dine with me to-night?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>She turned toward him quickly—and understood.</p> + +<p>"Very nice of you," she replied lightly. "I shall go +round to my club. You don't agree with me, somehow. +When I look at you or think of you, I feel inclined either +to laugh or cry, and I hate emotions. Don't get out, +please. You see, they are opening the door already."</p> + +<p>She slipped away and disappeared into her house. +John drove slowly back toward the Milan. Just as he +was turning in, a little waterproofed figure from the +pavement waved her hand and called to him. He drew +up and she hastened to his side.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?" Sophy asked. "I +thought you were spending the week-end up the river."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 210]</span> +"I stayed there last night," he answered. "To-day—well, +look at the weather! I have just motored Lady +Hilda up."</p> + +<p>"And what are you going to do now?" she inquired +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Give you some dinner," he replied promptly.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" she answered. "I have been so bored +and miserable that I went and walked over Waterloo +Bridge in a mackintosh, just to get a little air. I'll be +round in an hour. Will that do?"</p> + +<p>"Any time you like," he agreed; "the sooner the +better. I was almost wishing, a few minutes ago," he +went on, "that I could find the courage to storm you in +your little room. Louise is away, and I'm hating myself."</p> + +<p>"So I am to come and amuse my lord!" she laughed. +"Well, I'll come," she went on quickly. "We'll sit and +you shall imagine that I am Louise, and make love to +her. Will that make you happy?"</p> + +<p>John leaned out of the car.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he whispered, as he slipped in his clutch, +"just now I do not feel like making love to any woman +on earth!"</p> + +<p>"Fed up with us, eh?"</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"You're different, thank Heaven! Don't be late."</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 211]</span></p> + +<h2>XXIII</h2> + +<p>"This is very nearly my idea of perfect happiness," +Sophy murmured, as she leaned across the table and +listened idly while John ordered the dinner. "Give me +very little to eat, John, and talk a great deal to me. I +am depressed about myself and worried about everything!"</p> + +<p>"And I," he declared, "am just beginning to breathe +again. I don't think I understand women, Sophy."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't your week-end party a success?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Not altogether," he confessed; "but don't let's +talk about it. Tell me what is depressing you."</p> + +<p>"About myself, or things generally?"</p> + +<p>"Yourself, first."</p> + +<p>"Well, the most respectable young man you ever +knew in your life, who lives in Bath, wants me to marry +him. I don't think I could. I don't think I could live +in Bath, and I don't think I could marry any one. And +I've just thirteen shillings and fourpence left, I haven't +paid my rent, and my dressmaker is calling for something +on account on Monday morning."</p> + +<p>"There's only one answer to that," John insisted +cheerfully. "I am going to lend you fifty pounds while +you make your mind up about the young man."</p> + +<p>She made a face at him.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't borrow money from a strange gentleman," +she protested.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" he exclaimed. "If you begin calling me +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 212]</span> +a stranger—but there, never mind! We'll see about +that after dinner. Now what is the other cause for +depression?"</p> + +<p>"I am not very happy about you and Louise," she +observed.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated. While she seemed to be pondering +over her words, John studied her almost critically. +Unquestionably she was very pretty; her fair hair was +most becomingly arranged, her petite features and delicate +mouth were charming. Her complexion and coloring +were exquisite, her neck and throat very white +against the plain black satin of her gown.</p> + +<p>"In a way," she confessed at last, "it's the play +that's bothering me."</p> + +<p>"The play?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"You won't like it," she sighed. "The reason the +production has been delayed so long is Graillot's insistence +upon calling a spade a spade. Even with all +Louise and Miles Faraday have managed to get him to +leave out, there is one scene which is certainly a little +startling for English playgoers."</p> + +<p>"And Louise is in it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Louise is the principal figure in it."</p> + +<p>John's face darkened a little.</p> + +<p>"I have noticed lately," he remarked gloomily, "that +she rather avoids talking about the play. I wish she'd +chuck it altogether!"</p> + +<p>Sophy shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Louise won't do that," she said. "I sometimes +think that her work is more to her than anything else +in life. I suppose you two will find a way out of it, +somehow."</p> + +<p>"There is only one way, and Louise will have to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 213]</span> +make up her mind to it," John declared steadfastly. +"However, my time hasn't come just yet. Until it +comes, I must make the best of things. Tell me more +about your own love-affairs, Sophy."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a love-affair at all!" she exclaimed, almost +indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Why, I am sorry. Your prospective alliance, then, +shall I call it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't interesting," she said. "It's just a +young man in Bath. He is a lawyer and moderately +well off. He has wanted me to marry him for years. +He was a friend of my brother's. Lately he has been +bothering a little more than usual—in fact, I suppose +I have received what might be called an ultimatum. He +came up yesterday, and I went out with him last night. +He has gone back to Bath this morning, and I have +promised to let him know in a month. I think that is +why I went out to Waterloo Bridge in a mackintosh and +got wet."</p> + +<p>"Do you like him?" John asked practically.</p> + +<p>"I like him, I suppose," Sophy sighed. "That's +the worst of it. If I didn't like him, there might be +some chance. I can't realize myself ever doing more +than liking him in a mild sort of way; and if he expected +more, as of course he would, then I should probably +hate him. He tried to kiss me on the way to the +station and I nearly scratched him. That isn't like +me, you know. I rather like being kissed sometimes."</p> + +<p>John buried himself in the wine-list.</p> + +<p>"Well," he admitted, "it doesn't sound very hopeful. +I'm no sort of judge in these matters, but I have +heard lots of people say that one gets on all right after +marriage without caring very much before. You don't +seem to have a very comfortable life now, do you?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 214]</span> +"Comfortable? No, but I am free," Sophy replied +quickly. "I can come in and go out when I please, +choose my own friends, give my kisses to whom I please. +Marriage—the sort of marriage mine would be—is +slavery, and nothing else. What I am afraid of," she +went on, "is that when I was down in that highly respectable +old city, sitting all day in a respectable little +villa, with two servants to order about and housekeeping-books +to keep, I should feel the old pull come over +me, and some day I should chuck it all and come back +here to play around under the lights. It's rather fine +to be here, you know—to be in the atmosphere, even +if the lime-light misses one."</p> + +<p>John sighed, and regarded her thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"You're a queer little girl, Sophy," he said. "I +don't know how to advise you."</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't," she answered. "No one +could. As for you, I suppose you will marry Louise. +What will happen to you after that, I don't know. +Perhaps I sha'n't care so much about London then. +You've made it very nice for me, you know."</p> + +<p>"You've made it bearable even for me," he told her. +"I often think how lonely I should have been without +you to talk to. Louise sometimes is delightfully companionable, +and kind enough to turn one's head. Other +days I scarcely understand her; everything we say to +one another seems wrong. I come away and leave her +simply because I feel that there is a wall between us that +I can't get over."</p> + +<p>"There isn't really," Sophy sighed. "Louise is a +dear. Considering everything, I think she is wonderful. +But you are utterly different. She is very complex, +very emotional, and she has her own standards of +life. You, on the other hand, are very simple, very +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 215]</span> +faithful and honest, and you accept the standards +which have been made for you—very, very rigidly, +John."</p> + +<p>"I wonder!" he murmured, as he looked into his +wine-glass. "Sometimes I think I am a fool. Sometimes +I think I'd do better to let go the strings and just +live as others do. Sometimes ideas come into one's +head that upset principles and everything. I don't +know!"</p> + +<p>Sophy leaned across the table toward him.</p> + +<p>"Be a little more human, John," she begged. "You +must feel kind things sometimes. Couldn't you say +them? I am depressed and gloomy. Be like other men, +for once, and flirt with me a little! Try to say things, +even if you don't mean them—just for once, for a few +short hours!"</p> + +<p>He held her hand for a moment. The fingers seemed +to respond to his touch with a little thrill.</p> + +<p>"You silly child!" he exclaimed. "If I were to begin +to say all the kind things I feel about you—"</p> + +<p>"Begin, then—begin!" she interrupted. "What +do you think of me, really? Am I pretty? Do you +like to have me here at the table with you, or is your +mind too full of Louise? Do you notice that I've a +pretty frock on, and my hair is nicely arranged? I +have taken so much trouble to-night. What are you +looking at?"</p> + +<p>John's whole expression had suddenly changed. His +eyes were fixed upon the door, his face was stern as a +granite block. Sophy turned quickly around. The +<i>maître d'hôtel</i>, with another satellite in his rear, was +welcoming with much ceremony two lately arrived +guests. Sophy clutched at the table-cloth. The newcomers +were Louise and the Prince of Seyre.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 216]</span> +"I don't understand this!" John muttered, his lips +twitching.</p> + +<p>Sophy Gerard said nothing. Her cheeks were pink +with excitement.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Louise saw John and Sophy. She stood +quite still for a moment; then she came toward them, +slowly and a little languidly. The prince was still +studying through his eye-glass the various tables which +the head waiter was offering for his consideration.</p> + +<p>"What an astonishing meeting!" Louise remarked, +as she laid her hand for a moment on Sophy's shoulder. +"What is going on behind my back?"</p> + +<p>John rose very slowly to his feet. He seemed taller +than ever, and Louise's smile remained unanswered.</p> + +<p>"The rain broke up my week-end party," he explained, +"and I met Sophy in the Strand. In any case, +I intended returning to-night. I understood that you +would not be here until to-morrow about eleven o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Those were my plans," Louise replied; "but, as you +see, other things have intervened. Our little house +party, too, was broken up by this abominable weather, +and we all motored up to town. The Faradays have +gone home. The prince heard from Miles that I was at +home, and telephoned me to dine. <i>Me voici!</i>"</p> + +<p>John was struggling with a crowd of hateful thoughts. +Louise was wearing a wonderful gown; her hair was +beautifully arranged; she had the air of a woman whose +toilet was complete and perfect down to the slightest +detail. The prince's slow drawl reached them distinctly.</p> + +<p>"It was my servant's fault, I suppose," he said. +"I told him to ring up last night and order the table +for two in that corner. However, we will take the +vacant one near your desk."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 217]</span> +He looked around and, as if for the first time, missed +Louise. He came toward them at once.</p> + +<p>"The prince seems to have ordered his table last +night," John remarked, his tone, even to himself, sounding +queer and strained.</p> + +<p>Louise made no reply. The prince was already shaking +hands with Sophy.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were spending the week-end with my +cousin, Strangewey," he remarked, turning to John.</p> + +<p>"We did spend part of it together," John replied. +"The weather drove us back this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I congratulate you both on your good taste," said +the prince. "There is nothing more abominable than a +riverside retreat out of season. We are taking the +table on the left, Louise."</p> + +<p>He led her away, and they passed down the room. +John slowly resumed his seat.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he demanded hoarsely, "tell me the truth. +Is there anything between the prince and Louise?"</p> + +<p>Sophy nervously crumbled up the toast by her side.</p> + +<p>"The prince admires Louise, and has done so for +many years," she answered. "No one knows anything +else. Louise never speaks of him to me. I cannot tell +you."</p> + +<p>"But you must know," he persisted, with a little +break in his voice. "Forgive me, Sophy, if I make an +ass of myself. First Lady Hilda, and then Graillot, +and then—well, I thought Louise might have rung up +to see whether I was at home, if she came back sooner +than she expected; and the prince took the table last +night!"</p> + +<p>She leaned over and patted him on the hand.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," she begged. "If Louise has to +choose some day between him and you, I don't think +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 218]</span> +she'll hesitate very long. And please remember that +you were commencing to flirt with me. I insist upon it! +I won't be put off. Don't look so stern, please. You +look very statuesque and perfect, but I don't want to +dine with a piece of sculpture. Remember that I am +really looking very pretty, and that I am finding you +too attractive for my peace of mind. There's your +text!"</p> + +<p>He poured a glass of wine and drank it off.</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best," he agreed. "If it sounds like +rubbish, you can still believe that I appreciate everything +you've told me. You are pretty, and I am lucky +to have you here. Now I'll try to make you believe that +I think so."</p> + +<p>She leaned over so that her head almost touched his.</p> + +<p>"Go on, please!" she murmured. "Even if it hurts +afterward, it will be heavenly to listen to!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 219]</span></p> + +<h2>XXIV</h2> + +<p>The next night Sophy acted as showman. Her part +was over at the end of the first act, and a few minutes +later she slipped into a seat by John's side behind the +curtain.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of it so far?" she asked, a little +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It seems quite good," John replied cheerfully. +"Some very clever lines, and all that sort of thing; but +I can't quite see what it's all leading to."</p> + +<p>Sophy peered around the house from behind the curtain.</p> + +<p>"There isn't standing-room anywhere," she declared. +"I don't suppose there ever was a play in London that +was more talked about; and then putting it off for more +than three months—why, there have been all sorts of +rumors about. Do you want to know who the people in +the audience are?"</p> + +<p>"Not particularly," John answered. "I shouldn't +know them, if you told me. There are just a few +familiar faces. I see the prince in the box opposite."</p> + +<p>"Did you telephone to Louise to-day?" Sophy asked.</p> + +<p>John shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No. I thought it better to leave her alone until +after to-night."</p> + +<p>"You are going to the supper, of course?"</p> + +<p>"I have been asked," John replied, a little doubtfully. +"I don't quite know whether I want to. Is it being +given by the prince or by the management?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 220]</span> +"The management," Sophy assured him. "Do come +and take me! It's going to be rather fun."</p> + +<p>The curtain went up upon the second act. John, +from the shadows of the box, listened attentively. The +subject was not a particularly new one, but the writing +was brilliant. There was the old <i>Marquis de Guy</i>, a +roué, a degenerate, but still overbearing and full of personality, +from whose lips came some of Graillot's most +brilliant sayings; Louise, his wife; and Faraday, a +friend of the old marquis, and obviously the intended +lover of his wife.</p> + +<p>"I don't see anything so terrible in this," John remarked, +as the curtain went down once more and thunders +of applause greeted some wonderful lines of Graillot's.</p> + +<p>"It's wonderful!" Sophy declared. "Try and bear +the thread of it all in your mind. For two acts you +have been asked to focus your attention upon the increasing +brutality of the marquis. Remember that, +won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Not likely to forget it," John replied. "How well +they all act!"</p> + +<p>There was a quarter of an hour's interval before the +curtain rose again. Rumors concerning the last act +had been floating about for weeks, and the house was +almost tense with excitement as the curtain went up. +The scene was the country <i>château</i> of the <i>Marquis de +Guy</i>, who brought a noisy crowd of companions from +Paris without any warning. His wife showed signs of +dismay at his coming. He had brought with him women +whom she declined to receive.</p> + +<p>The great scene between her husband and herself took +place in the square hall of the <i>château</i>, on the first floor. +The marquis is on the way to the room of one of his +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 221]</span> +guests. Louise reaffirms her intention of leaving the +house. Her husband laughs at her. Her position is +helpless.</p> + +<p>"What can you do?" he mocks.</p> + +<p>She shrugs her shoulders and passes into her room. +The marquis sinks upon a settee, and presently is joined +by one of the ladies who have traveled with him from +Paris. He talks to her of the pictures upon the wall. +She is impatient to meet the <i>Marquis de Guy</i>.</p> + +<p>The marquis knocks at his wife's door. Her voice is +heard clearly, after a moment's pause.</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes!" she replies.</p> + +<p>The marquis resumes his flirtation. His companion +becomes impatient—the marquis has pledged his word +that she should be received by his wife. An ancient +enmity against the <i>Marquis de Guy</i> prompts her to +insist.</p> + +<p>The marquis shrugs his shoulders and knocks more +loudly than ever at his wife's door. She comes out—followed +by Faraday.</p> + +<p>"You asked me what I could do," she says, pointing +to her lover. "You see now!"</p> + +<p>There was a moment's breathless silence through the +house. The scene in itself was a little beyond anything +that the audience had expected. Sophy, who had been +leaning over the edge of the box, turned around in no +little anxiety. She heard the door slam. John had +disappeared!</p> + +<p>He left the theater with only his hat in his hand, +turning up his coat by instinct as he passed through +the driving rain. All his senses seemed tingling with +some nameless horror. The brilliance of the language, +the subtlety of the situation, seemed like some evil trail +drawn across that one horrible climax. It was Louise +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 222]</span> +who had come from that room and pointed to Faraday! +Louise who confessed herself a—</p> + +<p>He broke out into language as he walked. The desire +of Samson burned in his heart—to stride back +into the theater, to smash the scenery, to throw the +puppets from the stage, one by one, to end forever this +ghastly, unspeakable play. And all the time the applause +rang in his ears. He had read with one swift +glance the tense interest—almost lascivious, it seemed +to him—on the faces of that great audience. The +scene had tickled their fancies. It was to pander to +such base feelings that Louise was upon the stage!</p> + +<p>He reached his rooms—he scarcely knew how—and +walked up-stairs. There he threw off some of his dripping +garments, opened the window wide, and stood +there.</p> + +<p>He looked out over the Thames, and there was a red +fire before his eyes. Stephen was right, he told himself. +There was nothing but evil to be found here, +nothing but bitter disappointment, nothing but the pain +which deepens into anguish. Better to remain like Stephen, +unloving and unloved, to draw nearer to the +mountains, to find joy in the crops and the rain and the +sunshine, to listen stonily to the cry of human beings +as if to some voice from an unknown world.</p> + +<p>He leaned a little further from the window, and gazed +into the court at a dizzy depth below. He had cut +himself adrift from the peace which might have been +his. He would never know again the joys of his earlier +life. It was for this that he had fought so many battles, +clung so tightly to one ideal—for Louise, who +could show herself to any one who cared to pay his +shilling or his half-guinea, glorying in her dishonor; +worse than glorying in it—finding some subtle humor +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 223]</span> +in the little gesture with which she had pointed, unashamed, +to her lover.</p> + +<p>John bent a little lower from the window. A sudden +dizziness seemed to have come over him. Then he was +forced to turn around. His door had been quickly +opened and shut. It was Sophy who was crossing +toward him, the rain streaming from her ruined opera-cloak.</p> + +<p>"John!" she cried. "Oh, John!"</p> + +<p>She led him back to his chair and knelt by his side. +She held his hands tightly.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't feel like this," she sobbed; "you +mustn't, John, really! You don't understand. It's +all a play. Louise wouldn't really do anything like +that!"</p> + +<p>He shivered. Nevertheless, he clutched her hands +and drew her closer to him.</p> + +<p>"Do, please, listen to me," she begged. "It's all +over. Louise is herself again—Louise Maurel. The +<i>Marquis de Guy</i> never lived except upon these boards. +It is simply a wonderful creation. Any one of the great +actresses would play that part and glory in it—the +very greatest, John. Oh, it's so hard to make you understand! +Louise is waiting for you. They are all +waiting at the supper-party. You are expected. You +must go and tell her that you think it was wonderful!"</p> + +<p>He rose slowly to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful!" he muttered. "Wonderful! But, +child, it is damnable!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish," she answered. "Go and put on +another dress coat, tie your tie again, and brush your +hair. I have come to take you to the supper."</p> + +<p>He caught at her hands roughly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 224]</span> +"Supposing I won't go?" he whispered hoarsely. +"Supposing—I keep you here instead, Sophy?"</p> + +<p>She swayed for a moment. Something flashed into +her face and passed away. She was paler than ever.</p> + +<p>"Dear John," she begged, "pull yourself together! +Remember that Louise is waiting for you. It's Louise +you want—not me. Nothing that she has done to-night +should make her any the less worthy of you and +your love."</p> + +<p>He strode away into the farther room. He reappeared +in a moment or two, his hair smoothly brushed, +his tie newly arranged.</p> + +<p>"I'll come, little girl," he promised. "I don't know +what I'll say to her, but I'll come. There can't be any +harm in that!"</p> + +<p>"Of course not," she answered cheerfully. "You're +the most terrible goose, John," she added, as they walked +down the corridor. "Do, please, lose your tragical +air. The whole world is at Louise's feet to-night. +You mustn't let her know how absurdly you have been +feeling. To-morrow you will find that every paper in +London will be acclaiming her genius."</p> + +<p>John squared his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"All the same," he declared grimly, "if I could burn +the theater and the play, and lock up Graillot for a +month, to-night, I'd do it!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 225]</span></p> + +<h2>XXV</h2> + +<p>The days and weeks drifted into months, and John +remained in London. His circle of friends and his interests +had widened. It was only his relations with +Louise which remained still unchanged. Always charming +to him, giving him much of her time, favoring him, +beyond a doubt, more than any of her admirers, there +was yet about her something elusive, something which +seemed intended to keep him so far as possible at arm's +length.</p> + +<p>There was nothing tangible of which he could complain, +and this probationary period was of his own suggestion. +He bore it grimly, holding his place, whenever +it was possible, by her side with dogged persistence. +Then one evening there was a knock at his door, and +Stephen Strangewey walked in.</p> + +<p>After all, this meeting, of which John had often +thought, and which sometimes he had dreaded a little, +turned out to be a very ordinary affair. Stephen, although +he seemed a little taller and gaunter than ever, +though he seemed to bring into the perhaps overwarmed +atmosphere of John's little sitting room something of +the cold austerity of his own domain, had evidently +come in no unfriendly spirit. He took both his brother's +hands in his and gripped them warmly.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, Stephen!" +John declared.</p> + +<p>"It has been an effort to me to come," Stephen admitted. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 226]</span> +"But I had it in my mind, John, that we +parted bad friends. I have come to see how things are +with you."</p> + +<p>"Well enough," John answered evasively. "Sit +down."</p> + +<p>Stephen held his brother away from him, gripping his +shoulders with both hands. He looked steadily into his +face.</p> + +<p>"Well enough you may be, John," he said, "but +your looks tell a different story. There's a look in your +eyes already that they all get here, sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" John protested cheerfully. "No one +pretends that the life here is quite as healthy as ours, +physically, but that isn't everything. I am a little tired +to-day, perhaps. One spends one's time differently up +here, you know, and there's a little more call upon the +brain, a little less upon the muscles."</p> + +<p>"Give me an example," Stephen suggested. "What +were you doing last night, for instance?"</p> + +<p>John rang the bell for some tea, took his brother's +hat and stick from his hand, and installed him in an easy +chair.</p> + +<p>"I went to a political meeting down in the East +End," he replied. "One of the things I am trying to +take a little more interest in up here is politics."</p> + +<p>"No harm in that, anyway," Stephen admitted. +"That all?"</p> + +<p>"The meeting was over about eleven," John continued. +"After that I came up here, changed my +clothes, and went to a dance."</p> + +<p>"At that time of night?"</p> + +<p>John laughed.</p> + +<p>"Why, nothing of that sort ever begins until eleven +o'clock," he explained. "I stayed there for about an +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 227]</span> +hour or so, and afterward I went round to a club I belong +to, with the Prince of Seyre and some other men. +They played bridge, and I watched."</p> + +<p>"So that's one of your evenings, is it?" Stephen remarked. +"No great harm in such doings—nor much +good, that I can see. With the Prince of Seyre, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"I see him occasionally."</p> + +<p>"He is one of your friends now?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," John admitted, frowning. "Sometimes +I think he is, sometimes I am not so sure. At any +rate, he has been very kind to me."</p> + +<p>"He is by way of being a friend of the young woman +herself, isn't he?" Stephen asked bluntly.</p> + +<p>"He has been a friend of Miss Maurel since she first +went on the stage," John replied. "It is no doubt for +her sake that he has been so kind to me."</p> + +<p>"And how's the courting getting on?" Stephen demanded, +his steely eyes suddenly intent.</p> + +<p>"None too well," John confessed.</p> + +<p>"Are you still in earnest about it?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely! More than ever!"</p> + +<p>Stephen produced his pipe from his pocket, and +slowly filled it.</p> + +<p>"She is keeping you dangling at her heels, and giving +you no sort of answer?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," John declared, +good-humoredly. "I asked her to marry me as +soon as I came up, and we both agreed to wait for a +time. You see, her life has been so extraordinarily different +from mine. I have only half understood the +things which to her are like the air she breathes. She +is a great artist, and I scarcely ever leave her without +feeling appallingly ignorant. Our life down in Cumberland, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 228]</span> +Stephen, is well enough in its way, but it leaves +us outside many of the great things of life."</p> + +<p>"That may be true enough, boy," Stephen admitted, +blowing out dense volumes of smoke from his pipe; "but +are you sure that it's toward those great things that she +is pointing you?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it," John answered earnestly. "I appreciate +that in my heart. Let us talk together, Stephen, +as we used. I will admit that I have found most +of the time up here wearisome. On the other hand, I +am beginning to understand that I have been, and still +am, very ignorant. There is so much in the world that +one can only learn by experience."</p> + +<p>"And what are you willing to pay for the knowledge?" +Stephen asked. "Your health, I suppose, your +simple life, your love of the pure ways—all these are to +go into the melting-pot?"</p> + +<p>"There's no such payment demanded for the things +I am thinking of," John assured his brother. "Take +art, for instance: We reach the fringe of it with our +books. There are pictures, even here in London, which +when you look at them, especially with one who understands, +give a new vigor to your understanding, a new +resource to living. You become conscious of a new +beauty in the world, a new garden, as it were, into which +one can wander every day and yet not explore it in a +lifetime. I have seen enough, Stephen, to make me +want to go to Italy. It's a shameful thing to keep one's +brain and taste unemployed!"</p> + +<p>"Who takes you to see the pictures?" Stephen demanded.</p> + +<p>"Miss Maurel, generally. She understands these +things better than any one I have ever talked with."</p> + +<p>"Pictures, eh?" Stephen grunted.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 229]</span> +"I mentioned pictures as an example," John continued; +"but the love of them includes many other +things."</p> + +<p>"Theaters?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," John assented. "It's no good being +narrow about theaters, Stephen. You read books readily +enough, and theaters are only living books, after all. +There is no real difference."</p> + +<p>"There is a difference in plays, though, as there is a +difference in books," Stephen reminded him. "What +about the play Miss Maurel is acting in now? She's a +man's mistress in it, isn't she, and glories in it?"</p> + +<p>John, who had been walking about the room, came +and sat down opposite to his brother. He leaned a little +forward.</p> + +<p>"Stephen," he confessed, "I loathed that play the +first night I saw it. I sha'n't forget how miserable I +was. Louise was so wonderful that I could see how she +swayed all that audience just by lifting or dropping her +voice; but the story was a horror to me. The next day—well, +she talked to me. She was very kind and very +considerate. She explained many things. I try my +best, now, to look at the matter from her point of +view."</p> + +<p>Stephen's eyes were filled for a moment with silent +scorn. Then he knocked out the ashes from his +pipe.</p> + +<p>"You're content, then, to let the woman you want to +make your wife show herself on the stage and play the +wanton for folks to grin at?" he asked.</p> + +<p>John rose once more to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Stephen," he begged, a little wistfully, +"it isn't any use talking like that, is it? If you have +come here with evil things in your mind about the woman +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 230]</span> +I love, we had better shake hands and part quickly. +She'll be my wife some day, or I shall count my life a +failure, and I don't want to feel that words have passed +between us—"</p> + +<p>"I'll say no more, John," Stephen interrupted. "I +was hoping, when I came, that there might be a chance +of seeing you back home again soon. It's going to be +an early spring. There was June sunshine yesterday. +It lay about the hillsides all day and brought the tender +greens out of the earth. It opened the crocuses, waxy +yellow and white, all up the garden border. The hedgerows +down in the valley smelled of primrose and violets. +Art and pictures! I never had such schooling as you, +John, but there was old Dr. Benson at Clowmarsh—I +always remember what he said one day, just before I +left. I'd been reading Ruskin, and I asked him what art +was and what it meant. 'My boy,' he answered, 'art +simply represents man's passionate desire to drag the +truth out of life in half a dozen different ways. God +does it for you in the country!' They called him an +ignorant man, old Benson, for a schoolmaster, but when +I'd struggled through what I could of Ruskin, I came to +the conclusion that he and I were something of the same +mind."</p> + +<p>"It's good to hear you talk like that, Stephen," John +said earnestly. "You're making me homesick, but +what's the sense of it? For good or for evil, I am here +to wrestle with things for a bit."</p> + +<p>"It's no easy matter for me to open out the things +that are in my heart," Stephen answered. "I am one +of the old-fashioned Strangeweys. What I feel is +pretty well locked up inside. The last time you and I +met perhaps I spoke too much; so here I am!"</p> + +<p>"It's fine of you," John declared. "I remember +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 231]</span> +nothing of that day. We will look at things squarely +together, even where we differ. I'm—"</p> + +<p>He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The door +had been suddenly opened, and Sophy Gerard made a +somewhat impetuous entrance.</p> + +<p>"I'm absolutely sick of ringing, John," she exclaimed. +"Oh, I beg your pardon! I hadn't the least idea you +had any one with you."</p> + +<p>She stood still in surprise, a little apologetic smile +upon her lips. John hastened forward and welcomed +her.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Sophy," he declared. "Let me introduce +my brother, may I? My brother Stephen—Miss +Sophy Gerard."</p> + +<p>Stephen rose slowly from his place, laid down his +pipe, and bowed stiffly to Sophy. She held out her +hand, however, and smiled up at him delightfully.</p> + +<p>"How nice of you to come and see your poor, lonely +brother!" she said. "We have done our best to spoil +him, but I am afraid he is very homesick sometimes. +I hope you've come to stay a long time and to learn all +about London, as John is doing. If you are half as +nice as he is, we'll give you such a good time!"</p> + +<p>From his great height, Stephen looked down upon +the girl's upturned face a little austerely. She chattered +away, entirely unabashed.</p> + +<p>"I do hope you're not shocked at my bursting in +upon your brother like this! We really are great pals, +and I live only just across the way. We are much less +formal up here, you know, than you are in the country. +John, I've brought you a message from Louise."</p> + +<p>"About to-night?"</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"Louise is most frightfully sorry," she explained, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 232]</span> +"but she has to go down to Streatham to open a bazaar, +and she can't possibly be back in time to dine before the +theater. Can you guess what she dared to suggest?"</p> + +<p>"I think I can," John replied, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Say you will, there's a dear," she begged. "I am +not playing to-night. May Enser is going on in my +place. We arranged it a week ago. I had two fines to +pay on Saturday, and I haven't had a decent meal this +week. But I had forgotten," she broke off, with a sudden +note of disappointment in her tone. "There's your +brother. I mustn't take you away from him."</p> + +<p>"We'll all have dinner together," John suggested. +"You'll come, of course, Stephen?"</p> + +<p>Stephen shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said, "I am due at my hotel. I'm +going back to Cumberland to-morrow morning, and my +errand is already done."</p> + +<p>"You will do nothing of the sort!" John declared.</p> + +<p>"Please be amiable," Sophy begged. "If you won't +come with us, I shall simply run away and leave you with +John. You needn't look at your clothes," she went on. +"We can go to a grill-room. John sha'n't dress, either. +I want you to tell me all about Cumberland, where this +brother of yours lives. He doesn't tell us half +enough!"</p> + +<p>John passed his arm through his brother's and led him +away.</p> + +<p>"Come and have a wash, old chap," he said.</p> + +<p>They dined together at Luigi's, a curiously assorted +trio—Sophy, between the two men, supplying a distinctly +alien note. She was always gay, always amusing, +but although she addressed most of her remarks to +Stephen, he never once unbent. He ate and drank +simply, seldom speaking of himself or his plans, and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 233]</span> +firmly negativing all their suggestions for the remainder +of the evening. Occasionally he glanced at the clock. +John became conscious of a certain feeling of curiosity, +which in a sense Sophy shared.</p> + +<p>"Your brother seems to me like a man with a purpose," +she said, as they stood in the entrance-hall on +their way out of the restaurant. "Like a prophet with +a mission, perhaps I should say."</p> + +<p>John nodded. In the little passage where they stood, +he and Stephen seemed to dwarf the passers-by. The +men, in their evening clothes and pallid faces, seemed +suddenly insignificant, and the women like dolls.</p> + +<p>"For the last time, Stephen," John said, "won't you +come to a music-hall with us?"</p> + +<p>"I have made my plans for the evening, thank you," +Stephen replied, holding out his hand. "Good night!"</p> + +<p>He left them standing there and walked off down the +Strand. John, looking after him, frowned. He was +conscious of a certain foreboding.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 234]</span></p> + +<h2>XXVI</h2> + +<p>"I suppose," Sophy sighed, as they waited for a taxicab, +"we shall spend the remainder of the evening in the +usual fashion!"</p> + +<p>"Do you mind?" John asked.</p> + +<p>"No," she assented resignedly. "That play will end +by making a driveling idiot of me. Only think for +yourself! At first we had to rehearse an extra month +to please M. Graillot. I never had more than a dozen +lines to say, even before my part was practically cut +out, but I had to be there every time. Now it has been +running for I don't know how many nights, I have +played in it half the time, and if your highness ever +vouchsafes me a few hours in the evening, you turn to +me about nine o'clock with just the same plaintive expression, +and murmur something about going on to the +theater!"</p> + +<p>"We'll do something else to-night," John proposed +heroically. "I really had no idea that you were so +fed up with it."</p> + +<p>Sophy shook her head. They were in the taxicab +now and on their way.</p> + +<p>"Too late!" she sighed. "Besides, my sense of +economy revolts at the idea of your empty box. If +Louise is tired to-night, though, I warn you that I shall +insist upon supper."</p> + +<p>"It's a bargain," John promised. "We'll drive +Louise home, and then I'll take you back to Luigi's. +We haven't been out together for some time, have we?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 235]</span> +She looked up at him with a little grimace and patted +his hand.</p> + +<p>"You have neglected me," she said. "I think all +these fine ladies have turned your head."</p> + +<p>She drew a little closer to him and passed her arm +through his. John made no responsive movement. He +was filled with resentment at the sensation of pleasure +that her affectionate gesture gave him.</p> + +<p>"I might as well try to flirt with a statue!" she declared, +discontentedly. "What makes you so unlike +other people, you man of granite? You used to kiss me +very clumsily when I asked you to, and now—why, +how hot your hand is!"</p> + +<p>John pushed her away almost roughly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know I did," he admitted, "and now I don't +want to any more, do you see? It's this cursed place +and this cursed life! One's feet seem always on the +sands. I wouldn't have believed it when I first came +here. Don't tease me, Sophy," he added, turning +toward her suddenly. "I am rather inclined to despise +myself these last few weeks. Don't make me worse—don't +make me loathe myself!"</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders a little pettishly as she +leaned back in the cab.</p> + +<p>"You are nothing but a crank," she declared; "you +and your brother, too! You've lived among those +flinty rocks till you've become almost like them yourselves."</p> + +<p>The taxi drew up at the theater. John, with a little +sigh of relief, was already out upon the pavement. +Sophy's eyes were still shining at him through her veil, +as she walked lightly and gracefully by his side, but he +led the way in silence down the stairs to the box that he +had taken for the season.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 236]</span> +"And now," she exclaimed with a pout, as she leaned +back in the corner, "my little reign is over! You will +sit in the front seat and you will look at Louise, and +feel Louise, and your eyes will shine Louise, until the +moment for your escape comes, when you can go round +to the back and meet her; and then you will try to make +excuses to get rid of me, so that you can drive her home +alone!"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish, Sophy!" he answered, as he drew a chair +to her side. "You know quite well that I can't sit in +the front of the box, for the very prosaic reason that I +haven't changed my clothes. We shall both have to +linger here in the shadows."</p> + +<p>"Well, there is some comfort in that, at any rate," +Sophy confessed. "If I become absolutely overcome +by my emotions, I can hold your hand."</p> + +<p>"You had better not," John observed. "The stage +manager has his eye on you. If his own artists won't +behave in the theater, what can he expect of the audience?"</p> + +<p>Sophy made a little grimace. "If they stop my three +pounds a week," she murmured, "I shall either have to +starve or become your valet!"</p> + +<p>The curtain was up and the play in progress—a +work of genius rather in its perfectly balanced development +and its phraseology than in any originality of +motive. Louise, married as an ingénue, so quickly +transformed into the brilliant woman of society poking +mild fun at the unsympathetic husband to whom she has +been sold while still striving to do her duty as a wife, +easily dominated every situation. The witty speeches +seemed to sparkle upon her lips. While she was upon +the stage, every spoken sentence was listened to with +rapt attention. Graillot, seated as usual among the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 237]</span> +shadows of the opposite box, moved his head appreciatively +each time she spoke, as if punctuating the measured +insolence of her brilliance.</p> + +<p>Exquisitely gowned, full of original and daring gestures, +she moved about the stage as if her feet scarcely +touched the boards. She was full of fire and life in the +earlier stages of the comedy. She heaped mild ridicule +upon her husband and his love-affairs, exchanged light +sallies with her guests, or parried with resourceful +subtlety the constant appeals of the man she loved.</p> + +<p>The spell of it all, against which he had so often +fought, came over John anew. He set his chair back +against the wall and watched and listened, a veritable +sense of hypnotism creeping over his senses. Presently +the same impulse which had come to him so many times +before induced him to turn his head, to read in the faces +of the audience the reflection of her genius. He had +often watched those long lines of faces changing, each +in its own way, under the magic of her art. To-night +he looked beyond. He knew very well that his search +had a special object. Suddenly he gripped the arms of +his chair. In the front row of the pit, sitting head and +shoulders taller than the men and women who lounged +over the wooden rest in front of them, was Stephen. +More than ever, among these unappropriate surroundings, +he seemed to represent something almost patriarchal, +a forbidding and disapproving spirit sitting in +judgment upon some modern and unworthy wantonness. +His face, stern and grave, showed little sign of approval +or disapproval, but to John's apprehending eyes the +critical sense was there, the verdict foredoomed. He +understood as in a flash that Stephen had come there to +judge once more the woman whom his brother desired.</p> + +<p>At last the second act ended, and John pushed back +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 238]</span> +his chair. Sophy, whose apprehensions were remarkably +acute, especially where John was concerned, lifted +the edge of the curtain and understood. She exchanged +a quick glance with her companion.</p> + +<p>"He won't like it!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"If only we could get him away before the next act!" +John muttered.</p> + +<p>They both glanced once more into the auditorium below. +Many of the spectators had left their places to +stroll about. Not so Stephen. Unflinchingly he sat +there, with an air of dogged patience. He had bought +a program and was reading the names, one by one.</p> + +<p>"Is there nothing we can do?" Sophy asked. +"Couldn't we send a message—persuade him that the +last act isn't worth staying for?"</p> + +<p>John shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Stephen has come here with a purpose," he said +gloomily. "I might have guessed it. He will see it +through. He will sit there till the end."</p> + +<p>The curtain went up again and the play moved on, +with subtle yet inevitable dramatic power, toward the +hated and dreaded crisis. Louise's moment of combined +weakness and strength was so wonderfully natural, so +very human, that its approach sent a thrill of anticipation +through the audience. The intense lifelikeness of +the play predominated over every other feeling. It was +as if real things were happening, as if they were watching +and listening to a woman at the moment of her +choice. And then at last the tense moment, the sudden +cessation of her husband's foolish laughter and futile +taunts, the supreme dénouement with its interval +of breathless silence.</p> + +<p>John, who was slowly tearing his program to pieces, +turned his head toward the spot where his brother was +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 239]</span> +sitting in the dimmer light. Stephen's countenance +seemed to have changed into the color as well as the +likeness of those granite rocks. The line of faces on +either side of him appeared now curiously featureless. +His eyes were still riveted upon that closed door, his +eyebrows had come together in a stupendous frown.</p> + +<p>Sophy had parted the curtain and was peeping +through.</p> + +<p>"Nothing in the world could make him understand!" +she murmured. "Do you think it would be of any use +if we met him outside?"</p> + +<p>John shook his head.</p> + +<p>"You can't convince people," he replied, "when you +are unconvinced yourself."</p> + +<p>The play came to an end presently, amid a storm of +applause. The grim figure in the front of the pit remained +motionless and silent. He was one of the last +to leave, and John watched his retreating figure with a +sigh. Sophy drew him away.</p> + +<p>"We had better hurry round," she said. "Louise is +always very quick getting ready."</p> + +<p>They found her, as a matter of fact, in the act of +leaving. She welcomed them naturally enough, but +John fancied that her greeting showed some signs of embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"You knew that I was going out to supper to-night?" +she asked. "Or didn't I tell you? The prince +has asked the French people from His Majesty's to +meet M. Graillot at supper. I am hurrying home to +dress."</p> + +<p>John handed her into her waiting automobile in silence. +She glanced into his face.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 240]</span> +"The prince would have asked you, without a doubt," +Louise continued, "but he knows that you are not really +interested in the stage, and this party is entirely French—they +do not speak a word of English. <i>Au revoir!</i> +Sophy, take care of him, and mind you behave yourselves!"</p> + +<p>She waved her hand to them both and threw herself +back among the cushions as the car glided off. John +walked to the corner of the street in gloomy silence. +Then he remembered his companion. He stopped +short.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he begged, "don't hold me to my promise. +I don't want to take you out to supper to-night. I am +not in the humor for it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish!" she replied. "If you stay +alone, you will only imagine things and be miserable. +We needn't have any supper, unless you like. Let me +come and sit in your rooms with you."</p> + +<p>"No!" he decided, almost roughly. "I am losing +myself, Sophy. I am losing something of my strength +every day. Louise doesn't help as she might. Don't +stay with me, please. I am beginning to have moods, +and when they come on I want to be alone."</p> + +<p>She drew a little closer to him.</p> + +<p>"Let me come, please!" she begged, with a pathetic, +almost childlike quiver at the corner of her lips.</p> + +<p>He looked down at her. A sudden wave of tenderness +swept every other thought from his mind. His mental +balance seemed suddenly restored. He hailed a passing +taxi and handed Sophy into it.</p> + +<p>"What a selfish pig I am!" he exclaimed. "Anyhow, +it's all over now. We'll go back to Luigi's to supper, +by all means. I am going to make you tell me all +about that young man from Bath!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 241]</span></p> + +<h2>XXVII</h2> + +<p>Louise glanced at her watch, sat up in bed, and turned +reproachfully toward Aline.</p> + +<p>"Aline, do you know it is only eleven o'clock?" she +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, <i>madame</i>," the latter hastened to +explain, "but there is a gentleman down-stairs who +wishes to see you. He says he will wait until you can +receive him. I thought you would like to know."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman at this hour of the morning?" Louise +yawned. "How absurd! Anyhow, you ought to know +better than to wake me up before the proper time."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry, <i>madame</i>," Aline replied. "I +hesitated for some time, but I thought you would like +to know that the gentleman was here. It is Mr. Stephen +Strangewey—Mr. John's brother."</p> + +<p>Louise clasped her knees with her fingers and sat +thinking. She was wide awake now.</p> + +<p>"He has been here some time already, <i>madame</i>," +Aline continued. "I did not wish to disturb you, but +I thought perhaps it was better for you to know that he +was here."</p> + +<p>"Quite right, Aline," Louise decided. "Go down and +tell him that I will see him in half an hour, and get my +bath ready at once."</p> + +<p>Louise dressed herself simply but carefully. She +could conceive of but one reason for Stephen's presence +in her house, and it rather amused her. It was, of +course, no friendly visit. He had come either to +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 242]</span> +threaten or to cajole. Yet what could he do? What +had she to fear? She went over the interview in her +mind, imagining him crushed and subdued by her superior +subtlety and finesse.</p> + +<p>With a little smile of coming triumph upon her lips +she descended the stairs and swept into her pleasantly +warmed and perfumed little drawing-room. She even +held out her hand cordially to the dark, grim figure +whose outline against the dainty white wall seemed so +inappropriate.</p> + +<p>"This is very nice of you indeed, Mr. Strangewey," +she began. "I had no idea that you had followed your +brother's example and come to town."</p> + +<p>She told herself once more that her slight instinct +of uneasiness had been absurd. Stephen's bow, although +a little formal and austere, was still an acknowledgment +of her welcome. The shadows of the room, +perhaps, had prevented him from seeing her outstretched +hand.</p> + +<p>"Mine is a very short visit, Miss Maurel," he said. +"I had no other reason for coming but to see John and +to pay this call upon you."</p> + +<p>"I am greatly flattered," she told him. "You must +please sit down and make yourself comfortable while +we talk. See, this is my favorite place," she added, +dropping into a corner of her lounge. "Will you sit +beside me? Or, if you prefer, draw up that chair."</p> + +<p>"My preference," he replied, "is to remain standing."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows. Her tone altered.</p> + +<p>"It must be as you wish, of course," she continued; +"only I have such pleasant recollections of your hospitality +at Peak Hall that I should like, if there was +any possible way in which I could return it—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 243]</span> +"Madam," he interrupted, "you must admit that the +hospitality of Peak Hall was not willingly offered to +you. Save for the force of circumstances, you would +never have crossed our threshold."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. She was adapting her +tone and manner to the belligerency of his attitude.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You want to know why I have found my way to +London?" he went on. "I came to find out a little +more about you."</p> + +<p>"About me?"</p> + +<p>"To discover if there was anything about you," he +proceeded deliberately, "concerning which report had +lied. I do not place my faith in newspapers and +gossip. There was always a chance that you might +have been an honest woman. That is why I came +to London, and why I went to see your play last +night."</p> + +<p>She was speechless. It was as if he were speaking to +her in some foreign tongue.</p> + +<p>"I have struggled," he continued, "to adopt a charitable +view of your profession. I know that the world +changes quickly, while we, who prefer to remain outside +its orbit, of necessity lose touch with its new ideas +and new fashions. So I said to myself that there +should be no mistake. For that reason I sat in a theater +last night almost for the first time in my life. I +saw you act."</p> + +<p>"Well?" she asked almost defiantly.</p> + +<p>He looked down at her. All splendid self-assurance +seemed ebbing away. She felt a sudden depression of +spirit, a sudden strange sense of insignificance.</p> + +<p>"I have come," he said, "if I can, to buy my brother's +freedom."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 244]</span> +"To buy your brother's freedom?" she repeated, in +a dazed tone.</p> + +<p>"My brother is infatuated with you," Stephen declared. +"I wish to save him."</p> + +<p>Her woman's courage began to assert itself. She +raised her eyes to his.</p> + +<p>"Exactly what do you mean?" she asked calmly. +"In what way is any man to be saved from me? If +your brother should care for me, and I, by any chance, +should happen to care for him, in what respect would +that be a state from which he would require salvation?"</p> + +<p>"You make my task more difficult," he observed deliberately. +"Does it amuse you to practise your profession +before one so ignorant and so unappreciative as +myself? If my brother should ever marry, it is my +firm intention that he shall marry an honest woman."</p> + +<p>Louise sat quite still for a moment. A flash of lightning +had glittered before her eyes, and in her ears +was the crash of thunder. Her face was suddenly +strained. She saw nothing but the stern, forbidding +expression of the man who looked down at her.</p> + +<p>"You dare to say this to me, here in my own +house?"</p> + +<p>"Dare? Why not? Don't people tell you the +truth here in London, then?"</p> + +<p>She rose a little unsteadily to her feet, motioning him +toward the door, and moving toward the bell. Suddenly +she sank back into her former place, breathless +and helpless.</p> + +<p>"Why do you waste your breath?" he asked +calmly. "We are alone here, and I—we know the +truth!"</p> + +<p>She sat quite still, shivering a little.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 245]</span> +"Do we? Tell me, then, because I am curious—tell +me why you are so sure of what you say?"</p> + +<p>"The world has it," he replied, "that you are the +mistress of the Prince of Seyre. I came to London to +satisfy myself as to the truth of that report. Do you +believe that any man living, among that audience last +night, could watch the play and know that you passed, +night after night, into your bed-chamber to meet your +lover with that look upon your face—you are a clever +actress, madam—and believe that you were a woman +who was living an honest life?"</p> + +<p>"That seems impossible to you?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Utterly impossible!"</p> + +<p>"And to John?"</p> + +<p>"I am speaking for myself and not for my brother," +Stephen replied. "Men like him, who are assailed by +a certain madness, are best left alone with it. That is +why I came to you to bargain, if I could. Is there +anything that you lack—anything which your own +success and your lover, or lovers, have failed to provide +for you?"</p> + +<p>It was useless to try to rise; she was powerless in all +her limbs. Side by side with the anger and horror that +his words aroused was a sense of something almost grotesque, +something which seemed to force an unnatural +laugh from her lips.</p> + +<p>"So you want to buy me off?"</p> + +<p>"I should be glad to believe that it was within my +power to do so. I have not John's great fortune, but I +have money, the accumulated savings of a lifetime, for +which I have no better purpose. There is one more +thing, too, to be said."</p> + +<p>"Another charge?"</p> + +<p>"Not that," he told her; "only it is better for you +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 246]</span> +to understand that if you turn me from your house +this morning, I shall still feel the necessity of saving +my brother from you."</p> + +<p>"Saving him from me?" she exclaimed, rising suddenly +and throwing out her arms. "Do you know what +you are talking about? Do you know that if I consented +to think of your brother as my husband, there +is not a man in London who would not envy him? Look +at me! I am beautiful, am I not? I am a great artist. +I am Louise Maurel, and I have made myself famous by +my own work and my own genius. What has your +brother done in life to render him worthy of the sacrifice +I should make if I chose to give him my hand? You +had better go back to Cumberland, Mr. Strangewey. +You do not see life as we see it up here!"</p> + +<p>"And what about John?" he asked, without moving. +"You tempted him away. Was it from wantonness, or +do you love him?"</p> + +<p>"Love him?" she laughed. "I hate you both! +You are boors—you are ignorant people. I hate the +moment I ever saw either of you. Take John back +with you. Take him out of my life. There is no +place there for him!"</p> + +<p>Stephen picked up his hat from the sofa where it lay. +Louise remained perfectly still, her breath coming +quickly, her eyes lit with passion.</p> + +<p>"Madam," he said, "I am sorry to have distressed +you, but the truth sometimes hurts the most callous of +us. You have heard the truth from me. I will take +John back to Cumberland with me, if he will come. If +he will not—"</p> + +<p>"Take him with you!" she broke in fiercely. "He +will do as I bid him—do you hear? If I lift my little +finger, he will stay. It will be I who decide, I—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 247]</span> +"But you will not lift your little finger," he interrupted +grimly.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I, just to punish you?" she demanded. +"There are scores of men who fancy themselves +in love with me. If I choose, I can keep them all +their lives hanging to the hem of my skirt, praying for +a word, a touch. I can make them furious one day and +penitent the next—wretched always, perhaps, but I +can keep them there. Why should I not treat your +brother in the same way?"</p> + +<p>He seemed suddenly to dilate. She was overcome +with a sense of some latent power in the man, some commanding +influence.</p> + +<p>"Because," he declared, "I am the guardian of my +brother's happiness. Whoever trifles with it shall in +the future reckon with me!"</p> + +<p>His eyes were fixed upon her soft, white throat. His +long, lean fingers seemed suddenly to be drawing near +to her. She watched him, fascinated. She was trying +to scream. Even after he had turned away and left +her, after she had heard his measured tramp descending +the stairs, her fingers flew to her throat. She held +herself tightly, standing there with beating heart and +throbbing pulses. It was not until the front door had +closed that she had the strength to move, to throw herself +face downward upon the couch.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 248]</span></p> + +<h2>XXVIII</h2> + +<p>Louise ate a very small luncheon, but—an unusual +thing for her—she drank two glasses of wine. Just +as she had finished, Sophy came in, with ink-stained fingers +and a serious expression.</p> + +<p>"You silly child!" Louise exclaimed. "No one told +me you were here. Have you had any lunch?"</p> + +<p>"Long ago," Sophy replied. "I have been finishing +your accounts."</p> + +<p>Louise made a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"Tell me the worst," she begged.</p> + +<p>"You are overdrawn at your bank, your bills are +heavier than ever this month, and there are five or six +special accounts—one for some electric fittings, another +for the hire of a motor-car—which ought to be +paid."</p> + +<p>"People are always wanting money!" Louise declared +pettishly.</p> + +<p>"People always will want money," Sophy retorted, +"so long as you earn three thousand a year and spend +four or five thousand!"</p> + +<p>Louise selected a cigarette and lit it.</p> + +<p>"Instead of scolding me, child," she yawned, "suppose +you suggest something?"</p> + +<p>"What is there to suggest?" Sophy replied. "Your +bank has written you to put your overdraft straight at +once—it comes to about two hundred and seventy +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 249]</span> +pounds. There are bills, for which the people are asking +for payment, and which come to about as much +again. You've nothing but your hundred pounds a +week, and you're spending half of that, as it is."</p> + +<p>Louise flicked the ash from her cigarette.</p> + +<p>"And even you, my child, don't know the worst," she +remarked. "There's Fenillon, my dressmaker. She +doesn't send me a bill at all, but I owe her nearly six +hundred pounds. I have to wear a shockingly unbecoming +gown in the second act, as it is, just because +she's getting disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've tried to set things straight," Sophy declared. +"You'll have either to marry or to borrow +some money. You can't go on much longer!"</p> + +<p>Louise was looking up at the ceiling. She sighed.</p> + +<p>"It would be nice," she said, "to have some one to +pay one's bills and look after one, and see that one +wasn't too extravagant."</p> + +<p>"Well, you need some one badly," Sophy asserted. +"I suppose you mean to make up your mind to it some +day."</p> + +<p>"I wonder!" Louise murmured. "Did you know +that that terrible man from the hills—John Strangewey's +brother—has been here this morning? He +frightened me almost to death."</p> + +<p>"What did he want?" Sophy asked curiously.</p> + +<p>"He was a trifle vague," Louise remarked. "I +gathered that if I don't send John back to Cumberland, +he's going to strangle me."</p> + +<p>Sophy leaned across the table.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to send him back?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am in an uncertain frame of mind," Louise confessed. +"I really can't decide about anything."</p> + +<p>Sophy poured herself out some coffee.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 250]</span> +"I think," she said, "that you'll have to decide about +John before long."</p> + +<p>"About John, indeed!" Louise exclaimed lightly. +"Who gave you the right to call him by his Christian +name?"</p> + +<p>Sophy colored.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I have just dropped into it," she remarked. +"Tell me what you have decided to do, Louise?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I do anything at all?"</p> + +<p>"You know very well," Sophy insisted, "that you +have encouraged John Strangewey shamefully. You +have persuaded him to live up here, to make new friends, +and to start an entirely new mode of life, just in the +hope that some day you will marry him."</p> + +<p>"Have I?" Louise asked. "Then I suppose I must +keep my word—some day!"</p> + +<p>Sophy drew her chair a little nearer to her friend's. +She passed her arm around Louise's waist; their heads +almost touched.</p> + +<p>"Dear Louise," she whispered, "please tell me!"</p> + +<p>Louise was silent. Her hesitation became momentous. +Her eyes seemed to be looking through the walls. +Sophy watched her breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"You ought to make up your mind," she went on. +"You see, it isn't as if there was no one else. There is +the prince."</p> + +<p>Sophy felt the fingers that she was clasping grow a +little colder.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Louise repeated, "there is the prince. Sophy, +I feel that I am drifting into an impossible position. +Every day is bringing me nearer to it."</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you this, Louise," Sophy said firmly. +"John is getting to know a great many people, and you +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 251]</span> +know how men talk at the clubs. Aren't you sometimes +afraid that he will hear things and misunderstand?"</p> + +<p>"I am expecting it every day," Louise admitted.</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you end it?"</p> + +<p>"Which way?"</p> + +<p>There was a silence between the two women. The +muffled street noises from outside became the background +to a stillness which grew every moment more +oppressive. Louise returned to her former attitude. +She looked steadfastly before her, her face supported +by her hands.</p> + +<p>Sophy grew paler and paler as the minutes passed. +There was something strange and almost beautiful in +Louise's face, something which had come to her lately, +and which shone from her eyes only at rare intervals.</p> + +<p>"You care for him, I believe!" Sophy cried at last. +"You care for him!"</p> + +<p>Louise did not move.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"You, Louise!" Sophy gasped. "You, the great +artist! Why, think of the men who have tried to make +you care—poets, musicians—so many of them, so +many famous men! It can't be true. John Strangewey +is so far apart. He doesn't belong to your +world."</p> + +<p>Louise leaned over and stroked her little friend's +hair.</p> + +<p>"Child," she said, "that's all very true. I have had +it ringing in my brain for longer than you would believe. +But now tell me something. No, look at me—don't +be ashamed. Are you in love with John yourself?"</p> + +<p>Sophy never hesitated.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 252]</span> +"From the very first moment I saw him," she confessed. +"Don't let that bother you, dear. He would +never look at me except as a little pal. I never expected +anything from him—anything serious, of +course—never dared to hope for it. I have thrown +myself at his head in the most shameless manner. It is +all no good. I never met any one like him before. +Louise, do you know that he is good—really good?"</p> + +<p>"I believe he is," Louise murmured. "That is what +makes it so wonderful."</p> + +<p>"It's all incomprehensible," Sophy declared wearily.</p> + +<p>There was a ring at the front door. Louise, from +her place, could see the long, gray bonnet of John's +car. Almost before she could speak, he was announced.</p> + +<p>"It's an atrocious time to come, I know—" he began +apologetically.</p> + +<p>"You're in time for some coffee, anyhow," Sophy +told him cheerfully. "And I know Louise is glad to +see you, because if you hadn't come I was going to make +her go through some accounts."</p> + +<p>"You know I am always glad to see you," Louise +murmured, pointing to a chair. "Sophy and I have +been having a most interesting discussion, but we have +come to a <i>cul-de-sac</i>."</p> + +<p>"I really came," John explained, "to ask if you +cared to come and see a collection of pictures. There's +an Italian—a Futurist, of course—just unpacked his +little lot and set them up over a curiosity-shop in Clifford +Street. He is sending out cards for next week, +but I could take you to-day—that is, if you would +care about it. We can go somewhere for some tea afterward."</p> + +<p>Louise made a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"What bad luck!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 253]</span> +She stopped short. She felt that by her hesitation +she had, in a sense, committed herself.</p> + +<p>"I have promised to go and have tea with the prince +at Seyre House," she said. "It is an engagement we +made last week."</p> + +<p>John set down his empty coffee-cup with a clatter. +An inexplicable but dominating fury seemed to have +suddenly assailed him. He took out a cigarette and +tried to light it. Sophy, after watching him for a moment +in astonishment, slipped out of the room. Louise +came over to his side.</p> + +<p>"Are you really so much disappointed?" she asked. +"I am so sorry. If I had known that you were coming +for me, I would have kept myself free."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that exactly," John answered. "It's something +I can't altogether explain. If you don't mind, I +think I will be going. There is something I must put +right."</p> + +<p>He left without another word. She watched him +step into his new motor-car and drive away a little recklessly, +considering the crowded state of the streets. He +drew up, a few minutes later, outside the club in Pall +Mall, where, as it chanced, he had lunched that day with +the Prince of Seyre.</p> + +<p>He found the prince still sitting in the smoking room, +reading a review, over the top of which he glanced up as +John approached, and nodded nonchalantly.</p> + +<p>"Back again?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"I came back to have a word with you, prince."</p> + +<p>The prince laid down the review, keeping his finger in +the place.</p> + +<p>"Delighted!"</p> + +<p>"Not long ago," John went on, "in this room, some +one—I think it was Major Charters—asked you what +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 254]</span> +you were doing this afternoon. You replied that you +were engaged. There were several others present, and +they began to chaff you. Perhaps I joined in—I +don't remember. I think that it was Major Charters +who asked you, to use his own words, whether your appointment +was with a lady. You replied in the affirmative. +There was a little volley of chaff. You listened +without contradiction to many references concerning +the nature of your afternoon's amusement."</p> + +<p>The prince nodded slightly. His face remained quite +expressionless.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact," John concluded, "I have discovered +by the purest accident that Miss Maurel is to +be your guest this afternoon at Seyre House."</p> + +<p>The prince inclined his head gently. He remained +monosyllabic.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>John frowned heavily.</p> + +<p>"Can't you see," he went on bluntly, "that if any +one of those men who were present, and heard what was +said about your guest, found out afterward that it was +Miss Maurel who came to see you—well, I need not go +on, need I? I am sure you understand. The things +which were hinted at could not possibly apply to her. +Would you mind sending a note to Miss Maurel and +asking her to have tea with you some other afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"And why the deuce should I do that?" the prince +asked, a trifle paler, but entirely self-possessed.</p> + +<p>"To oblige me," John replied.</p> + +<p>The prince wiped his eye-glass carefully upon his +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Strangewey, you are a very amiable young +man," he said equably, "to whom I have tried to show +some kindness for Miss Maurel's sake. I really do not +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 255]</span> +see, however—pardon my putting it plainly—what +business this is of yours."</p> + +<p>"It is my business," John declared, "because I have +asked Miss Maurel to be my wife, and because I am hoping +that some day, before very long, she will consent."</p> + +<p>The prince sat quite still in his chair, his eyes fixed +upon a certain spot in the carpet. He had not even the +appearance of being engaged in thought. He seemed +only steeped in a sort of passivity. Finally, with a +sigh, he rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"My young friend," he decided, "your statement alters +the situation. I did not credit you with matrimonial +intentions. I must see what can be done!"</p> + +<p>His lips had relaxed ever so slightly—so slightly +that they showed only a glimpse of his teeth in one +straight, hard line. He looked at John mildly, and his +words seemed destitute of all offense; yet John felt that +the lightnings were playing around them.</p> + +<p>"I shall write a note to Miss Maurel," the prince +promised, as he made his way toward the writing-table, +"and ask her to visit me upon some other afternoon."</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 256]</span></p> + +<h2>XXIX</h2> + +<p>Back again to his rooms, and, later on, once more +to Louise's little house in Kensington; a few minutes' +masterful pleading, and then success. Louise wrapped +herself up and descended to the street by his side.</p> + +<p>For an hour or more John drove steadily westward, +scarcely speaking more than a chance word. It was +twilight when he brought the car to a standstill. Louise +raised her veil and looked up.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she asked inquiringly.</p> + +<p>He pushed back the throttle on his steering-wheel and +stopped the engine. Then he turned toward her.</p> + +<p>"I have something to say to you," he said. "I have +brought you here that I may say it in my own way +and in my own atmosphere."</p> + +<p>She responded instantly to his mood, although she did +not yet grasp the full significance of the situation. She +leaned forward in the car, and her eyes were lighted +with interest. Into their faces a slight, drizzling rain +was carried at intervals by a gusty, north wind. The +sky was murky gray, except for one black mass of cloud +that seemed bending almost over their heads.</p> + +<p>Down at their feet—they had made a circuit and +were facing London again—began the long lines of +feeble lights which lit the great avenues stretching onward +to the city, the lights of suburban thoroughfares, +of local railways, and here and there a more brilliant +illumination of some picture palace or place of amusement. +Farther away still, the vast glow from the heart +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 257]</span> +of the city was beginning to flare against the murky +sky—here red and threatening, as if from some great +conflagration; in other places yellow, with a sicklier +light of fog-strangled brilliance.</p> + +<p>"This is like you!" Louise murmured. "You had +to bring me out to a hilltop, on the dreariest hour of a +wet March afternoon, to tell me—what?"</p> + +<p>"First of all," John began, "I will answer a question +which you have asked me three times since we started +out this afternoon. You wanted to know how I found +out that you were not going to tea with the prince. +Well, here is the truth. I asked the prince to change +the day of your visit to him."</p> + +<p>Her fine, silky eyebrows came a little closer together.</p> + +<p>"You asked him that?" she repeated.</p> + +<p>John nodded.</p> + +<p>"And he consented?"</p> + +<p>"I will explain," John continued. "It was a most +unfortunate circumstance, but in the club, after lunch, +the subject of spending the afternoon came up. The +prince spoke of an engagement. He was tied at home, +he said, from four to six. Some of the men began to +chaff him, and suggested that he was entertaining some +lady friend, his latest favorite—well, I dare say you +can imagine the rest," John broke off. "The prince, +thoughtlessly, I am sure, and probably to get rid of +them, pleaded guilty. Then I came down to see you, +and from what you said I discovered that it was you +who were to be his visitor."</p> + +<p>Her fingers played nervously for a moment with the +edge of the rug. She drew it higher up.</p> + +<p>"Well, when I left your house the first time this afternoon, +I went straight back to the prince. I pointed +out to him that after what had been said, as it might +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 258]</span> +become known that you were his guest of to-day, it +would be better for him to postpone your visit. He +agreed to do so."</p> + +<p>"Was that all that passed between you?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite," John replied. "He asked me what +concern it was of mine, and I told him exactly what my +concern was. I told him I hoped that some day you +would be my wife."</p> + +<p>She sat quite still, looking down upon the flaring +lights. She was filled with a restless desire to escape, +to start the motor herself and rush through the wet air +into London and safety. And side by side with that +desire she knew that there was nothing in the world she +wanted so much as to stay just where she was, and to +hear just the words she was going to hear.</p> + +<p>"So much for that!" John proceeded. "And now, +please listen. I have brought you out here because +under these conditions I feel more master of myself and +my thoughts, and of the things I want to say to you. +Something takes me by the throat in your little drawing-room, +with its shaded lights, its perfume of flowers, +and its atmosphere of perfection. You sit enthroned +there like the queen of a world I know nothing of, and +all the time letters and flowers and flattering invitations +are showered upon you from the greatest men in London. +The atmosphere there stifles me, Louise. Out +here you are a woman and I a man, and those other +things fall away. I have tried my best to come a little +way into sympathy with your life. I want you now to +make up your mind to come down a little way into +mine!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"We are still too far apart," she murmured. +"Can't you understand that yourself?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 259]</span> +"I have been a pupil for many months," he answered, +turning toward her, with one arm at the back of her +cushions and the fingers of the other hand suddenly +seeking hers. "Can't you understand, if you do care a +little, if you have just a little flame of love in your heart +for me, that many of these other things which keep us +apart are like the lime-light which flashes out to give +artificial light in an honest darkness? Don't you believe, +at the bottom of your heart, that you can be happier +if you will climb with me to the place where we +first met, even where the clouds lean over my own hills? +You thought me very narrow then. Perhaps I am. +But I think you are beginning to understand, dear, that +that life is only a type. We can wander about where +you will. My hills are only the emblems of the things +that are dear to me. There are many countries I want +to visit. I don't want to cramp your life. You can't +really be afraid of that, because it is the most widening +thing in the world that I have to give you—my love, +the love of my heart and my soul!"</p> + +<p>She felt the sudden snapping of every nerve in her +body, the passing away of all sense of will or resistance. +She was conscious only of the little movement toward +him, the involuntary yielding of herself. She lay back +in his arms, and the kisses which closed her eyes and lips +seemed to be working some strange miracle.</p> + +<p>She was in some great empty space, breathing wonderful +things. She was on the hilltops, and from the +heights she looked down at herself as she had been—a +poor little white-faced puppet, strutting about an +overheated stage, in a fetid atmosphere of adulation, +with a brain artificially stimulated, and a heart growing +cold with selfishness. She pitied herself as she had been. +Then she opened her eyes with a start of joy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 260]</span> +"How wonderful it all is!" she murmured. "You +brought me here to tell me this?"</p> + +<p>"And to hear something!" he insisted.</p> + +<p>"I have tried not to, John," she confessed, amazed +at the tremble of her sweet, low voice. Her words +seemed like the confession of a weeping child. "I cannot +help it. I do love you! I have tried not to so +hard, but now—now I shall not try any more!"</p> + +<p>They drove quietly down the long hill and through +the dripping streets. Not another word passed between +them till they drew up outside her door. She felt +a new timidity as he handed her out, an immense gratitude +for his firm tone and intuitive tact.</p> + +<p>"No, I won't come in, thanks," he declared. "You +have so little time to rest and get ready for the theater."</p> + +<p>"You will be there to-night?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He laughed as if there were humor in the suggestion +of his absence.</p> + +<p>"Of course!"</p> + +<p>He slipped in his clutch and drove off through the +rain-gleaming streets with the smile and air of a conqueror. +Louise passed into her little house to find a +visitor waiting for her there.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 261]</span></p> + +<h2>XXX</h2> + +<p>Eugène, Prince of Seyre, had spent the early part +of that afternoon in a manner wholly strange to him. +In pursuance of an order given to his majordomo immediately +on his return from the club after lunch, the +great reception rooms of Seyre House, the picture-gallery +and the ballroom, were prepared as if for a reception. +Dust-sheets were swept aside, masterpieces of +painting and sculpture were uncovered, the soft brilliance +of concealed electric lights lit up many dark corners.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, the prince, with his hands +clasped behind him, with expressionless face and slow, +thoughtful movements, passed from room to room of +the treasure-house which had come to him through +a long line of distinguished and famous men. Here +and there he paused to handle with the fingers of a connoisseur +some excellent piece of bronze statuary, some +miracle of Sèvres china, some treasure of carved ivory, +yellow with age. And more than once he stood still +for several minutes in rapt contemplation of one of +the great masterpieces with which the walls were hung.</p> + +<p>As he passed, a solitary figure, from one to another +of that long chain of lofty, palatial rooms, his stature +seemed more than ever insignificant; yet he walked always +with the dignity of the master. Notwithstanding +the slight excesses of his immaculate morning dress, +his pallid features, his insignificant build, he appeared +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 262]</span> +to belong to these things, to dominate them, to understand +them. Every beautiful object upon which he +looked brought back to his memory some reminiscence +of his years of travel. He knew the history of the +chinas and the bronzes, the statuary and the lacquer-work, +the friezes, and the great pictures which adorned +his house. Perhaps, he thought, as he paused to study +some Italian tapestry of his own discovery, he had spent +too many years in the contemplative life.</p> + +<p>There had been many careers open to him in his +younger days. France was still his own country, and +he might easily have joined the long line of soldiers +whose portraits filled one side of the picture-gallery. +Once he had had ambitions, either to wield the sword +or to take his place in the world of diplomacy. It was +his political inheritance which had deadened them, the +awful debt of blood that he still owed to the enemies +of his race. He had found the spirit of patriotism +dead within him, and in that day he had turned his back +upon his country. Since then he had carried his great +name through the pleasure places of the world, always +upholding its dignity, perhaps, but never adding to its +luster.</p> + +<p>He was forty-one years old that day, and the few +words which John had spoken to him barely an hour +ago had made him realize that there was only one thing +in life that he desired. The sight of his treasures +merely soothed his vanity. It left empty and unsatisfied +his fuller and deeper desire of living. He told +himself that his time had come. Others of his race +had paid a great price for the things they had coveted +in life. He, too, must follow their example.</p> + +<p>He was in Louise's drawing-room when she returned—Louise, +with hair and cheeks a little damp, but with +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 263]</span> +a wonderful light in her eyes and with footsteps that +seemed to fall upon air.</p> + +<p>"Some tea and a bath this moment, Aline!" she +called out, as she ran lightly up the stairs. "Never +mind about dinner, I am so late. I will have some toast. +Be quick!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Madame</i>—" Aline began.</p> + +<p>"Don't bother me about anything now," Louise interrupted. +"I will throw my things off while you get +the bath ready."</p> + +<p>She stepped into her little room, throwing off her +cloak as she entered. Then she stopped short, almost +upon the threshold. The prince had risen to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Eugène!"</p> + +<p>He came toward her. Even as he stooped to kiss her +fingers, his eyes seemed to take in her disheveled condition, +the little patches of color in her cheeks, the radiant +happiness which shone in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I am not an unwelcome intruder, I hope," he said. +"But how wet you are!"</p> + +<p>The fingers which he released fell nervelessly to her +side. She stood looking at him as if confronted with +a sudden nightmare. It was as if this new-found life +were being slowly drained from her veins.</p> + +<p>"You are overtired," he murmured, leading her with +solicitude toward an easy chair. "One would imagine, +from your appearance, that I was the bearer of some +terrible tidings. Let me assure you that it is not so."</p> + +<p>He spoke with his usual deliberation, but she seemed +powerless to recover herself. She was still dazed and +white. She sank into the chair and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, I trust," he went on, "has happened to +disturb you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," she declared hastily. "I am +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 264]</span> +tired. I ran up-stairs perhaps a little too quickly. +Aline had not told me that there was any one +here."</p> + +<p>"I had a fancy to see you this afternoon," the prince +explained, "and, finding you out, I took the liberty of +waiting. If you would rather I went away and came +for you later, please do not hesitate to say so."</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I do not know +why I should have been so silly. Aline, take my coat +and veil," she directed, turning to the maid, who was +lingering at the other end of the room. "I am not +wet. Serve some tea in here. I will have my bath +later, when I change to go to the theater."</p> + +<p>She spoke bravely, but fear was in her heart. She +tried to tell herself that this visit was a coincidence, +that it meant nothing, but all the time she knew otherwise.</p> + +<p>The door closed behind Aline, and they were alone. +The prince, as if anxious to give her time to recover +herself, walked to the window and stood for some moments +looking out. When he turned around, Louise +had at least nerved herself to meet what she felt was +imminent.</p> + +<p>The prince approached her deliberately. She knew +what he was going to say.</p> + +<p>"Louise," he began, drawing a chair to her side, "I +have found myself thinking a great deal about you during +the last few weeks."</p> + +<p>She did not interrupt him. She simply waited and +watched.</p> + +<p>"I have come to a certain determination," he proceeded; +"one which, if you will grace it with your approval, +will give me great happiness. I ask you to forget +certain things which have passed between us. I +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 265]</span> +have come to you to-day to beg you to do me the honor +of becoming my wife."</p> + +<p>She turned her head very slowly until she was looking +him full in the face. Her lips were a little parted, her +eyes a little strained. The prince was leaning toward +her in a conventional attitude; his words had been +spoken simply and in his usual conversational manner. +There was something about him, however, profoundly +convincing.</p> + +<p>"Your wife!" Louise repeated.</p> + +<p>"If you will do me that great honor."</p> + +<p>It seemed at first as if her nerves were strained to +the breaking-point. The situation was one with which +her brain seemed unable to grapple. She set her teeth +tightly. Then she had a sudden interlude of wonderful +clear-sightedness. She was almost cool.</p> + +<p>"You must forgive my surprise, Eugène," she +begged. "We have known each other now for some +twelve years, have we not?—and I believe that this is +the first time you have ever hinted at anything of the +sort!"</p> + +<p>"One gathers wisdom, perhaps, with the years," he +replied. "I am forty-one years old to-day. I have +spent the early hours of this afternoon in reflection, +and behold the result!"</p> + +<p>"You have spoken to me before," she said slowly, +"of different things. You have offered me a great deal +in life, but never your name. I do not understand this +sudden change!"</p> + +<p>"Louise," he declared, "if I do not tell you the truth +now, you will probably guess it. Besides, this is the +one time in their lives when a man and a woman should +speak nothing but the truth. It is for fear of losing +you—that is why."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 266]</span> +Her self-control suddenly gave way. She threw herself +back in her chair. She began to laugh and stopped +abruptly, the tears streaming from her eyes. The +prince leaned forward. He took her hands in his, but +she drew them away.</p> + +<p>"You are too late, Eugène!" she said. "I almost +loved you. I was almost yours to do whatever you +liked with. But somehow, somewhere, notwithstanding +all your worldly knowledge and mine, we missed it. We +do not know the truth about life, you and I—at least +you do not, and I did not."</p> + +<p>He rose very slowly to his feet. There was no visible +change in his face save a slight whitening of the +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"And the sequel to this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I have promised to marry John Strangewey," she +told him.</p> + +<p>"That," he replied, "is impossible! I have a prior +claim."</p> + +<p>The light of battle flamed suddenly in her eyes. Her +nervousness had gone. She was a strong woman, face +to face with him now, taller than he, seeming, indeed, +to tower over him in the splendor of her anger. She +was like a lioness threatened with the loss of the one +dear thing.</p> + +<p>"Assert it, then!" she cried defiantly. "Do what +you will. Go to him this minute, if you have courage +enough, if it seems to you well. Claim, indeed! Right! +I have the one right every woman in the world possesses—to +give herself, body and soul, to the man she loves! +That is the only claim and the only right I recognize, +and I am giving myself to him, when he wants me, +forever!"</p> + +<p>She stopped suddenly. Neither of them had heard +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 267]</span> +a discreet knock at the door. Aline had entered with +the tea. There was a moment of silence.</p> + +<p>"Put it down here by my side, Aline," her mistress +ordered, "and show the Prince of Seyre out."</p> + +<p>Aline held the door open. For a single moment the +prince hesitated. Then he picked up his hat and bowed.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he said, "this may not be the last +word!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 268]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXI</h2> + +<p>Jennings stood with a decanter in his hand, looking +resentfully at his master's untasted wine. He shook +his head ponderously. Not only was the wine untouched, +but the <i>Cumberland Times</i> lay unopened upon +the table. Grim and severe in his high-backed chair, +Stephen Strangewey sat with his eyes fixed upon the +curtained window.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing wrong with the wine, I hope, sir?" +the man asked. "It's not corked or anything, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing is the matter with it," Stephen answered. +"Bring me my pipe."</p> + +<p>Jennings shook his head firmly.</p> + +<p>"There's no call for you, sir," he declared, "to drop +out of your old habits. You shall have your pipe when +you've drunk that glass of port, and not before. Bless +me! There's the paper by your side, all unread, and +full of news, for I've glanced it through myself. Corn +was higher yesterday at Market Ketton, and there's +talk of a bad shortage of fodder in some parts."</p> + +<p>Stephen raised his glass to his lips and drained its +contents.</p> + +<p>"Now bring me my pipe, Jennings," he ordered.</p> + +<p>The old man was still disposed to grumble.</p> + +<p>"Drinking wine like that as if it were some public-house +stuff!" he muttered, as he crossed the room, +toward the sideboard. "It's more a night, this, to my +way of thinking, for drinking a second glass of wine +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 269]</span> +than for shilly-shallying with the first. There's the +wind coming across Townley Moor and down the Fells +strong enough to blow the rocks out of the ground. It +'minds me of the time Mr. John was out with the Territorials, +and they tried the moor for their big guns."</p> + +<p>The rain lashed the window-panes, and the wind +whistled past the front of the house. Stephen sat quite +still, as if listening—it may have been to the storm.</p> + +<p>"Well, here's your pipe, sir," Jennings continued, +laying it by his master's side, "and your tobacco and +the matches. If you'd smoke less and drink a glass +or two more of the right stuff, it would be more to my +liking."</p> + +<p>Stephen filled his pipe with firm fingers. Then he +laid it down, unlit, by his side.</p> + +<p>"Bring me back the port, Jennings," he ordered, +"and a glass for yourself."</p> + +<p>Jennings obeyed promptly. Stephen filled both +glasses, and the two men looked at each other as they +held them out.</p> + +<p>"Here's confusion to all women!" Stephen said, as +he raised his to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Amen, sir!" Jennings muttered.</p> + +<p>They set down the two empty glasses. Stephen lit +his pipe. He sat smoking stolidly, blowing out great +clouds of smoke. Jennings retreated, coughing resentfully.</p> + +<p>"Spoils the taste of good wine, that tobacco do," +he snapped. "Good port like that should be left to lie +upon the palate, so to speak. Bless me, what's that?"</p> + +<p>Above the roar of the wind came another and unmistakable +sound. The front door had been opened +and shut. There were steps upon the stone floor of +the hall—firm, familiar steps.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 270]</span> +Jennings, with his mouth open, stood staring at the +door. Stephen slowly turned his head. The hand +which held his pipe was as firm as a rock, but there was +a queer little gleam of expectation in his eyes. Then +the door was thrown open and John entered. The rain +was dripping from his clothes. He was breathless from +his struggle with the elements.</p> + +<p>The two other men looked at him fixedly. They both +realized the same thing at the same moment—there +was no trace of the returned prodigal in John's countenance, +or in his buoyant expression. The ten-mile +ride seemed to have brought back all his color.</p> + +<p>"Master John!" Jennings faltered.</p> + +<p>Stephen said nothing. John crossed the room and +gripped his brother's hand.</p> + +<p>"Wet through to the skin, and starving!" he declared. +"I thought I'd find something at Ketton, but +it was all I could do to get Gibson, at the George, to +lend me a horse. Give me a glass of wine, Jennings. +I'll change my clothes—I expect you've kept them +aired."</p> + +<p>Not a word of explanation concerning his sudden +return, nor did either of the two ask any questions. +They set the bell clanging in the stable-yard and found +shelter for the borrowed horse. Presently, in dry +clothes, John sat down to a plentiful meal. His brother +watched him with a grim smile.</p> + +<p>"You haven't forgotten how to eat in London, +John," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"If I had, a ten-mile ride on a night like this would +help me to remember! How's the land doing?"</p> + +<p>"Things are backward. The snow lay late, and +we've had drying winds."</p> + +<p>"And the stock?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 271]</span> +"Moderate. We are short of heifers. But you +didn't come back from London to ask about the farm."</p> + +<p>John pushed back his plate and drew his chair opposite +to his brother's.</p> + +<p>"I did not," he assented. "I came back to tell you +my news."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking that might be it," Stephen muttered.</p> + +<p>John crossed the room, found his pipe in a drawer, +filled it with tobacco, and lit it.</p> + +<p>"Old man," he said, as he returned to his place, +"it's all very well for you and old Jennings to put your +heads together every night and drink confusion to all +women; but you know very well that if there are to be +any more Strangeweys at Peak Hall, either you or I +must marry!"</p> + +<p>Stephen moved uneasily in his chair.</p> + +<p>"If you're going to marry that woman—" he began.</p> + +<p>"I am going to marry Louise Maurel," John interrupted +firmly. "Stephen, listen to me for a moment +before you say another word, please. It is all settled. +She has promised to be my wife. I don't forget what +we've been to each other. I don't forget the old name +and the old tradition; but I have been fortunate enough +to meet a woman whom I love, and I am going to marry +her. Don't speak hurriedly, Stephen! Think whatever +you will, but keep it to yourself. Some day I +shall expect you to give me your hand and tell me you +are glad."</p> + +<p>Stephen knocked the ashes deliberately from his pipe.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you this much now," he said. "I had +rather that we Strangeweys died out, that the roof +dropped off Peak Hall and the walls stood naked to +the sky, than that this woman should be your wife and +the mother of your children!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 272]</span> +"Let it go at that, then, Stephen," John replied. +"It is enough for me to say that I will not take it ill +from you, because you do not know her."</p> + +<p>"But I do know her," Stephen answered. "Perhaps +she didn't tell you that I paid her a visit?"</p> + +<p>"You paid her a visit?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, that I did! She wouldn't tell you. There'll +be many a thing in life she won't tell you. I went to +let her hear from my lips what I thought of her as a +wife for you. I told her what I thought of a woman +who plays the part of a wanton—"</p> + +<p>"Stephen!" John thundered.</p> + +<p>"The part of an adulterous wife upon the stage for +every man and woman who pay their silver to go and +gape at! It seems I did no good—no good, that is, +if she has promised to marry you."</p> + +<p>John drew a breath. His task was harder, even, +than he had imagined. All the time he tried to keep +one thought fixed in his mind. Stephen was his elder +brother. It was Stephen who had been his guardian +and his guide through all his youth. He thought of +Stephen's fifty odd years of simple and strenuous living, +of his charity, of his strength—that very strength +which had kept him in the narrow way, which had kept +him from looking to the right or to the left in his walk +through life.</p> + +<p>"Stephen," John said, "you are growing harder +with the years. Was there never a time, when you +were younger, when you were my age, when you felt +differently toward women?"</p> + +<p>"Never, thank Heaven!" Stephen replied. "I was +too near the sorrow that fell upon our house when our +father died with a broken heart. There were the other +two as well—one with a bullet in his brain, the other +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 273]</span> +a drunkard. Maybe, when I was your age, I felt at +times what I suppose you feel. Well, I just took it +in both hands and strangled it. If you must have a +sweetheart, why don't you take the little fair-haired +girl—Sophy, you called her? She'd do you as little +harm as any of them."</p> + +<p>"Because it is not a sweetheart of that sort I want," +John protested vigorously. "I've had the same feelings +as most men, I suppose, but I've fought my battle +out to the end, only for a different reason. I want a +wife and I want children."</p> + +<p>"Will she bring you children, that woman?" Stephen +asked bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I hope so," John asserted simply. "I believe +so."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence. Stephen lit his pipe +and puffed steadily at it, his eyes fixed upon the log +that blazed on the hearth.</p> + +<p>"There is a muzzle upon my mouth," he said presently. +"There are words close to my lips which would +part you and me, so I'll say no more. Go your own +way, John. I'll ask you but one more question, and +you must take that as man from man, brother from +brother. How old is she?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-seven."</p> + +<p>"And she has been an actress, playing parts like +the one I saw her in, for how long?"</p> + +<p>"Since she was nineteen," John replied.</p> + +<p>"And you believe she's a good woman?"</p> + +<p>John gripped at the sides of his chair. With a tremendous +effort he kept the torrent of words from his +lips.</p> + +<p>"I know she is," he answered calmly.</p> + +<p>"Has she told you so?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 274]</span> +"A man has no need to put such a question to the +woman he cares for."</p> + +<p>"Then you haven't asked her?"</p> + +<p>John laid down his pipe and rose to his feet. He +gripped his brother by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Stephen," he said, "it's a hard fight for me, this, +to sit face to face with you and know what you are +thinking, with the love for this woman strong and sweet +in my heart. You don't understand, Stephen; you're +a long way from understanding. But you are my +brother. Don't make it too hard! I am not a child. +Believe in me. I would not take any woman to be my +wife, and the mother of my children, who was not a +good woman. I am off to-morrow morning, Stephen. +I came all the way just on an impulse, because I felt +that I must tell you myself. It would be one of the +best things in the world to ride that ten miles back +again to-morrow morning, to have told you how things +are, to have felt your hand in mine, and to know that +there was no shadow of misunderstanding between us!"</p> + +<p>Stephen, too, rose to his feet. They stood together +before the fire.</p> + +<p>"Man to man, John," Stephen said, as he gripped his +brother by the hands, "I love you this moment as I +always have done and as I always shall do. And if this +thing must be between us, I'll say but one last word, +and you'll take it from me, even though I am the only +man on earth you'd take it from. Before you marry, +ask her!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 275]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXII</h2> + +<p>John went back to town, telling himself that all had +gone as well as he had expected. He had done his duty. +He had told Stephen his news, and they had parted +friends. Yet all the time he was conscious of an undercurrent +of disconcerting thoughts.</p> + +<p>Louise met him at the station, and he fancied that +her expression, too, although she welcomed him gaily +enough, was a little anxious.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she asked, as she took his arm and led him +to where her motor-car was waiting. "What did that +terrible brother of yours say?"</p> + +<p>John made a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"It might have been worse," he declared. "Stephen +wasn't pleased, of course. He hates women like poison, +and he always will. That is because he doesn't know +very much about them, and because he will insist upon +dwelling upon certain unhappy incidents of our family +history."</p> + +<p>"I shall never forget the morning he came to call +on me," Louise sighed. "He threatened all sorts of +terrible things if I did not give you up."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me about it?" John asked.</p> + +<p>"I thought it might worry you," she replied, "and +it couldn't do any good. He believed he was doing his +duty. John, you are sure about yourself, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Come and have tea with me in my rooms, and I'll +tell you," he laughed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 276]</span> +"Just what I'd planned to do," she assented, with a +sigh of content. "It's too late to go home and get +back to the theater comfortably."</p> + +<p>"The theater!" John murmured, a few minutes later, +when they were seated in his comfortable little sitting +room and he had ordered tea. "Do you know that I +grudge those three or four hours of your day?"</p> + +<p>"I believe I do, too," she admitted; "and yet a little +while ago it was my only pleasure in life. Don't sit +over there, please! You are much too far away. +Closer still! Let me feel your arms. You are strong +and brave, aren't you, John? You would not let any +one take me away from you?"</p> + +<p>He was a little startled by the earnestness of her +words. She seemed pale and fragile, her eyes larger +and deeper than usual, and her mouth tremulous. She +was like a child with the shadow of some fear hanging +over her. He laughed and held her tightly to him.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing that could take you away—you +know that quite well! There is nobody in the world +whom you need fear for a single moment. If you have +troubles, I am here to share them. If you have enemies, +you can leave me to dispose of them."</p> + +<p>"I think," she murmured, "that I am in an emotional +frame of mind to-day. I am not often like this, you +know. I woke this morning feeling so happy; and then, +all of a sudden, I couldn't somehow believe in it—in +myself. I felt it slip away. You won't let it slip +away, John?"</p> + +<p>"Never a chance!" he promised confidently. "Look +at me. Do I seem like a person to be easily got rid of? +What you need is a holiday, and you need it badly. We +haven't made any plans yet, have we? I wonder whether +we could break your contract at the theater!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 277]</span> +"We must talk to Graillot," she said. "There is a +little Frenchwoman over here now. I once saw her act +in Paris, and I am sure she could play <i>Thérèse</i> wonderfully. +But don't let's talk seriously any longer. Just +let us sit here and talk nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"Have you told any of your friends yet, Louise—the +prince, for instance?"</p> + +<p>He had asked this question on his way across the room +to ring the bell. There was no reply, and when he +turned around, a moment or two later, he was almost +frightened. Louise was sitting quite still, but the color +seemed to have been drained from her cheeks. Her +eyes were filled with some expression which he did not +wholly understand. He only knew that they were calling +him to her side, and he promptly obeyed the summons. +Her head fell upon his shoulder, her arms were +locked about his neck.</p> + +<p>"John," she sobbed, "I do not know what is the matter +with me. I am hysterical. Don't ask me any questions. +Don't talk to me. Hold me like you are doing +now, and listen. I love you, John—do you understand?—I +love you!"</p> + +<p>Her lips sought his and clung to them. A queer +little wave of passion seemed to have seized her. Half +crying, half laughing, she pressed her face against his. +"I do not want to act to-night. I do not want to play, +even to the most wonderful audience in the world. I +do not want to shake hands with many hundreds of people +at that hateful reception. I think I want nothing +else in the world but you!"</p> + +<p>She lay, for a moment, passive in his arms. He +smoothed her hair and kissed her tenderly. Then he +led her back to her place upon the couch. Her emotional +mood, while it flattered him in a sense, did nothing +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 278]</span> +to quiet the little demons of unrest that pulled, every +now and then, at his heart-strings.</p> + +<p>"What is this reception?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She made a little grimace.</p> + +<p>"It is a formal welcome from the English stage to +the French company that has come over to play at the +new French theater," she told him. "Sir Edward +and I are to receive them. You will come, will you +not?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't an invitation," he told her.</p> + +<p>"Invitation? I invite you. I am the hostess of +the evening."</p> + +<p>"Then I am not likely to refuse, am I?" he asked, +smiling. "Shall I come to the theater?"</p> + +<p>"Come straight to the reception at the Whitehall +Rooms," she begged. "Sir Edward is calling for me, +and Graillot will go down with us. Later, if you care +to, you can drive me home."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," he suggested, "that it would be +rather a good opportunity to announce our engagement?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-night!" she pleaded. "You know, I cannot +seem to believe it myself except when I am with +you and we are alone. It seems too wonderful after +all these years. Do you know, John, that I am nearly +thirty?"</p> + +<p>He laughed.</p> + +<p>"How pathetic! All the more reason, I should say, +why we should let people know about it as soon as +possible."</p> + +<p>"There is no particular hurry," she said, a little +nervously. "Let me get used to it myself. I don't +think you will have to wait long. Everything I have +been used to doing and thinking seems to be crumbling +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 279]</span> +up around me. Last night I even hated my work, or +at least part of it."</p> + +<p>His eyes lit up with genuine pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say +that," he declared. "I don't hate your work—I've +got over that. I don't think I am narrow about it. I +admire Graillot, and his play is wonderful. But I +think, and I always shall think, that the dénouement in +that third act is damnable!"</p> + +<p>She nodded understandingly.</p> + +<p>"I am beginning to realize how you must feel," she +confessed. "We won't talk about it any more now. +Drive me to the theater, will you? I want to be there +early to-night, just to get everything ready for changing +afterward."</p> + +<p>The telephone-bell rang as they were leaving the +room. John put the receiver to his ear and a moment +later held it away.</p> + +<p>"It is Sophy," he announced. "Shall I tell them +to send her up?"</p> + +<p>"Sophy, indeed!" Louise exclaimed. "I thought +she was in the country, on tour, and was not expected +back until to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I thought she went away for a week," John said, +"but there she is, waiting down-stairs."</p> + +<p>Louise hesitated for a moment. Then she came over +to John with a tremulous little smile at the corners of +her lips.</p> + +<p>"Dear," she said, "I am in a strange frame of mind +to-day. I don't want even to see Sophy. Tell them +to send her up here. She can wait for you while you +take me out the other way."</p> + +<p>"May I tell her?" John asked, as he rang for the +lift. "She has been such a good little pal!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 280]</span> +Once more Louise seemed to hesitate. A vague look +of trouble clouded her face.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had better, dear," she agreed spiritlessly. +"Only tell her not to breathe it to another +soul. It is to be our secret for a little time—not long—just +a day or two longer."</p> + +<p>The gates of the lift swung open, and John raised +her fingers to his lips.</p> + +<p>"It is for you to say, dear," he promised.</p> + +<p>When he came back to his room, Sophy was curled +up on the couch with a cigarette between her lips. She +looked at him severely.</p> + +<p>"I am losing faith in you," she declared. "There +are signs of a hurried departure from this room. There +is a distinct perfume of roses about the place. You +have always told me that I am the only visitor of my +sex you allow here. I am fiercely jealous! Tell me +what this tea-tray and the empty cups mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means Louise," he answered, smiling. "She has +just this moment gone away."</p> + +<p>Sophy sighed with an air of mock relief.</p> + +<p>"Louise I suppose I must tolerate," she said. +"Fancy her coming here to tea with you, though!"</p> + +<p>"I have been up to Cumberland for a day," he +told her, "and Louise came to meet me at the station."</p> + +<p>"How is your angel brother?" she asked. "Did +he ask after me?"</p> + +<p>"He did mention you," John confessed. "I don't +remember any direct message, though. You want a +cocktail, of course, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Dying for it," she admitted. "I have had such a +dull week! We've been playing in wretched little places, +and last night the show went bust. The manager presented +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 281]</span> +us with our fares home this morning. We were +only down in Surrey, so here I am."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad to see you back again," John told +her, after he had ordered the cocktails. "Louise has +been quite lost without you, too."</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to go away," she sighed, "but I +do get so tired of not working! Although my part +wasn't worth anything, I hated it being cut out. It +makes one feel so aimless. One has too much time to +think."</p> + +<p>He laughed at her, pleasantly but derisively.</p> + +<p>"Time to think!" he repeated. "Why, I have never +seen you serious for five minutes in your life, except +when you've been adding up Louise's housekeeping-books!"</p> + +<p>She threw her cigarette into the grate, swung round +toward him, and looked steadily into his face.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you?" she said. "I can be. I often am. +It isn't my correct pose, though. People don't like me +serious. If they take me out or entertain me, they +think they are being cheated if I am not continually +gay. You see what it is to have a reputation for being +amusing! Louise keeps me by her side to talk nonsense +to her, to keep her from being depressed. Men take +me out because I am bright, because I save them the +trouble of talking, and they don't feel quite so stupid +with me as with another woman. My young man at +Bath wants to marry me for the same reason. He +thinks it would be so pleasant to have me always at hand +to chatter nonsense. That is why you like me, too. +You have been pitched into a strange world. You are +not really in touch with it. You like to be with some +one who will talk nonsense and take you a little way +out of it. I am just a little fool, you see, a harmless +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 282]</span> +little creature in cap and bells whom every one amuses +himself with."</p> + +<p>John stared at her for a moment, only half understanding.</p> + +<p>"Why, little girl," he exclaimed, "I believe you're +in earnest!"</p> + +<p>"I am in deadly earnest," she assured him, her voice +breaking a little. "Don't take any notice of me. I +have had a wretched week, and it's a rotten world, +anyway."</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door, and the waiter entered +with the cocktails.</p> + +<p>"Come," John said, as he took one from the tray, +"I will tell you some news that will give you something +to think about. I hope that you will be glad—I feel +sure that you will. I want you to be the first to drink +our healths—Louise's and mine!"</p> + +<p>The glass slipped through her fingers and fell upon +the carpet. She never uttered even an exclamation. +John was upon his knees, picking up the broken glass.</p> + +<p>"My fault," he insisted. "I am so sorry, Sophy. +I am afraid some of the stuff has gone on your frock. +Looks as if you'll have to take me out shopping. I'll +ring for another cocktail."</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet and stepped toward the bell. +Then it suddenly occurred to him that as yet she had +not spoken. He turned quickly around.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he exclaimed, "what is the matter? +Aren't you going to congratulate me?"</p> + +<p>She was sitting bolt upright upon the couch, her +fingers buried in the cushions, her eyes closed. He +moved quickly across toward her.</p> + +<p>"I say, Sophy, what's wrong?" he asked hastily. +"Aren't you well?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 283]</span> +She waved him away.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch me," she begged. "I went without my +lunch—nearly missed the train, as it was. I was feeling +a little queer when I came, and dropping that glass +gave me a shock. Let me drink yours, may I?"</p> + +<p>He handed it to her, and she drained its contents. +Then she smiled up at him weakly.</p> + +<p>"What a shame!" she said. "Just as you were +telling me your wonderful news! I can scarcely believe +it—you and Louise!"</p> + +<p>John sat down beside her.</p> + +<p>"Louise does not want it talked about for a day or +two," he observed. "We have not made any plans +yet."</p> + +<p>"Is Louise going to remain upon the stage?"</p> + +<p>"Probably, if she wishes it," he replied; "but I +want to travel first for a year or so, before we settle +definitely upon anything. I did not think that you +would be so much surprised, Sophy."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am not really," she admitted. "One +thinks of a thing as being possible, for a long time, and +when it actually comes—well, it takes you off your +feet just the same. You know," she added slowly, +"there are no two people in this world so far apart in +their ways as you and Louise."</p> + +<p>"That is true from one point of view," he confessed. +"From another, I think that there are no two people +so close together. Of course, it seems wonderful to me, +and I suppose it does to you, Sophy, that she should +care for a man of my type. She is so brilliant and +so talented, such a woman of this latter-day world, the +world of which I am about as ignorant as a man can be. +Perhaps, after all, that is the real explanation of it. +Each of us represents things new to the other."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 284]</span> +"Did you say that no one has been told yet—no +one at all?"</p> + +<p>"No one except Stephen," John assented. "That +is why I went up to Cumberland, to tell him."</p> + +<p>"You have not told the prince?" Sophy asked, +dropping her voice a little. "Louise has not told +him?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?" John +inquired, looking into Sophy's face.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she answered. "It just occurred to +me. He and Louise have known each other for such +a long time, and I wondered what he might have to say +about it."</p> + +<p>John laid his hands upon the poisonous thoughts that +had stolen once more into his blood, and told himself +that he had strangled them. He swept them away and +glanced at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Let's have some dinner before I change, down in +the grill-room—in a quarter of an hour's time, say. I +don't want to be at the theater before the second act."</p> + +<p>Sophy hesitated. There was a hard feeling in her +throat, a burning at the back of her eyes. She was +passionately anxious to be alone, yet she could not bring +herself to refuse. She could not deny herself, or tear +herself at once away from the close companionship which +seemed, somehow or other, to have crept up between +herself and John, and to have become the one thing that +counted in life.</p> + +<p>"I'd love to," she said, "but remember I've been +traveling. Look at me! I must either go home, or +you must let me go into your room—"</p> + +<p>"Make yourself at home," John invited. "I have +three letters to write, and some telephone messages to +answer."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 285]</span> +Sophy lit another cigarette and strolled jauntily +through his suite of rooms. When she was quite sure +that she was alone, however, she closed the door behind +her, dropped her cigarette, and staggered to the window. +She stood there, gazing down into an alleyway six +stories below, where the people passing back and forth +looked like dwarf creatures.</p> + +<p>One little movement forward! No one could have +been meant to bear pain like this. She set her teeth.</p> + +<p>"It would be so soon over!"</p> + +<p>Then she suddenly found that she could see nothing; +the people below were blurred images. A rush of relief +had come to her. She sank into the nearest chair and +sobbed.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 286]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXIII</h2> + +<p>The reception in honor of the little company of +French tragedians, at which almost the whole of the +English stage and a sprinkling of society people were +present, was a complete success. Louise made a charming +hostess, and Sir Edward more than ever justified +his reputation for saying the right thing to the right +person at the right moment. The rooms were crowded +with throngs of distinguished people, who all seemed to +have plenty to say to one another.</p> + +<p>The only person, perhaps, who found himself curiously +ill at ease was John. He heard nothing but +French on all sides of him—a language which he read +with some facility, but which he spoke like a schoolboy. +He had been wandering about for more than an hour +before Louise discovered him. She at once left her +place and crossed the room to where he was standing by +the wall.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up!" she begged, with a delightful smile. +"I am afraid that you are being bored to death. Will +you not come and be presented to our guests?"</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake, no!" John implored. "I have +never seen one of them act, and my French is appalling. +I am all right, dear. It's quite enough pleasure to see +you looking so beautiful, and to think that I am going +to be allowed to drive you home afterward."</p> + +<p>Louise looked into a neighboring mirror, and gazed +critically at her own reflected image. The lines of her +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 287]</span> +figure, fine and subtle, seemed traced by the finger of +some great sculptor underneath her faultlessly made +white-satin gown. She studied her white neck and +shoulders and her perfectly shaped head, seeking everywhere +for some detail with which an impartial critic +might find fault.</p> + +<p>She had a curious feeling that at that precise moment +she had reached the zenith of her power and her +charm. Her audience at the theater had been wonderfully +sympathetic, had responded with rare appreciation +to every turn of her voice, to every movement and +gesture. The compliments, too, which she had been +receiving from the crowds who had bent over her fingers +that night had been no idle words. Many distinguished +men had looked at her with a light in their eyes which +women understand so well—a light questioning yet +respectful, which provokes yet begs for something in the +way of response.</p> + +<p>She was conscious, acutely conscious, of the atmosphere +she had created around her. She was glorying +in the subtle outward signs of it. She was in love with +herself; in love, too, with this delightful new feeling +of loving. It would have given her more joy than +anything else in the world, in that moment of her triumph, +to have passed her arm through John's, to have +led him up to them all, and to have said:</p> + +<p>"After all, you see, I am a very simple sort of woman. +I have done just the sort of simple thing that other +women do, and I am glad of it—very glad and very +happy!"</p> + +<p>Her lips moved to the music of her thoughts. John +leaned toward her.</p> + +<p>"Did you say anything?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You dear stupid, of course I did not! Or if I did, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 288]</span> +it was just one of those little whispers to oneself which +mean nothing, yet which count for so much. Can I +not do anything to make you enjoy yourself more? I +shall have to go back to my guests now. We are expecting +a royal personage, and those two dears who +keep so close to my side do not speak a word of +English."</p> + +<p>"Please go back, dear," John begged promptly. "It +was nice of you to come at all. And here's Sophy at +last, thank goodness! Now I am all right."</p> + +<p>She laid her fingers upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"You must take me back to my place," she said. +"Then you can go and talk nonsense to Sophy. I +won't even ask you what she said when you told her the +news. I suppose you did tell her?"</p> + +<p>"Of course!"</p> + +<p>She glanced at him swiftly. His reply had sounded a +little lame; but they were back in the crowd now, and +she dismissed him with a little nod. He made his way +quickly to the spot where he had seen Sophy. To his +disappointment, she had disappeared. Graillot, however, +came up and seized him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Still playing the moth, my young friend?" he +exclaimed. "Aren't the wings sufficiently burned +yet?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid it's become a permanent rôle," John +replied, as the two men shook hands. "Where have you +been all these weeks, and why haven't you been to see +me?"</p> + +<p>"Paris, my dear young friend—Paris and life! +Now I am back again—I am not sure that I know why. +I came over with these French people, to see them start +their theater. Forgive me, I have not paid my respects +to our hostess. We shall meet again presently."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 289]</span> +He strolled off, and a few minutes later John found +Sophy.</p> + +<p>"How late you are!" he grumbled.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help it," she answered. "This is the +only evening dress I possess at present, and I had to +mend it before it was decent to come out in. Why are +you wandering about alone? Hasn't Louise been kind +to you?"</p> + +<p>"She has been charming," John declared promptly, +"but she is surrounded with all sorts of people I don't +know. I can't help her. For one thing, my French +is absurd. Then they are all talking about things which +I don't understand in the least."</p> + +<p>Sophy remained silent for a moment. Then she took +John's arm and led him to the buffet.</p> + +<p>"Give me an ice and a cigarette, will you, please? +You are a dear, impractical person, but you are as +much out of this world as a human being well could be!"</p> + +<p>John waited upon her without any further remark. +The Prince of Seyre, passing through, bowed to them. +John looked after his retreating figure. An irresistible +impulse seized him.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he asked, sitting down by her side, "tell +me, why have the prince and Louise always been such +great friends?"</p> + +<p>Sophy looked steadfastly at her ice.</p> + +<p>"I suppose because the prince is a very clever and +cultivated person," she said. "He has been of great +assistance to Louise several times. It was he who +financed Miles Faraday when he put on this play of +Graillot's. Graillot hasn't a penny, you know, and +poor Miles was almost broke after three failures."</p> + +<p>"That was just an investment," John remarked +irritably. "He will get his money back again."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 290]</span> +"Of course," Sophy agreed. "I think the prince +generally manages to get value for what he does in +life."</p> + +<p>"You don't think Louise ever thought of caring for +him, do you?" John persisted.</p> + +<p>Sophy paused until she had lit a cigarette. The +expression in her face, when she looked up at John, +irritated him vaguely. It was as if she were talking to +a child.</p> + +<p>"I think," she said, "you had better ask Louise that +question yourself, don't you?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He asked it an hour or so later, when at last the +party of guests had taken their leave, and, somewhat to +the well-bred surprise of the one or two friends who +lingered, Louise had beckoned to John to take her out +to her car. Her hand had sought his at once, her head +rested a little wearily but very contentedly upon his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Louise dear," he began, "I asked Sophy a question +to-night which I ought to have asked you. Quite properly, +she told me so."</p> + +<p>"Nice little soul, Sophy!" Louise murmured. +"What was it, John?"</p> + +<p>"Once or twice I have wondered," he went on, +"whether you have ever cared in any sort of way, or +come near to caring, for the Prince of Seyre?"</p> + +<p>For a moment she made no movement. Then she +turned her head and looked at him. The sleepy content +had gone from her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it quite a natural question from a jealous man +who believes that every one who sees you must be in +love with you? You have seen a great deal of the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 291]</span> +prince, haven't you, in the last few years? He understands +your art. There are many things that you and +he have in common."</p> + +<p>Louise was looking out of the window at the thin +stream of people still passing along Piccadilly. She +seemed suddenly to have become only the shadow of her +former brilliant self.</p> + +<p>"I think that once—perhaps twice," she confessed, +"I came very near to caring for him."</p> + +<p>"And now?"</p> + +<p>"And now," she repeated, suddenly gripping John's +hands, "I tell you that I am very much nearer hating +him. So much for the prince! In ten minutes we shall +be at home, and you are such a dear stupid about coming +in. You must try to say all the nice things in the +world to me quickly—in ten minutes!"</p> + +<p>"How shall I begin?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>She leaned once more toward him.</p> + +<p>"You don't need any hints," she murmured. +"You're really quite good at it!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 292]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXIV</h2> + +<p>The ten minutes passed very much too quickly. She +was gone, and John, thrilled though he was through all +his senses by the almost passionate fervor of her leave-taking, +found himself once more confronted by that +little black demon. He sat up in the car, which bore +him quickly back toward his rooms; and although the +sense of her presence, the delicate perfume, the empty +place by his side, even a fallen flower from her gown, +were still there, the unrest seemed sharper.</p> + +<p>There was something about all of them, all these +people whom he knew to be his friends, which seemed to +him to savor of a conspiracy. One by one they flitted +through his brain—Graillot's covert warning; Sophy's +plaintive, almost fearful doubts; the prince's subtle yet +cynical silence; and behind it all, Stephen's brutal and +outspoken words. There was nothing that could be +put into definite shape—just the ghost of torturing, +impossible thoughts. John told himself that it must +be ended. Even though the words should blister his +tongue with shame, they must be spoken.</p> + +<p>A moment later he hated himself for the thought. +He set his teeth, filled his thought with the glory of her +presence, and crushed those demoniacal suggestions to +the back of his brain. He was in no humor to go home, +however. Changing the order he had first given to the +chauffeur, he was driven instead to a small Bohemian +club which he had joined at Graillot's instigation. He +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 293]</span> +had a vague hope that he might find the great dramatist +there. There were no signs of him, however, in the +smoking room, or any one else whom John knew.</p> + +<p>He threw himself into an easy chair and ordered a +whisky-and-soda. Two men close at hand were writing +at desks; others were lounging about, discussing the +evening's reception. One man, sitting upon the table, +a recognized authority, was treating the company to a +fluent dissertation upon modern actresses, winding up +by contrasting Louise Maurel's style with that of her +chief French rival. John found himself listening with +pleased interest. The man's opinion was certainly not +unfavorable to Louise.</p> + +<p>"It is only in the finer shades of emotionalism," the +critic declared, "that these French actresses get at us a +little more completely even than Louise Maurel. Do +you know the reason? I'll tell you. It is because they +live the life. They have a dozen new emotions in a season. +They make a cult of feeling. They use their +brains to dissect their passions. They cut their own +life into small pieces and give us the result without concealment. +That is where they score, if anywhere. +This Mme. Latrobe, who opens over here to-morrow +night, is living at the present moment with Jean Tourbet. +She had an affair with that Italian poet in the +summer, so they tell me. She was certainly in Madrid in +October with Bretoldi, the sculptor. These men are all +great artists. Think what she must have learned from +associating with them! Now Louise Maurel, so far as +we know, has never had but one lover, the Prince of +Seyre, and has been faithful to him all the time."</p> + +<p>It was out at last! John had heard it spoken in plain +words. The black demon upon which his hand had lain +so heavily, was alive now, without a doubt, jeering at +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 294]</span> +him, mocking at him—alive and self-assertive in the +sober words of the elderly, well-bred man who lounged +upon the table.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two John was stunned. A wild +impulse assailed him to leap up and confront them all, +to choke the lie back down the throat of the man who +had uttered it. Every nerve in his body was tingling +with the desire for action. The stupor of his senses +alone kept him motionless, and a strange, incomprehensible +clarity of thought. He realized exactly how +things were. This man had not spoken idly, or as a +scandalmonger. He had spoken what he had accepted +as a fact, what other people believed.</p> + +<p>John rose to his feet and made his way toward the +door. His face showed little sign of disturbance. He +even nodded to some men whom he knew slightly. As +he passed down the stairs, he met Graillot. Then once +more the self-control became in danger. He seized the +Frenchman savagely by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Come this way," he said, leading him toward the +card-room. "Come in here! I want to speak to +you."</p> + +<p>He locked the door—a most unheard-of and irregular +proceeding. Graillot felt the coming of the storm.</p> + +<p>"Well!" he exclaimed grimly. "Trouble already, +eh? I see it in your face, young man. Out with it!"</p> + +<p>John—who had won a hard match at rackets a few +days before against a more experienced opponent simply +because of his perfect condition—was breathing hard. +There was a dull patch of color in his cheek, drops of +sweat stood upon his forehead. He controlled his voice +with difficulty. Its tone was sharp and unfamiliar.</p> + +<p>"I was sitting in the smoking room there, a few +moments ago," he began, jerking his head toward the +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 295]</span> +door. "There were some men talking—decent fellows, +not dirty scandalmongers. They spoke of Louise +Maurel."</p> + +<p>Graillot nodded gravely. He knew very well what +was coming.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"They spoke, also, of the Prince of Seyre."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>John felt his throat suddenly dry. The words he +would have spoken choked him. He banged his fist +upon the table by the side of which they were standing.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Graillot," he cried, almost piteously, +"you know it is not true, not likely to be true! Can't +you say so?"</p> + +<p>"Stop, my young friend!" the Frenchman interrupted. +"I know nothing. It is a habit of mine to +know nothing when people make suggestions of that +sort. I make no inquiries. I accept life and people as +I find them."</p> + +<p>"But you don't believe that such a thing could be +possible?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Graillot asked steadily.</p> + +<p>John could do no more than mumble a repetition of +his words. The world was falling away from him. He +was dimly conscious that one of the engravings upon +the wall opposite was badly hung. For the rest, Graillot's +face, stern, yet pitying, seemed to loom like the +features of a giant, eclipsing everything else.</p> + +<p>"I will not discuss this matter with you, my friend. +I will only ask you to remember the views of the world +in which we live. Louise Maurel is an artist, a great +artist. If there has been such an affair as you suggest, +between her and any man, if it were something which +appealed to her affections, it is my opinion that she +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 296]</span> +would not hesitate. You seem to think it an outrageous +thing that the prince should have been her lover. To +be perfectly frank, I do not. I should be very much +more surprised at her marriage."</p> + +<p>John made his escape somehow. He remembered +opening the door, but he had no recollection of reaching +the street. A few minutes later, however, he found +himself striding down Piccadilly toward Hyde Park +Corner.</p> + +<p>The night was warm, and there were still plenty of +people about. A woman touched his arm; her hackneyed +greeting filled him with inexpressible horror. He +stared at her, barely conscious of what he was doing, +filled with an indescribable sickness of heart.</p> + +<p>"You look about done up," she said in friendly fashion. +"Come round to my flat and have a drink. You +needn't stay if you don't want to."</p> + +<p>He muttered something and passed on. A moment +or two later, however, he retraced his steps. Out of +the horror of his thought had come an irresistible impulse. +He slipped some gold into her hand.</p> + +<p>"Please take this and go home," he enjoined. "Go +home at once! Get out of the streets and hide yourself."</p> + +<p>She stared at him and at the money.</p> + +<p>"Why, I've only just come out," she protested. +"All the same, I'm dead tired. I'll go. Walk with +me, won't you? You look as if you wanted looking +after."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," he answered. "You go home."</p> + +<p>She slipped the money carefully into her purse, and +hailed a taxi.</p> + +<p>"You shall have your own way," she declared. +"Can't I drop you anywhere?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 297]</span> +He raised his hat, and, once more swinging around, +passed on his way. Presently he found himself in the +street where Louise lived. He looked at his watch—it +was twenty minutes to three o'clock.</p> + +<p>The house was in solemn darkness. He stood and +looked up at it. There was no sign of a light, not even +from the top windows. Its silence seemed to him more +than the silence of sleep. He found himself wondering +whether it was really inhabited, whether there were +really human souls in this quiet corner, waiting peacefully +for the dawn, heedless of the torment which was +tearing his soul to pieces. Perhaps, behind that drawn +blind, Louise herself was awake. Perhaps she was +thinking, looking back into the past, wondering about +the future. He took a step toward the gate.</p> + +<p>"Are you going in there, sir?"</p> + +<p>He turned quickly around. A policeman had flashed +a lantern upon him. John suddenly became intensely +matter-of-fact.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied. "It is too late, I am afraid. I +see that they have all gone to bed. Any chance of a +taxi about here?"</p> + +<p>"Most likely you'll find one at the corner," the +policeman pointed out. "There's a rank there, and +one or two of them generally stay late. Very much +obliged, sir."</p> + +<p>John had slipped a coin into the man's hand. Then +he walked deliberately away. He found a taxicab and +was driven toward the Milan. He let down both the +windows and leaned out. He was conscious of a wild +desire to keep away from his rooms—to spend the +night anywhere, anyhow, sooner than go back to the +little apartment where Louise had sat with him only a +few hours ago, and had given herself into his arms. +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 298]</span> +Every pulse in his body was tingling. He was fiercely +awake, eager for motion, action, excitement of any sort.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he remembered the night-club to which +he had been introduced by Sophy on the first night of +his arrival in London. The address, too, was there +quite clearly in his disordered brain. He leaned out +of the cab and repeated it to the driver.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 299]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXV</h2> + +<p>The little place was unexpectedly crowded when John +entered, after having handed his hat and coat to a +<i>vestiaire</i>. A large supper-party was going on at the +further end, and the dancing space was smaller than +usual. The <i>maître d'hôtel</i> was escorting John to a +small table in a distant corner, which had just been +vacated, when the latter heard his name suddenly called +by a familiar voice. Sophy, who had been dancing, +abandoned her partner precipitately and came hurrying +up to John with outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>"John!" she exclaimed. "You, of all people in the +world! What do you mean by coming here alone at +this time of night? Fancy not telling me! Is anything +the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," he replied. "I really don't exactly +know why I am here. I simply didn't want to go to +bed."</p> + +<p>She looked at him closely. It was clear that she was +a little puzzled at his appearance.</p> + +<p>"If it were not you, John," she declared, "I should +say that you had been having more to drink than was +good for you!"</p> + +<p>"Then you would be very wrong," John assured her, +"because I haven't had anything at all. I have come +here to get something. Can't you come and sit with +me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course!" she assented eagerly. "The prince +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 300]</span> +is giving a supper-party at the other end of the room +there. We all came on together from the reception. +Let us get away to your corner quickly, or they will +see you and make you go and join them. I would much +rather have you to myself. The people here seem so +stupid to-night!"</p> + +<p>John stood still, and made no movement toward the +table which the <i>maître d'hôtel</i> was smilingly preparing +for them.</p> + +<p>"Where is the prince?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Sophy, struck by something in his voice, swung +around and looked at him. Then she thrust both her +arms through his, clasped her two hands together, and +led him firmly away. A glimmering of the truth was +beginning to dawn upon her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me where you have been since you left the +reception," she insisted, when at last they were seated +together.</p> + +<p>"Wait till I have ordered some wine," he said.</p> + +<p>A waiter served them with champagne. When John's +glass was filled, he drained its contents. Sophy watched +him with surprise. She came a little closer to him.</p> + +<p>"John," she whispered, "you must tell me—do +you hear? You must tell me everything! Did you +take Louise home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What happened, then? You didn't quarrel with +her?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all happened," he assured her. "We +parted the best of friends. It wasn't that."</p> + +<p>"Then what? Remember that I am your friend, +John dear. Tell me everything."</p> + +<p>He poured himself more wine and drank it.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," he assented. "I went to a little +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 301]</span> +club I belong to on the Adelphi Terrace. I sat down in +the smoking room. There was no one there I knew. +Some men were talking. They had been to the reception +to-night. They were comparing French actresses +and English. They spoke first of the French woman, +Latrobe, and her lovers; then of Louise. They spoke +quite calmly, like men discussing history. They compared +the two actresses, they compared their lives. +Latrobe, they said, had lovers by the score—Louise +only one."</p> + +<p>Sophy's hand stole into his. She was watching the +twisting of his features. She understood so well the +excitement underneath.</p> + +<p>"I think I can guess," she whispered. "Don't hurt +yourself telling me. Something was said about the +prince!"</p> + +<p>His eyes blazed down upon her.</p> + +<p>"You, too?" he muttered. "Does the whole world +know of it and speak as if it did not matter? Sophy, +is it true? Speak out! Don't be afraid of hurting me. +You call yourself my friend. I've been down, looking +at the outside of her house. I dared not go in. +There's a fire burning in my soul! Tell me if it is +true!"</p> + +<p>"You must not ask me that question, John," she +begged. "How should I know? Besides, these things +are so different in our world, the world you haven't +found out much about yet. Supposing it were true, +John," she went on, "remember that it was before you +knew her. Supposing it should be true, remember this—your +idea of life is too absurd. Is one creed made to +fit human beings who may differ in a million different +ways? A woman may be as good as any ever born into +the world, and yet take just a little love into her life, if +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 302]</span> +she be true and faithful in doing it. I don't believe +there is a dearer or sweeter woman breathing than +Louise, but one must have love. Don't I know it? A +man may be strong enough to live without it, but a +woman—never!"</p> + +<p>The skirts of the women brushed their table as they +danced, the rhythm of the music rose and fell above the +murmur of laughter and conversation. John looked +around the room, and a sort of despair crept in upon +him. It was no good! He had come to London to +understand; he understood nothing. He was made of +the wrong fiber. If only he could change himself! If +it were not too late! If he could make himself like +other men!</p> + +<p>He turned and glanced at his companion. Sophy +was looking very sweet and very wistful. The warm +touch of her fingers was grateful. Her sympathy was +like some welcome flower in a wilderness. His heart +ached with a new desire. If only he could make himself +different! If only he could stretch out his hand for the +flowers which made the lives of other men so sweet!</p> + +<p>"I must not ask you any more questions, Sophy," he +said. "You are her friend, and you have spoken very +sweetly. To-morrow I will go and see her."</p> + +<p>"And to-night, forget it all," she pleaded. "Wipe +it out of your memory. Louise and your future belong +to to-morrow. To-night she is not here, and I am. +Even if you are furiously in love with her, there isn't +any harm in your being just a little nice to me. Give +me some champagne; and I want some caviar sandwiches!"</p> + +<p>"I wonder why you are so good to me, Sophy!" he +exclaimed, as he gave the order to a waiter. "You +ought either to marry your young man down at Bath, +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 303]</span> +or to have a sweetheart of your own, a companion, some +one quite different."</p> + +<p>"How different?"</p> + +<p>"Some one who cared for you as you deserve to be +cared for, and whom you cared for, too."</p> + +<p>"I cannot take these things as lightly as I used to," +she answered a little sadly. "Something has come over +me lately—I don't know what it is—but I seem to +have lost my taste for flirtations. John, don't look up, +don't turn round! I have been afraid of the prince all +the evening. When you came in, I fancied that you +had been drinking. When the prince asked me something +about you, an hour or so ago, I knew that he had. +I saw him like it once before, about a year ago. Don't +take any notice of him! Don't talk to him, if you can +help it!"</p> + +<p>John was scarcely conscious of her words. A new +glow of excitement seemed to be taking entire possession +of him, to be thrilling his blood, to be shining out +of his eyes. He rose slowly to his feet. It was as if +he were being drawn forward out of himself to meet some +coming challenge.</p> + +<p>Toward their table the prince was slowly making his +way, skilfully avoiding the dancers, yet looking neither +to the right nor to the left. His eyes were fastened +upon John. If he had been drinking, as Sophy suggested, +there were few signs of it. His walk was steady; +his bearing, as usual, deliberate and distinguished.</p> + +<p>He came to a standstill beside them. Sophy's fingers +clutched at the tablecloth. The prince looked from +one to the other.</p> + +<p>"You have robbed me of a guest, Mr. Strangewey," +he remarked; "but I bear you no ill-will. It is very +seldom that one sees you in these haunts of dissipation."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 304]</span> +"It is a gala night with me," John replied, his tone +raised no more than usual, but shaking with some new +quality. "Drink a glass of wine with me, prince," he +invited, taking the bottle from the ice-pail and filling a +tumbler upon the table. "Wish me luck, won't you? +I am engaged to be married!"</p> + +<p>"I wish you happiness with all my heart," the prince +answered, holding his glass up. "May I not know the +name of the lady?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt you are prepared for the news," John +told him. "Miss Maurel has promised to become my +wife."</p> + +<p>The prince's hand was as steady as a rock. He +raised his glass to his lips.</p> + +<p>"I drink to you both with the greatest pleasure," he +said, looking John full in the face. "It is a most remarkable +coincidence. To-night is the anniversary of +the night when Louise Maurel pledged herself to me in +somewhat different fashion!"</p> + +<p>John's frame seemed for a moment to dilate, and fire +flashed from his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Will you be good enough to explain those words?" +he demanded.</p> + +<p>The prince bowed. He glanced toward Sophy.</p> + +<p>"Since you insist," he replied. "To-night, then, +let me tell you, is the anniversary of the night when +Louise Maurel consented to become my mistress!"</p> + +<p>What followed came like a thunder-clap. The prince +reeled back, his hand to his mouth, blood dropping upon +the tablecloth from his lips, where John had struck +him. He made a sudden spring at his assailant. +Sophy, shrieking, leaped to her feet. Every one else +in the place seemed paralyzed with wonder.</p> + +<p>John seized the prince by the throat, and held him for +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 305]</span> +a moment at arm's length. Then he lifted him off his +feet as one might lift a child from the floor. Holding +his helpless victim in a merciless grip, he carried him +across the room and deliberately flung him over the table +toward his empty chair.</p> + +<p>There was a crash of glass and crockery which rang +through the momentarily hushed room. The dancers +had stopped in their places, the bow of the violinist lay +idle upon the strings of his instrument. The waiters +were all standing about like graven images. Then, as +the prince fell, there was a shout, and all was pandemonium. +They rushed to where he was lying motionless, +a ghastly sight, across the wreck of his flower-strewn +supper-table.</p> + +<p>Sophy held John by the arm, clutching it hysterically, +striving to drag him away. But to John the room was +empty. He stood there, a giant, motionless figure, his +muscles still taut, his face tense, his eyes aflame, glaring +down at the prostrate figure of the man on whom he had +wreaked the accumulated fury of those last days and +weeks of madness.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 306]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXVI</h2> + +<p>Toward nine o'clock on the following morning John +rose from a fitful sleep and looked around him. Even +before he could recall the events of the preceding night +he felt that there was a weight pressing upon his brain, +a miserable sense of emptiness in life, a dull feeling of +bewilderment. Although he had no clear recollection +of getting there, he realized that he was in his own +sitting room, and that he had been asleep upon the +couch. He saw, too, that it was morning, for a ray +of sunlight lay across the carpet.</p> + +<p>As he struggled to his feet, he saw with a little shock +that he was not alone. Sophy Gerard was curled up in +his easy chair, still in evening clothes, her cloak drawn +closely around her, as if she were cold. Her head had +fallen back. She, too, was asleep. At the sound of +his movement, however, she opened her eyes and looked +at him for a moment with a puzzled stare. Then she +jumped to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Why, we have both been asleep!" she murmured, a +little weakly.</p> + +<p>At the sound of her voice it all came back to him, a +tangled, hideous nightmare. He sat down again upon +the couch and held his head between his hands.</p> + +<p>"How did I come here?" he asked. "I can't remember!"</p> + +<p>She hesitated. He answered the unspoken question +in her eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 307]</span> +"I remember everything that happened at the club," +he went on slowly. "Is the prince dead?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Of course not! He was hurt, though, and there +was a terrible scene of confusion in the room. The +people crowded around him, and I managed, somehow, +to drag you away. The manager helped us. To tell +the truth, he was only too anxious for you to get away +before the police arrived. He was so afraid of anything +getting into the papers. I drove you back here, and, +as you still seemed stunned, I brought you up-stairs. +I didn't mean to stay, but I couldn't get you to say a +single coherent word. I was afraid to leave you +alone!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I was drunk," he said, in a dull tone. "I +remember filling my glass over and over again. There +is one thing, though," he added, his voice gaining a sudden +strength; "I was not drunk when I struck the +prince! I remember those few seconds very distinctly. +I saw everything, knew everything, felt everything. If +no one had interfered, I think I should have killed him!"</p> + +<p>"You were not drunk at all," she declared, with a +little shiver, "but you were in a state of terrible excitement. +It was a long time before I could get you to lie +down, and then you wouldn't close your eyes until I +came and sat by your side. I watched you go to sleep. +I hope you are not angry with me! I didn't like to go +and leave you."</p> + +<p>"How could I be angry?" he protested. "You are +far kinder to me than I deserve. I expect I should have +been in a police cell but for you!"</p> + +<p>"And now," she begged, coming over to him and +speaking in a more matter-of-fact tone, "do let us be +practical. I must run away, and you must go and +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 308]</span> +have a bath and change your clothes. Don't be +afraid of your reputation. I can get out by the other +entrance."</p> + +<p>He made no movement. She laid her hand on his +arm. In the sunlight, with a little patch of rouge still +left on her cheek, with her disordered hair and tired +eyes, she looked almost ghastly.</p> + +<p>"Remember," she whispered, "you have to go to see +Louise!"</p> + +<p>He covered his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"What's the use of it?" he groaned. "It's only +another turn of the screw!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish, John," she admonished briskly. +"You don't actually know anything yet—nothing at +all; at least, you are not sure of anything. And besides, +you strange, impossible person," she went on, +patting his hand, "don't you see that you must judge +her, not by the standards of your world, in which she +has never lived, but by the standards of her world, in +which she was born and bred? That is only fair, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>He made no answer. She watched him anxiously, +but there was no sign in his face.</p> + +<p>"Pull yourself together, John," she continued. +"Ring for some tea, get your bath, and then have it +out with Louise. Remember, life is a very big thing. +You are dealing this morning with all it may mean to +you."</p> + +<p>He rose listlessly to his feet. There was a strange, +dull look in his face.</p> + +<p>"You are a dear girl, Sophy!" he said. "Don't +go just yet. I have never felt like it before in my life, +but just now I don't want to be left alone. Send a boy +for some clothes, and I will order some tea."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 309]</span> +She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"My own reputation," she murmured, "is absolutely +of no consequence, but remember that you live +here, and—"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly!" he interrupted. "What does that +matter? And besides, according to you and all the +rest of you here, these things don't affect a man's reputation—they +are expected of him. See, I have rung +the bell for breakfast. Now I am going to telephone +down for a messenger-boy to go for your clothes."</p> + +<p>They breakfasted together, a little later, and she +made him smoke. He stood before the window, looking +down upon the river, with his pipe in his mouth and +an unfamiliar look upon his face.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose that Louise knows anything?" he +asked at length.</p> + +<p>"I should think not," she replied. "It is for you +to tell her. I rang up the prince's house while you +were in your bathroom. They say that he has a +broken rib and some bad cuts, sustained in a motor accident +last night, but that he is in no danger. There +was nothing about the affair in the newspapers, and the +prince's servants have evidently been instructed to give +this account to inquirers."</p> + +<p>A gleam of interest shone in John's face.</p> + +<p>"By the bye," he remarked, "the prince is a Frenchman. +He will very likely expect me to fight with him."</p> + +<p>"No hope of that, my belligerent friend," Sophy +declared, with an attempt at a smile. "The prince +knows that he is in England. He would not be guilty +of such an anachronism. Besides, he is a person of +wonderfully well-balanced mind. When he is himself +again, he will realize that what happened to him is exactly +what he asked for."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 310]</span> +John took up his hat and gloves. He glanced at the +clock—it was a little past eleven.</p> + +<p>"I am ready," he announced. "Let me drive you +home first."</p> + +<p>His motor was waiting at the door, and he left +Sophy at her rooms. Before she got out, she held his +arm for a moment.</p> + +<p>"John," she said, "remember that Louise is very +high-strung and very sensitive. Be careful!"</p> + +<p>"There is only one thing to do or to say," he answered. +"There is only one way in which I can do +it."</p> + +<p>He drove the car down Piccadilly like a man in a +dream, steering as carefully as usual through the traffic, +and glancing every now and then with unseeing +eyes at the streams of people upon the pavements. +Finally he came to a standstill before Louise's house +and stopped the engine with deliberate care. Then he +rang the bell, and was shown into her little drawing-room, +which seemed to have become a perfect bower of +pink and white lilac.</p> + +<p>He sat waiting as if in a dream, unable to decide +upon his words, unable even to sift his thoughts. The +one purpose with which he had come, the one question +he designed to ask, was burning in his brain. The +minutes of her absence seemed tragically long. He +walked up and down, oppressed by the perfume of the +flowers. The room seemed too small for him. He +longed to throw open all the windows, to escape from +the atmosphere, in which for the first time he seemed +to find some faint, enervating poison.</p> + +<p>Then at last the door opened and Louise entered. +She came toward him with a little welcoming smile upon +her lips. Her manner was gay, almost affectionate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 311]</span> +"Have you come to take me for a ride before +lunch?" she asked. "Do you know, I think that I +should really like it! We might lunch at Ranelagh on +our way home."</p> + +<p>The words stuck in his throat. From where she was, +she saw now the writing on his face. She stopped +short.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Ever since I knew you," he said slowly, "there +have been odd moments when I have lived in torture. +During the last fortnight, those moments have become +hours. Last night the end came."</p> + +<p>"Are you mad, John?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he replied. "Listen. When I left you +last night, I went to the club in Adelphi Terrace. +There was a well-known critic there, comparing you +and Latrobe. On the whole he favored you, but he +gave Latrobe the first place in certain parts. Latrobe, +he said, had had more experience of life. She had had +a dozen lovers—you, only one!"</p> + +<p>She winced. The glad freshness seemed suddenly to +fade from her face. Her eyes became strained.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I found Graillot. I cornered him. I asked him +for the truth about you. He put me off with an evasion. +I came down here and looked at your window. +It was three o'clock in the morning. I dared not come +in. A very demon of unrest was in my blood. I +stopped at a night-club on my way back. Sophy was +there. I asked her plainly to put me out of my agony. +She was like Graillot. She fenced with me. And then—the +prince came!"</p> + +<p>"The prince was there?" she faltered.</p> + +<p>"He came up to the table where Sophy and I were +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 312]</span> +sitting. I think I was half mad. I poured him a +glass of wine and asked him to drink with me. I told +him that you had promised to become my wife. He +raised his glass—I can see him now. He told me, with +a smile, that it was the anniversary of the day on which +you had promised to become his mistress!"</p> + +<p>Louise shrank back.</p> + +<p>"He told you that?"</p> + +<p>John was on his feet. The fever was blazing once +more.</p> + +<p>"He told me that, face to face—told me that it +was the anniversary of the day on which you had consented +to become his mistress!"</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>"If we had been alone," John answered simply, "I +should have killed him. I drove the words down his +throat. I threw him back to the place he had left, and +hurt him rather badly, I'm afraid. Sophy took me +home somehow, and now I am here."</p> + +<p>She leaned a little forward on the couch. She looked +into his face searchingly, anxiously, as if seeking for +something she could not find. His lips were set in +hard, cold lines. The likeness to Stephen had never +been more apparent.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" she said. "You are a Puritan. While +I admire the splendid self-restraint evolved from your +creed, it is partly temperamental, isn't it? I was +brought up to see things differently, and I do see them +differently. Tell me, do you love me?"</p> + +<p>The veins swelled for a moment upon his forehead, +stood out like whip-cord along the back of his hands, +but of softening there was no sign in his face.</p> + +<p>"Love you?" he repeated. "You know it! Could +I suffer the tortures of the damned if I didn't? Could +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 313]</span> +I come to you with a man's blood upon my hands if +I didn't? If the prince lives, it is simply the accident +of fate. I tell you that if we had been alone I should +have driven the breath out of his body. Love you!"</p> + +<p>She rose slowly to her feet. She leaned with her elbow +upon the mantelpiece, and her face was hidden +for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Let me think!" she said. "I don't know what to +say to you. I don't know you, John. There isn't +anything left of the John I loved. Let me look +again!"</p> + +<p>She swung around.</p> + +<p>"You speak of love," she went on suddenly. "Do +you know what it is? Do you know that loves reaches +to the heavens, and can also touch the nethermost +depths of hell? If I throw myself on my knees before +you now, if I link my fingers around your neck, if I +whisper to you that in the days that were past before +you came I had done things I would fain forget, +if I told you that from henceforth every second of my +life was yours, that my heart beat with yours by day +and by night, that I had no other thought, no other +dream, than to stay by your side, to see you happy, +to give all there was of myself into your keeping, to +keep it holy and sacred for you—John, what then?"</p> + +<p>Never a line in his face softened. He looked at her +a moment as he had looked at the woman in Piccadilly, +into whose hand he had dropped gold.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to tell me that it is the truth?" he +asked hoarsely.</p> + +<p>She stood quite still, her bosom rising and falling. +Even then she made one last effort. She held out her +hands with a little trembling gesture, her eyes filled +with tears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 314]</span> +"Think for a single moment of that feeling which +you call love, John!" she pleaded. "Listen! I love +you. It has come to me at last, after all these years. +It lives in my heart, a greater thing than my ambition, +a greater thing than my success, a greater thing +than life itself. I love you, John. Can't you feel, +don't you know, that nothing else in life can matter?"</p> + +<p>Not a line in his face softened. His teeth had come +together. He was like a man upon the rack.</p> + +<p>"It is true? It is true, then?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>She looked at him without any reply. The seconds +seemed drawn out to an interminable period. He +heard the rolling of the motor-buses in the street. Once +more the perfume of the lilacs seemed to choke him. +Then she leaned back and touched the bell.</p> + +<p>"The prince spoke the truth," she said. "I think +you had better go!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 315]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXVII</h2> + +<p>Before the wide-flung window of her attic bedchamber, +Sophy Gerard was crouching with her face turned +westward. She had abandoned all effort to sleep. +The one thought that was beating in her brain was +too insistent, too clamorous. Somewhere beyond that +tangled mass of chimneys and telegraph-poles, somewhere +on the other side of the gray haze which hung +about the myriad roofs, John and Louise were working +out their destiny, speaking at last the naked truth to +each other.</p> + +<p>Somehow or other, during those few minutes every +thought of herself and her own life seemed to have +passed away. John's face seemed always before her—the +sudden, hard lines about his mouth; the dull, +smoldering pain in his eyes. How would he return? +Louise had guarded the secret of her life so well. +Would he wrest it from her, or—</p> + +<p>She started suddenly back into the room. There +was a knocking at the door, something quite different +from her landlady's summons. She wrapped her dressing-gown +around her, pulled the curtains around the +little bed on which she had striven to rest, and moved +toward the door. She turned the handle softly.</p> + +<p>"Who is that?" she asked.</p> + +<p>John almost pushed his way past her. She closed +the door with nerveless fingers. Her eyes sought his +face, her lips were parted. She clung to the back of +the chair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 316]</span> +"You have seen Louise?" she exclaimed breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"I have seen Louise," he answered. "It is all +over!"</p> + +<p>She looked a little helplessly around her. Then she +selected the one chair in the tiny apartment that was +likely to hold him, and led him to it.</p> + +<p>"Please sit down," she begged, "and tell me about +it. You mustn't despair like this all at once. I wonder +if I could help!"</p> + +<p>"No one can help," he told her grimly. "It is all +finished and done with. I would rather not talk any +more about it. I didn't come here to talk about it. +I came to see you. So this is where you live!"</p> + +<p>He looked around him, and for a moment he almost +forgot the pain which was gnawing at his heart. It +was such a simple, plainly furnished little room, so +clean, so neat, so pathetically eloquent of poverty. +She drew closer together the curtains which concealed +her little chintz-covered bed, and came and sat down by +his side.</p> + +<p>"You know, you are rather a silly person," she whispered +soothingly. "Wait for a time and perhaps +things will look different. I know that Louise cares. +Isn't that the great thing, after all?"</p> + +<p>"I would like not to talk about it any more," said +John. "Just now I cannot put what I feel into words. +What remains is just this: I have been a fool, a sort +of <i>Don Quixote</i>, building castles in Spain and believing +that real men and women could live in them. I +have expected the impossible in life. It is perhaps a +good thing that I can see the truth now. I am going +to climb down!"</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands tighter around his arm. Her +eyes sought his anxiously.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 317]</span> +"But you mustn't climb down, John," she insisted. +"You are so much nicer where you are, so much too +good for the silly, ugly things. You must fight this in +your own way, fight it according to your own standards. +You are too good to come down—"</p> + +<p>"Am I too good for you, Sophy?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him, and her whole face seemed to +soften. The light in her blue eyes was sweet and wistful. +A bewildering little smile curled her lips.</p> + +<p>"Don't be stupid!" she begged. "A few minutes +ago I was looking out of my window and thinking what +a poor little morsel of humanity I am, and what a useless, +drifting life I have led. But that's foolish. +Come now! What I want to persuade you to do is to +go back to Cumberland for a time, and try hard—very +hard indeed—to realize what it means to be a +woman like Louise, with her temperament, her intense +intellectual curiosity, her charm. Nothing could make +Louise different from what she is—a dear, sweet woman +and a great artist. And, John, I believe she loves +you!"</p> + +<p>His face remained undisturbed even by the flicker of +an eyelid.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he said, "I have decided to go abroad. +Will you come with me?"</p> + +<p>She sat quite still. Again her face was momentarily +transformed. All its pallor and fatigue seemed to have +vanished. Her head had fallen a little back. She +was looking through the ceiling into heaven. Then the +light died away almost as quickly as it had come. Her +lips shook tremulously.</p> + +<p>"You know you don't mean it, John! You wouldn't +take me. And if you did, you'd hate me afterward—you'd +want to send me back!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 318]</span> +He suddenly drew her to him, his arm went around +her waist. She had lost all power of resistance. For +the first time in his life of his own deliberate accord, he +kissed her—feverishly, almost roughly.</p> + +<p>"Sophy," he declared, "I have been a fool! I have +come an awful cropper, but you might help me with +what's left. I am going to start afresh. I am going +to get rid of some of these ideas of mine which +have brought me nothing but misery and disappointment. +I don't want to live up to them any longer. I +want to just forget them. I want to live as other men +live—just the simple, ordinary life. Come with me! +I'll take you to the places we've talked about together. +I am always happy and contented with you. Let's try +it!"</p> + +<p>Her arms stole around his neck.</p> + +<p>"If only you cared, John!" she sobbed.</p> + +<p>"But I do," he insisted. "I love to have you with +me, I love to see you happy, I shall love to give you +pretty things. I shall be proud of you, soothed by you—and +rested. What do you say, Sophy?"</p> + +<p>"John," she whispered, hiding her face for a moment. +"What can I say? What could any poor, +weak, little creature like me say? You know I am +fond of you—I haven't had the pride, even, to conceal +it!"</p> + +<p>He stood up, held her face for a moment between his +hands, and kissed her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Then that's all settled," he declared. "I am going +back to my rooms now. I want you to come and +dine with me there to-night, at eight o'clock."</p> + +<p>Her eyes sought his, pleaded with them, searched +them.</p> + +<p>"You are sure, John?" she asked, her voice a little +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 319]</span> +broken. "You want me really? I am to come? You +won't be sorry—afterward?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure," he answered steadfastly. "I shall expect +you at eight o'clock!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>John went back to his rooms fighting all the time +against a sense of unreality, a sense almost of lost identity. +He bought an evening newspaper and read it on +the way. He talked to the hall-porter, he talked to +a neighbor with whom he ascended in the lift—he did +everything except think.</p> + +<p>In his rooms he telephoned to the restaurant for a +waiter, and with the menu in his hand, a few minutes +later, he ordered dinner. Then he glanced at his watch—it +was barely seven o'clock. He went down to the +barber-shop, was shaved and had his hair cut, encouraging +the barber all the time to talk to him. He gave +his hands over to a manicure, and did his best to talk +nonsense to her. Then he came up-stairs again, +changed his clothes with great care, and went into his +little sitting room.</p> + +<p>It was five minutes to eight, and dinner had been +laid at a little round table in the center of the room. +There was a bowl of pink roses—Sophy's favorite +flower—sent in from the florist's; the table was lighted +by a pink-shaded lamp. John went around the room, +turning out the other lights, until the apartment was +hung with shadows save for the little spot of color in +the middle. An unopened bottle of champagne stood +in an ice-pail, and two specially prepared cocktails had +been placed upon the little side-table. There were no +more preparations to be made.</p> + +<p>John walked restlessly to the window and gazed at +the curving line of lights along the Embankment. This +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 320]</span> +was the end, then—the end of his strenuous days, +the end of his ideals, the end of a love-story which had +made life for a time seem so wonderful! He could hear +them talking about him in a few days' time—the +prince's subtle sneer, the jests of his acquaintances. +And Louise! His heart stopped for a moment as he +tried to think of her face when she heard the news.</p> + +<p>He turned impatiently away from the window and +glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. He tried +to imagine that the bell was ringing, that Sophy was +standing there on the threshold in her simple but dainty +evening dress, with a little smile parting her lips. The +end of it all! He pulled down the blind. No more of +the window, no more looking out at the lights, no more +living in the clouds! It was time, indeed, that he lived +as other men. He lifted one of the glasses to his lips +and drained its contents.</p> + +<p>Then the bell rang. He moved forward to answer +its summons with beating heart. As he opened it, he +received a shock. A messenger-boy stood outside. +He took the note which the boy handed him and +tore it open under the lamp. There were only a few +lines:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>John, my heart is breaking, but I know you do not mean +what you said. I know it was only a moment of madness +with you. I know you will love Louise all your life, and +will bless me all your life because I am giving up the one +thing which could make my life a paradise. I shall be in the +train when you read this, on my way to Bath. I have wired +my young man, as you call him, to meet me. I am going to +ask him to marry me, if he will, next week.</p> + +<p>Good-by! I give you no advice. Some day I think that +life will right itself with you.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Sophy.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 321]</span> +The letter dropped upon the table. John stood for +a moment dazed. Suddenly he began to laugh. Then +he remembered the messenger-boy, gave him half a +crown, and closed the door. He came back into the +room and took his place at the table. He looked at +the empty chair by his side, looked at the full glass on +the sideboard. It seemed to him that he was past all +sensations. The waiter came in silently.</p> + +<p>"You can serve the dinner," John ordered, shaking +out his napkin. "Open the champagne before you go."</p> + +<p>"You will be alone, sir?" the man inquired.</p> + +<p>"I shall be alone," John answered.</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 322]</span></p> + +<h2>XXXVIII</h2> + +<p>It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the +green logs that burned on the open hearth, and for +the slow movements of Jennings as he cleared the table. +Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper by +his side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. +Opposite to him, almost as grim, equally silent, sat +John.</p> + +<p>"Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, +John?" Stephen asked at last.</p> + +<p>"There was nothing doing," was the brief reply.</p> + +<p>That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, +was the sole attempt at conversation between the two +brothers. Then Jennings appeared with a decanter +of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. +Stephen held his up to the light and looked at it critically. +John's remained by his side, unnoticed.</p> + +<p>"A glass for yourself, Jennings," Stephen ordered.</p> + +<p>"I thank ye kindly, sir," the old man replied.</p> + +<p>He fetched a glass from the sideboard, filled it, and +held it respectfully before him.</p> + +<p>"It's the old toast," Stephen said glumly. "You +know it!"</p> + +<p>"Aye, Master Stephen!" the servant assented. +"We've drunk it together for many a long year. I +give it ye now with all my heart—confusion to all +women!"</p> + +<p>They both glanced toward John, who showed no signs +of movement. Then they drank together, the older +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 323]</span> +man and his servant. Still John never moved. Jennings +drained his glass, placed the decanter by his master's +side, and withdrew.</p> + +<p>"So the poison's still there, brother?" Stephen +asked.</p> + +<p>"And will be so long as I live," John confessed +gloomily. "For all that, I'll not drink your toast."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"There was a little girl—you saw her when you +were in London. She is married now, but I think of +her sometimes; and when I do, you and old Jennings +seem to me like a couple of blithering idiots cursing +things too wonderful for you to understand!"</p> + +<p>Stephen made no protest. For a time he smoked in +silence. Curiously enough, as they sat there together, +some of the grim fierceness seemed to have passed from +his expression and settled upon John. More than once, +as he looked across at his younger brother, it almost +seemed as if there was something of self-reproach in +his questioning look.</p> + +<p>"You dined at the ordinary in Market Ketton?" +Stephen asked at last.</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"Then you heard the news?"</p> + +<p>"Who could help it?" John muttered. "There +wasn't much else talked about."</p> + +<p>"Bailiff Henderson has been over here," Stephen +went on. "There's a small army of painters and decorators +coming down to the castle next week. You saw +the announcement of the wedding in the <i>Morning Post</i>, +maybe?"</p> + +<p>John assented without words. Stephen smoked +vigorously for a few moments. Every now and then +he glanced across to where John was sitting. Once +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 324]</span> +again the uneasiness was in his eyes, an uneasiness +which was almost self-reproach.</p> + +<p>"You mind what I called her once, John—a witch-woman? +She is that, right enough. This marriage +of hers proves it. Although he is half a Frenchman, +the Prince of Seyre is the greatest landowner in the +county. He is the worst landlord, maybe, but the +blood's there. He is a man who has lived among women +all his life. He should know something about them, +and be proof against their wiles. Yet he's going to +marry her next Thursday!"</p> + +<p>John moved a little restlessly in his chair.</p> + +<p>"Let's drop it, Stephen," he begged. "We both +know the facts. She is going to marry him, and that's +the end of it. Fill your glass up again. Here's mine +untouched. I'll drink your toast with you, if you'll +leave out the little girl who was kind to me. I'll give it +to you myself—confusion to all women!"</p> + +<p>"Confusion to—" Stephen began. "What on earth +is that?"</p> + +<p>They both heard it at the same time—the faint +beating of a motor-engine in the distance. John set +down his glass. There was a strange look in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"There are more cars passing along the road now +than in the old days," he muttered; "but that's a queer +sound. It reminds one—good Heavens, how it reminds +one!"</p> + +<p>There was a look of agony in his face for a moment. +Then once more he raised his glass to his lips.</p> + +<p>"It's passed out of hearing," Stephen said. "It's +some one on the way to the castle, maybe."</p> + +<p>Still their glasses remained suspended in mid air. +The little garden gate had opened and closed with a +click; there were footsteps upon the flinty walk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 325]</span> +"It's some one coming here!" John cried hoarsely. +"Why can't they keep away? It's two years ago this +week since I brought her up the drive and you met us +at the front door. Two years ago, Stephen! Who +can it be?"</p> + +<p>They heard the front door open, they heard Jenning's +voice raised in unusual and indignant protest. +Then their own door was suddenly flung wide, and a +miracle happened. John's glass slipped from his fingers, +and the wine streamed out across the carpet. He +shrank back, gripping the tablecloth. Stephen turned +his head, and sat as if turned to stone.</p> + +<p>"John!"</p> + +<p>She was coming toward him exactly as he had +dreamed of her so many times, her hands outstretched, +her lips quivering, with that sweet look in her face +which had dwelt there once for a few days—just a few +days of her life.</p> + +<p>"John," she faltered, "it isn't the car this time—it +is I who have broken down! I cannot go on. I +have no pride left. I have come to you. Will you +help me?"</p> + +<p>He found himself upon his feet. Stephen, too, had +risen. She stood between the two men, and glanced +from one to the other. Then she looked more closely +into John's face, peering forward with a little start of +pain, and her eyes were filled with tears.</p> + +<p>"John," she cried, "forgive me! You were so cruel +that morning, and you seemed to understand so little. +Don't you really understand, even now? Have you +ever known the truth, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"The truth!" he echoed hoarsely. "Don't we all +know that? Don't we all know that he is to give you +your rights, that you are coming—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 326]</span> +"Stop!" she ordered him.</p> + +<p>He obeyed, and for a moment there was silence—a +tense, strained silence.</p> + +<p>"John," she continued at last, "I have no rights +to receive from the Prince of Seyre. He owes me nothing. +Listen! Always we have seen life differently, +you and I. To me there is only one great thing, and +that is love; and beyond that nothing counts. I tried +to love the prince before you came, and I thought I +did, and I promised him at last what you know, because +I believed that he loved me and that I loved him, +and that if so it was his right. Look down the road, +John! On that night I was on my way to the castle, +to give myself to him; but I broke down, and in the +morning the world was all different, and I went back +to London. It has been different ever since, and there +has never been any question of anything between +the prince and me, because I knew that it was not +love."</p> + +<p>John was shaking in every limb. His eyes were filled +with fierce questioning. Stephen sat there, and there +was wonder in his face, too.</p> + +<p>"When you came to me that morning," she went +on, "you spoke to me in a strange tongue. I couldn't +understand you, you seemed so far away. I wanted to +tell you the whole truth, but I didn't. Perhaps I wasn't +sure—perhaps it seemed to me that it was best for +me to forget, if ever I had cared, for the ways of our +lives seemed so far apart. You went away, and I +drifted on; but it wasn't true that I ever promised to +marry the prince. No one had any right to put that +paragraph in the newspaper!"</p> + +<p>"But what are you doing here, then?" John asked +hoarsely. "Aren't you on your way to the castle?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 327]</span> +She came a little nearer still; her arms went around +his neck.</p> + +<p>"You dear stupid!" she cried. "Haven't I told +you? I've tried to do without you, and I can't. I've +come for you. Come outside, please! It's quite light. +The moon's coming over the hills. I want to walk up +the orchard. I want to hear just what I've come to +hear!"</p> + +<p>He passed out of the room in a dream, under the +blossom-laden boughs of the orchard, and up the hillside +toward the church. The dream passed, but +Louise remained, flesh and blood. Her lips were warm +and her arms held him almost feverishly.</p> + +<p>"In that little church, John, and quickly—so +quickly, please!" she whispered.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Jennings hastened in to where Stephen was sitting +alone.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stephen," he cried, "what's coming to us? +There's that French hussy outside, and a motor-car +in the drive, and the chauffeur's asking where he's to +sleep. The woman wants to know whether she can +have the same bedroom for her mistress as last time!"</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you go and see about it, you +old fool?" Stephen replied. "Pick up those pieces +of glass there, lay the cloth, and get some supper +ready."</p> + +<p>Jennings gazed at his master, dumbfounded. No +power of speech remained to him.</p> + +<p>Through the open doorway they heard Aline's voice +in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Meester Jennings, will you please come and help +me with the luggage?"</p> + +<p>"Get along with you!" Stephen ordered. "You'd +<span class="pagenum">[Pg 328]</span> +better hurry up with the supper, too. The boy Tom +can see to the luggage."</p> + +<p>The old man recovered himself slowly.</p> + +<p>"You're taking 'em in, sir—taking 'em into the +house?" he gasped. "What about that toast?"</p> + +<p>Stephen refilled two glasses.</p> + +<p>"We'd better alter it a little," he declared. "Here's +confusion to most women, but luck to John and his +wife!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. John and his wife!" Jennings repeated, as he +set his glass down empty. "I'll just see that them +sheets is aired up-stairs, sir, or that hussy will be making +eyes at Tom!"</p> + +<p>He departed, and Stephen was left alone. He sat +and listened to the sound of luggage being taken upstairs, +to Aline's little torrent of directions, good-humored +but profuse, to the sound of preparations in the +kitchen. In the room the tall clock ticked solemnly; +a fragment of the log every now and then fell upon the +hearth.</p> + +<p>Presently he rose to his feet. He heard the click +of the garden gate, the sound of John and Louise returning. +He rose and stood ready to welcome them.</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<h2>Popular Copyright Novels</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>AT MODERATE PRICES</i></p> + +<p class="center">Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of<br /> +A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="noindent"><b>Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The.</b> By Frank L. Packard.<br /> +<b>Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<br /> +<b>Affinities, and Other Stories.</b> By Mary Roberts Rinehart.<br /> +<b>After House, The.</b> By Mary Roberts Rinehart.<br /> +<b>Against the Winds.</b> By Kate Jordan.<br /> +<b>Ailsa Paige.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Also Ran.</b> By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds.<br /> +<b>Amateur Gentleman, The.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.<br /> +<b>Anderson Crow, Detective.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<br /> +<b>Anna, the Adventuress.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>Anne's House of Dreams.</b> By L. M. Montgomery.<br /> +<b>Anybody But Anne.</b> By Carolyn Wells.<br /> +<b>Are All Men Alike, and The Lost Titian.</b> By Arthur Stringer.<br /> +<b>Around Old Chester.</b> By Margaret Deland.<br /> +<b>Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist.</b> By John T. McIntyre.<br /> +<b>Ashton-Kirk, Investigator.</b> By John T. McIntyre.<br /> +<b>Ashton-Kirk, Secret Agent.</b> By John T. McIntyre.<br /> +<b>Ashton-Kirk, Special Detective.</b> By John T. McIntyre.<br /> +<b>Athalie.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>At the Mercy of Tiberius.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.<br /> +<b>Auction Block, The.</b> By Rex Beach.<br /> +<b>Aunt Jane of Kentucky.</b> By Eliza C. Hall.<br /> +<b>Awakening of Helena Richie.</b> By Margaret Deland.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><b>Bab: a Sub-Deb.</b> By Mary Roberts Rinehart.<br /> +<b>Bambi.</b> By Marjorie Benton Cooke.<br /> +<b>Barbarians.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Bar 20.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<br /> +<b>Bar 20 Days.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<br /> +<b>Barrier, The.</b> By Rex Beach.<br /> +<b>Bars of Iron, The.</b> By Ethel M. Dell.<br /> +<b>Beasts of Tarzan, The.</b> By Edgar Rice Burroughs.<br /> +<b>Beckoning Roads.</b> By Jeanne Judson.<br /> +<b>Belonging.</b> By Olive Wadsley.<br /> +<b>Beloved Traitor, The.</b> By Frank L. Packard.<br /> +<b>Beloved Vagabond, The.</b> By Wm. J. Locke.<br /> +<b>Beltane the Smith.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.<br /> +<b>Betrayal, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>Beulah.</b> (III. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans.<br /> +<b>Beyond the Frontier.</b> By Randall Parrish.<br /> +<b>Big Timber.</b> By Bertrand W. Sinclair.<br /> +<b>Black Bartlemy's Treasure.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.<br /> +<b>Black Is White.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<br /> +<b>Blacksheep! Blacksheep!.</b> By Meredith Nicholson.<br /> +<b>Blind Man's Eyes, The.</b> By Wm. Mac Harg and Edwin Balmer.<br /> +<b>Boardwalk, The.</b> By Margaret Widdemer.<br /> +<b>Bob Hampton of Placer.</b> By Randall Parrish.<br /> +<b>Bob, Son of Battle.</b> By Alfred Olivant.<br /> +<b>Box With Broken Seals, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>Boy With Wings, The.</b> By Berta Ruck.<br /> +<b>Brandon of the Engineers.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<br /> +<b>Bridge of Kisses, The.</b> By Berta Ruck.<br /> +<b>Broad Highway, The.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.<br /> +<b>Broadway Bab.</b> By Johnston McCulley.<br /> +<b>Brown Study, The.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<br /> +<b>Bruce of the Circle A.</b> By Harold Titus.<br /> +<b>Buccaneer Farmer, The.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<br /> +<b>Buck Peters, Ranchman.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<br /> +<b>Builders, The.</b> By Ellen Glasgow.<br /> +<b>Business of Life, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><b>Cab of the Sleeping Horse, The.</b> By John Reed Scott.<br /> +<b>Cabbage and Kings.</b> By O. Henry.<br /> +<b>Cabin Fever.</b> By B. M. Bower.<br /> +<b>Calling of Dan Matthews, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.<br /> +<b>Cape Cod Stories.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<br /> +<b>Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper.</b> By James A. Cooper.<br /> +<b>Cap'n Dan's Daughter.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<br /> +<b>Cap'n Erl.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<br /> +<b>Cap'n Jonah's Fortune.</b> By James A. Cooper.<br /> +<b>Cap'n Warren's Wards.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<br /> +<b>Chinese Label, The.</b> By J. Frank Davis.<br /> +<b>Christine of the Young Heart.</b> By Louise Breintenbach Clancy.<br /> +<b>Cinderella Jane.</b> By Marjorie B. Cooke.<br /> +<b>Cinema Murder, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>City of Masks, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<br /> +<b>Cleek of Scotland Yard.</b> By T. W. Hanshew.<br /> +<b>Cleek, The Man of Forty Faces.</b> By Thomas W. Hanshew.<br /> +<b>Cleek's Government Cases.</b> By Thomas W. Hanshew.<br /> +<b>Clipped Wings.</b> By Rupert Hughes.<br /> +<b>Clutch of Circumstance, The.</b> By Marjorie Benton Cooke.<br /> +<b>Coast of Adventure, The.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<br /> +<b>Come-Back, The.</b> By Carolyn Wells.<br /> +<b>Coming of Cassidy, The.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.<br /> +<b>Coming of the Law, The.</b> By Charles A. Seltzer.<br /> +<b>Comrades of Peril.</b> By Randall Parrish.<br /> +<b>Conquest of Canaan, The.</b> By Booth Tarkington.<br /> +<b>Conspirators, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Contraband.</b> By Randall Parrish.<br /> +<b>Cottage of Delight, The.</b> By Will N. Harben.<br /> +<b>Court of Inquiry, A.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.<br /> +<b>Cricket, The.</b> By Marjorie Benton Cooke.<br /> +<b>Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure.</b> By Rex Beach.<br /> +<b>Crimson Tide, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Cross Currents.</b> By Author of "Pollyanna."<br /> +<b>Cross Pull, The.</b> By Hal. G. Evarts.<br /> +<b>Cry in the Wilderness, A.</b> By Mary E. Waller.<br /> +<b>Cry of Youth, A.</b> By Cynthia Lombardi.<br /> +<b>Cup of Fury, The.</b> By Rupert Hughes.<br /> +<b>Curious Quest, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><b>Danger and Other Stories.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.<br /> +<b>Dark Hollow, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.<br /> +<b>Dark Star, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Daughter Pays, The.</b> By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds.<br /> +<b>Day of Days, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.<br /> +<b>Depot Master, The.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<br /> +<b>Destroying Angel, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.<br /> +<b>Devil's Own, The.</b> By Randall Parrish.<br /> +<b>Devil's Paw, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>Disturbing Charm, The.</b> By Berta Ruck.<br /> +<b>Door of Dread, The.</b> By Arthur Stringer.<br /> +<b>Dope.</b> By Sax Rohmer.<br /> +<b>Double Traitor, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>Duds.</b> By Henry C. Rowland.<br /> +<b>Empty Pockets.</b> By Rupert Hughes.<br /> +<b>Erskine Dale Pioneer.</b> By John Fox, Jr.<br /> +<b>Everyman's Land.</b> By C. N. & A. M. Williamson.<br /> +<b>Extricating Obadiah.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.<br /> +<b>Eyes of the Blind, The.</b> By Arthur Somers Roche.<br /> +<b>Eyes of the World, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><b>Fairfax and His Pride.</b> By Marie Van Vorst.<br /> +<b>Felix O'Day.</b> By F. Hopkinson Smith.<br /> +<b>54-40 or Fight.</b> By Emerson Hough.<br /> +<b>Fighting Chance, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Fighting Fool, The.</b> By Dane Coolidge.<br /> +<b>Fighting Shepherdess, The.</b> By Caroline Lockhart.<br /> +<b>Financier, The.</b> By Theodore Dreiser.<br /> +<b>Find the Woman.</b> By Arthur Somers Roche.<br /> +<b>First Sir Percy, The.</b> By The Baroness Orczy.<br /> +<b>Flame, The.</b> By Olive Wadsley.<br /> +<b>For Better, for Worse.</b> By W. B. Maxwell.<br /> +<b>Forbidden Trail, The.</b> By Honorè Willsie.<br /> +<b>Forfeit, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.<br /> +<b>Fortieth Door, The.</b> By Mary Hastings Bradley.<br /> +<b>Four Million, The.</b> By O. Henry.<br /> +<b>From Now On.</b> By Frank L. Packard.<br /> +<b>Fur Bringers, The.</b> By Hulbert Footner.<br /> +<b>Further Adventures of Jimmie Dale.</b> By Frank L. Packard.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><b>Get Your Man.</b> By Ethel and James Dorrance.<br /> +<b>Girl in the Mirror, The.</b> By Elizabeth Jordan.<br /> +<b>Girl of O. K. Valley, The.</b> By Robert Watson.<br /> +<b>Girl of the Blue Ridge, A.</b> By Payne Erskine.<br /> +<b>Girl from Keller's, The.</b> By Harold Bindloss.<br /> +<b>Girl Philippa, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.<br /> +<b>Girls at His Billet, The.</b> By Berta Ruck.<br /> +<b>Glory Rides the Range.</b> By Ethel and James Dorrance.<br /> +<b>Gloved Hand, The.</b> By Burton E. Stevenson.<br /> +<b>God's Country and the Woman.</b> By James Oliver Curwood.<br /> +<b>God's Good Man.</b> By Marie Corelli.<br /> +<b>Going Some.</b> By Rex Beach.<br /> +<b>Gold Girl, The.</b> By James B. Hendryx.<br /> +<b>Golden Scorpion, The.</b> By Sax Rohmer.<br /> +</p> + +<hr class="hr2"/> + +<div id="tnote"> +<p class="center"><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></p> + +<p>Errors in punctuations were not corrected unless otherwise noted +below:</p> + +<p>On page 5, "unforgetable" was replaced with "unforgettable".</p> + +<p>On page 51, the comma after "more time here" was replaced with a period.</p> + +<p>On page 81, "confesed" was replaced with "confessed".</p> + +<p>On page 97, "he said." was replaced with "she said.".</p> + +<p>On page 132, "Gaillot" was replaced with "Graillot".</p> + +<p>On page 241, "carefullly" was replaced with "carefully".</p> + +<p>On page 269, "tast" was replaced with "taste".</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hillman, by E. 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Phillips Oppenheim + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Hillman + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + +Illustrator: George Avison + +Release Date: October 5, 2010 [EBook #34035] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HILLMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Siobhan Hillman, D Alexander, Ernest Schaal, +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + THE HILLMAN + + + + + [Illustration: What followed came like a thunder-clap. + FRONTISPIECE. _See page 304._] + + + + + The Hillman + + + By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + + + Author of "The Kingdom of The Blind" + "Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo," Etc. + + + [Illustration] + + + WITH FRONTISPIECE + By GEORGE AVISON + + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + Publishers New York + Published by Arrangement with LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY + + + + + _Copyright, 1917_, + BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + _All rights reserved_ + + Published, January, 1917 + Reprinted, January, 1917 (twice) + February, 1917 (twice) + March, 1917; April, 1917 + + + + + THE HILLMAN + + I + + +Louise, self-engrossed, and with a pleasant sense of detachment from the +prospective inconveniences of the moment, was leaning back among the +cushions of the motionless car. Her eyes, lifted upward, traveled past +the dimly lit hillside, with its patchwork of wall-enclosed fields, up +to where the leaning clouds and the unseen heights met in a misty sea of +obscurity. + +The moon had not yet risen, but a faint and luminous glow, spreading +like a halo about the topmost peak of that ragged line of hills, +heralded its approach. Louise sat with clasped hands, rapt and engrossed +in the esthetic appreciation of a beauty which found its way but seldom +into her town-enslaved life. She listened to the sound of a distant +sheepbell. Her eyes swept the hillsides, vainly yet without curiosity, +for any sign of a human dwelling. The voices of her chauffeur and her +maid, who stood talking heatedly together by the bonnet of the car, +seemed to belong to another world. She had the air of one completely yet +pleasantly detached from all material surroundings. + +The maid, leaving her discomfited companion with a final burst of +reproaches, came to the side of the car. Her voice, when she addressed +her mistress, sank to a lower key, but her eyes still flashed with +anger. + +"But would _madame_ believe it?" she exclaimed. "It is incredible! The +man Charles there, who calls himself a chauffeur of experience, declares +that we are what he calls 'hung up'! Something unexpected has happened +to the magneto. There is no spark. Whose fault can that be, I ask, but +the chauffeur's? And such a desert we have reached! We have searched the +map together. We are thirty miles from any town, many miles from even a +village. What a misfortune!" + +Louise turned her head regretfully away from the mysterious spaces. She +listened patiently, but without any sort of emotion, to her maid's flow +of distressed words. She even smiled very faintly when the girl had +finished. + +"Something will happen," she remarked indifferently. "There is no need +for you to distress yourself. There must be a farmhouse or shelter of +some sort near. If the worst comes to the worst, we can spend the night +in the car. We have plenty of furs and rugs. You are not a good +traveler, Aline. You lose heart too soon." + +The girl's face was a study. + +"_Madame_ speaks of spending the night in the car!" she exclaimed. "Why, +one has not eaten since luncheon, and of all the country through which +we have passed, this is the loneliest and dreariest spot." + +Louise leaned forward and called to the chauffeur. + +"Charles," she asked, "what has happened? Are we really stranded here?" + +The man's head emerged from the bonnet. He came round to the side of the +car. + +"I am very sorry, madam," he reported, "but something has gone wrong +with the magneto. I shall have to take it to pieces before I can tell +exactly what is wrong. At present I can't get a spark of any sort." + +"There is no hope of any immediate repair, then?" + +The chauffeur shook his head dolefully. + +"I shall have to take the magneto down, madam," he said. "It will take +several hours, and it ought to be done by daylight." + +"And in the meantime, what do you suggest that we do?" she asked. + +The man looked a little helpless. His battle of words with Aline had +depressed him. + +"I heard a dog bark a little while ago," he remarked. "Perhaps I had +better go and see whether there isn't a farm somewhere near." + +"And leave us here alone?" Aline exclaimed indignantly. "It is a good +suggestion. It comes well from the man who has got us into such +trouble!" + +Her mistress smiled at her reassuringly. + +"What have we to fear, you foolish girl? For myself, I would like better +than anything to remain here until the moon comes over the top of that +round hill. But listen! It is just as I told you. There is no necessity +for Charles to leave us." + +They all turned their heads. From some distance behind on the hard, +narrow road, curling like a piece of white tape around the hillside, +there came, faintly at first, but more distinctly every moment, the +sound of horse's hoofs. + +"It is as I told you," Louise said composedly. "Some one approaches--on +horseback, too. He will be able to fetch assistance." + +The chauffeur walked back a few yards, prepared to give early warning to +the approaching horseman. The two women, standing up in the car, watched +the spot where the road, hidden for some time in the valley, came into +sight. + +Louder and louder came the sound of the beating of hoofs. Louise gave a +little cry as a man on horseback appeared in sight at the crest of the +hill. The narrow strip of road seemed suddenly dwarfed, an unreasonable +portion of the horizon blotted out. In the half light there was +something almost awesome in the unusual size of the horse and of the man +who rode it. + +"It is a world of goblins, this, Aline!" her mistress exclaimed softly. +"What is it that comes?" + +"It is a human being, _Dieu merci_!" the maid replied, with a +matter-of-fact little sigh of content. + +Conscious of the obstruction in the road, the rider slackened his speed. +His horse, a great, dark-colored animal, pricked up his ears when +scarcely a dozen yards away from the car, stopped short, and suddenly +bolted out on the open moor. There was the sound of a heavy whip, a +loud, masterful voice, and a very brief struggle, during which the horse +once plunged and reared so high that Louise, watching, cried out in +fear. A few moments later, however, horse and rider, the former +quivering and subdued, were beside the car. + +"Has anything happened?" the newcomer asked, raising his whip to his +hat. + +He addressed Louise, instinctively conscious, even in that dim light, +that she was the person in authority. + +She did not at once reply. Her eyes were fixed upon the face of her +questioner. There was little enough of him to be seen, yet she was aware +of an exceptional interest in his dimly revealed personality. He was +young, unusually tall, and his voice was cultivated. Beyond that, she +could see or divine nothing. + +He, for his part, with his attention still largely engaged in keeping +his horse under control, yet knew, in those first few moments, that he +was looking into the face of a woman who had no kinship with the world +in which he had been born and had lived his days. Those were fugitive +thoughts which passed between them, only half conceived, yet strong +enough to remain as first and unforgettable impressions. Then the +commonplace interests of the situation became insistent. + +"I have broken down," Louise said. "My chauffeur tells me that it will +take hours to effect some necessary repair to the car. And +meanwhile--here we are!" + +"You couldn't have chosen a worse place for a breakdown," the young man +observed. "You are miles away from anywhere." + +"You are indeed a comforter!" Louise murmured. "Do you think that you +could possibly get down and advise us what to do? You look so far away +up there." + +There was another brief struggle between the man and his still +frightened horse. Then the former swung himself down, and, with the +bridle through his arm, came and stood by the car. + +"If there is any way in which I can help," he ventured, "I am quite at +your service." + +Louise smiled at him. She remained unoppressed by any fear of +inconvenience or hardship. She had the air of one rather enjoying her +plight. + +"Well, you have begun very nicely by doing what I asked you," she said. +"Really, you know, to an impressionable person there was something +rather terrifying about you when you appeared suddenly from out of the +shadows in such a lonely place. I was beginning to wonder whether you +were altogether real, whether one of those black hills there had not +opened to let you out. You see, I know something of the legends of your +country, although I have never been here before." + +The young man was less at his ease. He stood tapping his boot nervously +with his long riding-whip. + +"I am sorry if I frightened you," he said. "My horse is a little +restive, and the acetylene light which your chauffeur turned on him was +sufficiently alarming." + +"You did not exactly frighten me," she assured him, "but you looked so +abnormally large. Please tell us what you would advise us to do. Is +there a village near, or an inn, or even a barn? Or shall we have to +spend the night in the car?" + +"The nearest village," he replied, "is twelve miles away. Fortunately, +my own home is close by. I shall be very pleased--I and my brother--if +you will honor us. I am afraid I cannot offer you very much in the way +of entertainment--" + +She rose briskly to her feet and beamed upon him. + +"You are indeed a good Samaritan!" she exclaimed. "A roof is more than +we had dared to hope for, although when one looks up at this wonderful +sky and breathes this air, one wonders, perhaps, whether a roof, after +all, is such a blessing." + +"It gets very cold toward morning," the young man said practically. + +"Of course," she assented. "Aline, you will bring my dressing-bag and +follow us. This gentleman is kind enough to offer us shelter for the +night. Dear me, you really are almost as tall as you appeared!" she +added, as she stood by his side. "For the first time in my life you make +me feel undersized." + +He looked down at her, a little more at his ease now by reason of the +friendliness of her manner, although he had still the air of one +embarked upon an adventure, the outcome of which was to be regarded with +some qualms. She was of little more than medium height, and his first +impressions of her were that she was thin, and too pale to be +good-looking; that her eyes were large and soft, with eyebrows more +clearly defined than is usual among Englishwomen; and that she moved +without seeming to walk. + +"I suppose I am tall," he admitted, as they started off along the road. +"One doesn't notice it around here. My name is John Strangewey, and our +house is just behind that clump of trees there, on the top of the hill. +We will do our best to make you comfortable," he added a little +doubtfully; "but there are only my brother and myself, and we have no +women servants in the house." + +"A roof of any sort will be a luxury," she assured him. "I only hope +that we shall not be a trouble to you in any way." + +"And your name, please?" he asked. + +She was a little amazed at his directness, but she answered him without +hesitation. + +"My name," she told him, "is Louise." + +He leaned down toward her, a little puzzled. + +"Louise? But your surname?" + +She laughed softly. It occurred to him that nothing like her laugh had +ever been heard on that gray-walled stretch of mountain road. + +"Never mind! I am traveling incognito. Who I am, or where I am +going--well, what does that matter to anybody? Perhaps I do not know +myself. You can imagine, if you like, that we came from the heart of +your hills, and that to-morrow they will open again and welcome us +back." + +"I don't think there are any motor-cars in fairyland," he objected. + +"We represent a new edition of fairy lore," she told him. "Modern +romance, you know, includes motor-cars and even French maids." + +"All the same," he protested, with masculine bluntness, "I really don't +see how I can introduce you to my brother as 'Louise from fairyland.'" + +She evaded the point. + +"Tell me about your brother. Is he as tall as you, and is he younger or +older?" + +"He is nearly twenty years older," her companion replied. "He is about +my height, but he stoops more than I do, and his hair is gray. I am +afraid that you may find him a little peculiar." + +Her escort paused and swung open a white gate on their left-hand side. +Before them was an ascent which seemed to her, in the dim light, to be +absolutely precipitous. + +"Do we have to climb up that?" she asked ruefully. + +"It isn't so bad as it looks," he assured her, "and I am afraid it's the +only way up. The house is at the bend there, barely fifty yards away. +You can see a light through the trees." + +"You must help me, then, please," she begged. + +He stooped down toward her. She linked her fingers together through his +left arm, and, leaning a little heavily upon him, began the ascent. He +was conscious of some subtle fragrance from her clothes, a perfume +strangely different from the odor of the ghostlike flowers that bordered +the steep path up which they were climbing. Her arms, slight, warm +things though they were, and great though his own strength, felt +suddenly like a yoke. At every step he seemed to feel their weight more +insistent--a weight not physical, solely due to this rush of unexpected +emotions. + +It was he now whose thoughts rushed away to that medley of hill legends +of which she had spoken. Was she indeed a creature of flesh and blood, +of the same world as the dull people among whom he lived? Then he +remembered the motor-car, the chauffeur, and the French maid, and he +gave a little sigh of relief. + +"Are we nearly there?" she asked. "Do tell me if I lean too heavily upon +you." + +"It is only a few steps further," he replied encouragingly. "Please lean +upon me as heavily as you like." + +She looked around her almost in wonder as her companion paused with his +hand upon a little iron gate. From behind that jagged stretch of hills +in the distance a corner of the moon had now appeared. By its light, +looking backward, she could see the road which they had left below, the +moorland stretching away into misty space, an uneasy panorama with its +masses of gray boulders, its clumps of gorse, its hillocks and hollows. + +Before her, through the little iron gate which her escort had pushed +open, was a garden, a little austere looking with its prim flower-beds, +filled with hyacinths and crocuses, bordering the flinty walks. The +trees were all bent in the same direction, fashioned after one pattern +by the winds. Before them was the house--a long, low building, part of +it covered with some kind of creeper. + +As they stepped across the last few yards of lawn, the black, oak door +which they were approaching suddenly opened. A tall, elderly man stood +looking inquiringly out. He shaded his eyes with his hands. + +"Is that you, brother?" he asked doubtfully. + +John Strangewey ushered his companion into the square, oak-paneled hall, +hung with many trophies of the chase, a few oil-paintings, here and +there some sporting prints. It was lighted only with a single lamp +which stood upon a round, polished table in the center of the +white-flagged floor. + +"This lady's motor-car has broken down, Stephen," John explained, +turning a little nervously toward his brother. "I found them in the +road, just at the bottom of the hill. She and her servants will spend +the night here. I have explained that there is no village or inn for a +good many miles." + +Louise turned graciously toward the elder man, who was standing grimly +apart. Even in those few seconds, her quick sensibilities warned her of +the hostility which lurked behind his tightly closed lips and steel-gray +eyes. His bow was stiff and uncordial, and he made no movement to offer +his hand. + +"We are not used to welcoming ladies at Peak Hall, madam," he said. "I +am afraid that you will find us somewhat unprepared for guests." + +"I ask for nothing more than a roof," Louise assured him. + +John threw his hat and whip upon the round table and stood in the center +of the stone floor. She caught a glance which flashed between the two +men--of appeal from the one, of icy resentment from the other. + +"We can at least add to the roof a bed and some supper--and a welcome," +John declared. "Is that not so, Stephen?" + +The older man turned deliberately away. It was as if he had not heard +his brother's words. + +"I will go and find Jennings," he said. "He must be told about the +servants." + +Louise watched the disappearing figure until it was out of sight. Then +she looked up into the face of the younger man, who was standing by her +side. + +"I am sorry," she murmured apologetically. "I am afraid that your +brother is not pleased at this sudden intrusion. Really, we shall give +you very little trouble." + +He answered her with a sudden eager enthusiasm. He seemed far more +natural then than at any time since he had ridden up from out of the +shadows to take his place in her life. + +"I won't apologize for Stephen," he said. "He is a little crotchety. You +must please be kind and not notice. You must let me, if I can, offer you +welcome enough for us both." + + + + + II + + +Louise, with a heavy, silver-plated candlestick in her hand, stood upon +the uneven floor of the bedroom to which she had been conducted, looking +up at the oak-framed family tree which hung above the broad +chimney-piece. She examined the coat of arms emblazoned in the corner, +and peered curiously at the last neatly printed addition, which +indicated Stephen and John Strangewey as the sole survivors of a +diminishing line. When at last she turned away, she found the name upon +her lips. + +"Strangewey!" she murmured. "John Strangewey! The name seems to bring +something into my memory. Have I ever known any one with such a name, +Aline?" + +The maid shook her head. + +"Never, _madame_, to the best of my belief," she declared. "Yet I, too, +seem to have heard it, and lately. It is perplexing. One has seen it +somewhere. One finds it familiar." + +Louise shrugged her shoulders. She stood for a moment looking around her +before she laid down the candlestick. + +The room was of unusual size, with two worm-eaten beams across the +ceiling; the windows were casemented, with broad seats in each recess. +The dressing table, upon which her belongings were set out, was of +solid, black oak, as was also the framework of the huge sofa, the +mirror, and the chairs. The ancient four-poster, hung with chintz and +supported by carved pillars, was spread with fine linen and covered with +a quilt made of small pieces of silk, lavender-perfumed. The great +wardrobe, with its solid mahogany doors, seemed ancient enough to have +stood in its place since the building of the house itself. A log of +sweet-smelling wood burned cheerfully in the open fireplace. + +"Really," Louise decided, "we have been most fortunate. This is an +adventure! Aline, give me some black silk stockings and some black +slippers. I will change nothing else." + +The maid obeyed in somewhat ominous silence. Her mistress, however, was +living in a little world of her own. + +"John Strangewey!" she murmured to herself, glancing across the room at +the family tree. "It is really curious how that name brings with it a +sense of familiarity. It is so unusual, too. And what an unusual-looking +person! Do you think, Aline, that you ever saw any one so superbly +handsome?" + +The maid's little grimace was expressive. + +"Never, _madame_," she replied. "And yet to think of it--a gentleman, a +person of intelligence, who lives here always, outside the world, with +just a terrible old man servant, the only domestic in the house! Nearly +all the cooking is done at the bailiff's, a quarter of a mile away." + +Louise nodded thoughtfully. + +"It is very strange," she admitted. "I should like to understand it. +Perhaps," she added, half to herself, "some day I shall." + +She passed across the room, and on her way paused before an old +cheval-glass, before which were suspended two silver candlesticks +containing lighted wax candles. She looked steadfastly at her own +reflection. A little smile parted her lips. In the bedroom of this +quaint farmhouse she was looking upon a face and a figure which the +illustrated papers and the enterprise of the modern photographer had +combined to make familiar to the world. + +A curious feeling came to her that she was looking at the face of a +stranger. She gazed earnestly into the mirror, with new eyes and a new +curiosity. She contemplated critically the lines of her slender figure +in its neat, perfectly tailored skirt--the figure of a girl, it seemed, +notwithstanding her twenty-seven years. Her soft, white blouse was open +at the neck, displaying a beautifully rounded throat. Her eyes traveled +upward, and dwelt with an almost passionate interest upon the oval face, +a little paler at that moment than usual; with its earnest, brown eyes, +its faint, silky eyebrows, its strong, yet mobile features; its lips a +little full, perhaps, but soft and sensitive; at the masses of brown +hair drawn low over her ears. + +This was herself, then. Did she really justify her reputation for +beauty, or was she just a cult, the passing craze of a world a little +weary of the ordinary standards? Or, again, was it only her art that had +focused the admiration of the world upon her? + +How would she seem to these two men down-stairs, she asked herself--the +dour, grim master of the house, and her more youthful rescuer, whose +coming had somehow touched her fancy? They saw so little of her sex. +They seemed, in a sense, to be in league against it. Would they find out +that they were entertaining an angel unawares? + +She thought with a gratified smile of her incognito. It was a real +trial of her strength, this! When she turned away from the mirror the +smile still lingered upon her lips, a soft light of anticipation was +shining in her eyes. + +John met her at the foot of the stairs. She noticed with some surprise +that he was wearing the dinner-jacket and black tie of civilization. + +"Will you come this way, please?" he begged. "Supper is quite ready." + +He held open the door of one of the rooms on the other side of the hall, +and she passed into a low dining room, dimly lit with shaded lamps. The +elder brother rose from his chair as they entered, although his +salutation was even grimmer than his first welcome. He was wearing a +dress-coat of old-fashioned cut, and a black stock, and he remained +standing, without any smile or word of greeting, until she had taken her +seat. Behind his chair stood a very ancient man servant in a gray +pepper-and-salt suit, with a white tie, whose expression, at the +entrance of this unexpected guest, seemed curiously to reflect the +inhospitable instincts of his master. + +Although conscious of this atmosphere of antagonism, Louise looked +around her with frank admiration as she took her place in the +high-backed chair which John was holding for her. The correctness of the +setting appealed strongly to her artistic perceptions. The figures and +features of the two men--Stephen, tall, severe, stately; John, amazingly +handsome, but of the same type; the black-raftered ceiling; the Jacobean +sideboard; the huge easy chairs; the fine prints upon the walls; the +pine log which burned upon the open hearth--nowhere did there seem to be +a single alien or modern note. + +The table was laid with all manner of cold dishes, supplemented by +others upon the sideboard. There were pots of jam and honey, a silver +teapot and silver spoons and forks of quaint design, strangely cut +glass, and a great Dresden bowl filled with flowers. + +"I am afraid," John remarked, "that you are not used to dining at this +hour. My brother and I are very old-fashioned in our customs. If we had +had a little longer notice--" + +"I never in my life saw anything that looked so delicious as your cold +chicken," Louise declared. "May I have some--and some ham? I believe +that you must farm some land yourselves. Everything looks as if it were +home-made or home-grown." + +"We are certainly farmers," John admitted, with a smile, "and I don't +think there is much here that isn't of our own production." + +"Of course, one must have some occupation, living so far out of the +world," Louise murmured. "I really am the most fortunate person," she +continued. "My car comes to grief in what seems to be a wilderness, and +I find myself in a very palace of plenty!" + +"I am not sure that your maid agrees," John laughed. "She seemed rather +horrified when she found that there was no woman servant about the +place." + +"Aline is spoiled, without a doubt," her mistress declared. "But is that +really the truth?" + +"Absolutely." + +"But how do you manage?" Louise went on. "Don't you need dairymaids, for +instance?" + +"The farm buildings are some distance away from the house," John +explained. "There is quite a little colony at the back, and the woman +who superintends the dairy lives there. It is only in the house that we +are entirely independent of your sex. We manage, somehow or other, with +Jennings here and two boys." + +"You are not both woman-haters, I hope?" + +Her younger host flashed a warning glance at Louise, but it was too +late. Stephen had laid down his knife and fork and was leaning in her +direction. + +"Madam," he intervened, "since you have asked the question, I will +confess that I have never known any good come to a man of our family +from the friendship or service of women. Our family history, if ever you +should come to know it, would amply justify my brother and myself for +our attitude toward your sex." + +"Stephen!" John remonstrated, a slight frown upon his face. "Need you +weary our guest with your peculiar views? It is scarcely polite, to say +the least of it." + +The older man sat, for a moment, grim and silent. + +"Perhaps you are right, brother," he admitted. "This lady did not seek +our company, but it may interest her to know that she is the first woman +who has crossed the threshold of Peak Hall for a matter of six years." + +Louise looked from one to the other, half incredulously. + +"Do you really mean it? Is that literally true?" she asked John. + +"Absolutely," the young man assured her; "but please remember that you +are none the less heartily welcome here. We have few women neighbors, +and intercourse with them seems to have slipped out of our lives. Tell +me, how far have you come to-day, and where did you hope to sleep +to-night?" + +Louise hesitated for a moment. For some reason or other, the question +seemed to bring with it some unexpected and disturbing thought. + +"I was motoring from Edinburgh. As regards to-night, I had not made up +my mind. I rather hoped to reach Kendal. My journey is not at all an +interesting matter to talk about," she went on. "Tell me about your life +here. It sounds most delightfully pastoral. Do you really mean that you +produce nearly everything yourselves? Your honey and preserves and bread +and butter, for instance--are they all home-made?" + +"And our hams," the young man laughed, "and everything else upon the +table. You underestimate the potentiality of male labor. Jennings is +certainly a better cook than the average woman. Everything you see was +cooked by him. We have a sort of secondary kitchen, though, down at the +bailiff's, where the preserves are made and some of the other things." + +"And you live here all the year round?" she asked. + +"My brother," John told her, "has not been further away than the nearest +market-town for nearly twenty years." + +Her eyes grew round with astonishment. + +"But you go to London sometimes?" + +"I was there eight years ago. Since then I have not been further away +than Carlisle or Kendal. I go into the camp near Kendal for three weeks +every year--Territorial training, you know." + +"But how do you pass your time? What do you do with yourself?" she +asked. + +"Farm," he answered. "Farming is our daily occupation. Then for +amusement we hunt, shoot, and fish. The seasons pass before we know it." + +She looked appraisingly at John Strangewey. Notwithstanding his +sun-tanned cheeks and the splendid vigor of his form, there was nothing +in the least agricultural about his manner or his appearance. There was +humor as well as intelligence in his clear, gray eyes. She opined that +the books which lined one side of the room were at once his property and +his hobby. + +"It is a very healthy life, no doubt," she said; "but somehow it seems +incomprehensible to think of a man like yourself living always in such +an out-of-the-way corner, with no desire to see what is going on in the +world, or to be able to form any estimate of the changes in men's +thoughts and habits. Human life seems to me so much more interesting +than anything else. Does this all sound a little impertinent?" she wound +up naively. "I am so sorry! My friends spoil me, I believe, and I get +into the habit of saying things just as they come into my head." + +John's lips were open to reply, but Stephen once more intervened. + +"Life means a different thing to each of us, madam," he said sternly. +"There are many born with the lust for cities and the crowded places in +their hearts, born with the desire to mingle with their fellows, to +absorb the conventional vices and virtues, to become one of the +multitude. It has been different with us Strangeweys." + +Jennings, at a sign from his master, removed the tea equipage, evidently +produced in honor of their visitor. Three tall-stemmed glasses were +placed upon the table, and a decanter of port reverently produced. + +Louise had fallen for a moment or two into a fit of abstraction. Her +eyes were fixed upon the opposite wall, from which, out of their faded +frames, a row of grim-looking men and women, startlingly like her two +hosts, seemed to frown down upon her. + +"Is that your father?" she asked, moving her head toward one of the +portraits. + +"My grandfather, John Strangewey," Stephen told her. + +"Was he one of the wanderers?" + +"He left Cumberland only twice during his life. He was master of hounds, +magistrate, colonel in the yeomanry of that period, and three times he +refused to stand for Parliament." + +"John Strangewey!" Louise repeated softly to herself. "I was looking at +your family tree up-stairs," she went on. "It is curious how both my +maid and myself were struck with a sense of familiarity about the name, +as if we had heard or read something about it quite lately." + +Her words were almost carelessly spoken, but she was conscious of the +somewhat ominous silence which ensued. She glanced up wonderingly and +intercepted a rapid look passing between the two men. More puzzled than +ever, she turned toward John as if for an explanation. He had risen +somewhat abruptly to his feet, and his hand was upon the back of her +chair. + +"Will it be disagreeable to you if my brother smokes a pipe?" he asked. +"I tried to have our little drawing-room prepared for you, but the fire +has not been lit for so long that the room, I am afraid, is quite +impossible." + +"Do let me stay here with you," she begged; "and I hope that both of you +will smoke. I am quite used to it." + +John wheeled up an easy chair for her. Stephen, stiff and upright, sat +on the other side of the hearth. He took the tobacco-jar and pipe that +his brother had brought him, and slowly filled the bowl. + +"With your permission, then, madam," he said, as he struck a match. + +Louise smiled graciously. Some instinct prompted her to stifle her own +craving for a cigarette and keep her little gold case hidden in her +pocket. All the time her eyes were wandering around the room. Suddenly +she rose and, moving round the table, stood once more facing the row of +gloomy-looking portraits. + +"So that is your grandfather," she remarked to John, who had followed +her. "Is your father not here?" + +He shook his head. + +"My father's portrait was never painted." + +"Tell the truth, John," Stephen enjoined, rising in his place and +setting down his pipe. "Our father's portrait is not here, madam, +because he was one of those of whom I have spoken--one of those who were +drawn into the vortex of the city, and who knew only the shallow ways of +life. Listen!" + +With a heavy silver candlestick in either hand, Stephen crossed the +room. He raised them high above his head and pointed to the pictures one +by one. + +"John Robert Strangewey, our great-grandfather," he began. "That picture +was a presentation from the farmers of Cumberland. He, too, was a +magistrate, and held many public offices in the county. + +"By his side is his brother, Stephen George Strangewey. For thirty-five +years he took the chair at the farmers' ordinary at Market Ketton on +every Saturday at one o'clock, and there was never a deserving man in +this part of the county, engaged in agricultural pursuits, who at any +time sought his aid in vain. They always knew where he was to be found, +and every Saturday, before dinner was served, there would be some one +there to seek his aid or advice. He lived his life to his own benefit +and to the benefit of his neighbors--the life which we are all sent here +to lead. + +"Two generations before him you see my namesake, Stephen Strangewey. It +was he who invented the first threshing-machine used in this county. He +farmed the land that my brother and I own to-day. He was churchwarden at +our little church, and he, too, was a magistrate. He did his duty in a +smaller way, but zealously and honestly, among the hillmen of this +district." + +"There are gaps in your family history," Louise observed. + +"The gaps, madam," Stephen explained, "are left by those who have +abandoned their natural heritage. We Strangeweys were hillfolk and +farmers, by descent and destiny, for more than four hundred years. Our +place is here upon the land, almost among the clouds, and those of us +who have realized it have led the lives God meant us to lead. There have +been some of our race who have been tempted into the lowlands and the +cities. Not one of them brought honor upon our name. Their pictures are +not here. They are not worthy to be here." + +Stephen set down the candlesticks and returned to his place. Louise, +with her hands clasped behind her back, glanced toward John, who still +stood by her side. + +"Tell me," she asked him, "have none of your people who went out into +the world done well for themselves?" + +"Scarcely one," he admitted. "My brother's words seem a little sweeping, +but they are very near the truth. The air of the great cities seems to +have poisoned every Strangewey--" + +"Not one," Stephen interrupted. "Colonel John Strangewey died leading +his regiment at Waterloo, an end well enough, but reached through many +years of evil conduct and loose living." + +"He was a brave soldier," John put in quietly. + +"That is true," Stephen admitted. "His best friends have claimed no +other quality for him. Madam," he went on, turning toward Louise, "lest +my welcome to you this evening should have seemed inhospitable, let me +tell you this. Every Strangewey who has left our county, and trodden the +downward path of failure, has done so at the instance of one of your +sex. That is why those of us who inherit the family spirit look askance +upon all strange women. That is why no woman is ever welcome within this +house." + +Louise resumed her seat in the easy chair. + +"I am so sorry," she murmured, looking down at her slipper. "I could not +help breaking down here, could I?" + +"Nor could my brother fail to offer you the hospitality of this roof," +Stephen admitted. "The incident was unfortunate but inevitable. It is a +matter for regret that we have so little to offer you in the way of +entertainment." He rose to his feet. The door had been opened. Jennings +was standing there with a candlestick upon a massive silver salver. +Behind him was Aline. "You are doubtless fatigued by your journey, +madam," Stephen concluded. + +Louise made a little grimace, but she rose at once to her feet. She +understood quite well that she was being sent to bed, and she shivered a +little when she looked at the hour--barely ten o'clock. Yet it was all +in keeping. From the doorway she looked back into the room, in which +nothing seemed to have been touched for centuries. She stood upon the +threshold to bid her final good-night, fully conscious of the complete +anachronism of her presence there. + +Her smile for Stephen was respectful and full of dignity. As she glanced +toward John, however, something flashed in her eyes and quivered at the +corners of her lips, something which escaped her control, something +which made him grip for a moment the back of the chair against which he +stood. Then, between the old man servant, who insisted upon carrying her +candle to her room, and her maid, who walked behind, she crossed the +white stone hall and stepped slowly up the broad flight of stairs. + + + + + III + + +Louise awoke the next morning filled with a curious sense of buoyant +expectancy. The sunshine was pouring into the room, brightening up its +most somber corners. It lay across the quilt of her bed, and seemed to +bring out the perfume of lavender from the pillow on which her head +reposed. + +Aline, hearing her mistress stir, hastened at once to the bedside. + +"Good morning, _madame_!" + +Louise sat up and looked around her, with her hands clasped about her +knees. + +"Tell me everything, Aline," she said. "Have you my breakfast there? And +what time is it?" + +"It is half-past nine, _madame_," Aline replied, "and your breakfast is +here. The old imbecile from the kitchen has just brought it up." + +Louise looked approvingly at the breakfast tray, with the home-made +bread and deep-yellow butter, the brown eggs and clear honey. The smell +of the coffee was aromatic. She breathed a little sigh of content. + +"How delicious everything looks!" she exclaimed. + +"The home-made things are well enough in their way, _madame_," Aline +agreed, "but I have never known a household so strange and disagreeable. +That M. Jennings, who calls himself the butler--he is a person +unspeakable, a savage!" + +Louise's eyes twinkled. + +"I don't think they are fond of women in this household, Aline," she +remarked. "Tell me, have you seen Charles?" + +"Charles has gone to the nearest blacksmith's forge to get something +made for the car, _madame_," Aline replied. "He asked me to say that he +was afraid he would not be ready to start before midday." + +"That does not matter," Louise declared, as she settled down to her +breakfast. "I do not care how long it is before he is ready. I should +love to spend a month here!" + +Aline held up her hands. She was speechless. Her mistress laughed at her +consternation. + +"Well," she continued, "there is no fear of their asking us for a month, +or for an hour longer than they can help. The elder Mr. Strangewey, it +seems, has the strongest objection to our sex. There is not a woman +servant in the house, is there?" + +"Not one, _madame_," Aline replied. "I have never been in a household +conducted in such a manner. It is like the kitchen of a monastery. The +terrible Jennings is speechless. If one addresses him, he only mumbles. +The sound of my skirts, or my footstep on the stone floor, makes him +shiver. He is worse, one would imagine, than his master." + +Louise ate and drank reflectively. + +"It is the queerest household one could possibly stumble upon," she +remarked. "The young Mr. Strangewey--he seems different, but he falls in +with his brother's ways." + +Aline glanced at herself in the mirror. She was just out of her +mistress's range of vision, and she made a little grimace at her +reflection. + +"I met him twice this morning in the hall," she remarked. "He wished me +good morning the first time. The second time he did not speak. He did +not seem to see me." + +Louise finished her breakfast and strolled presently to the window. She +gave a little sigh of pleasure as she looked out. + +"But, Aline," she exclaimed, "how exquisite!" + +The maid glanced over her shoulder and went on preparing her mistress's +clothes. + +"It is as _madame_ finds it," she replied. "For myself, I like the +country for fete days and holidays only, and even then I like to find +plenty of people there." + +Louise heard nothing. She was gazing eagerly out of the casement-window. +Immediately below was a grass-grown orchard which stretched upward, at a +precipitous angle, toward a belt of freshly plowed field; beyond, a +little chain of rocky hills, sheer overhead. The trees were pink and +white with blossom; the petals lay about upon the ground like drifted +snowflakes. Here and there yellow jonquils were growing among the long +grass. A waft of perfume stole into the room through the window which +she had opened. + +"Fill my bath quickly, Aline," Louise ordered. "I must go out. I want to +see whether it is really as beautiful as it looks." + +Aline dressed her mistress in silence. It was not until she had finished +lacing her shoes that she spoke another word. Then, suddenly, she +stopped short in the act of crossing the room. Her eyes had happened to +fall upon the emblazoned genealogical record. A little exclamation +escaped her. She swung round toward her mistress, and for once there was +animation in her face. + +"But, _madame_," she exclaimed, "I have remembered! The name +Strangewey--you see it there--it was in our minds all the time that we +had seen or heard of it quite lately. Don't you remember--" + +"Yes, yes!" Louise interrupted. "I know it reminds me of something, but +of what?" + +"Yesterday morning," Aline continued, "it was you _madame_, who read it +out while you took your coffee. You spoke of the good fortune of some +farmer in the north of England to whom a relative in Australia had left +a great fortune--hundreds and thousands of pounds. The name was +Strangewey, the same as that. I remember it now." + +She pointed once more to the family tree. Louise sat for a moment with +parted lips. + +"You are quite right, Aline. I remember it all perfectly now. I wonder +whether it could possibly be either of these two men!" + +Aline shook her head doubtfully. + +"It would be unbelievable, _madame_," she decided. "Could any sane human +creatures live here, with no company but the sheep and the cows, if they +had money--money to live in the cities, to buy pleasures, to be happy? +Unbelievable, _madame_!" + +Louise remained standing before the window. She was watching the +blossom-laden boughs of one of the apple trees bending and swaying in +the fresh morning breeze--watching the restless shadows which came and +went upon the grass beneath. + +"That is just your point of view, Aline," she murmured; "but +happiness--well, you would not understand. They are strange men, these +two. The young one is different now, but as he grows older he will be +like his brother. He will live a very simple and honorable life. He will +be--what is it they call it?--a county magistrate, chairman of many +things, a judge at agricultural shows. When he dies, he will be buried +up in that windy little churchyard, and people will come from a long way +off to say how good he was. My hat, quickly, Aline! If I am not in that +orchard in five minutes I shall be miserable!" + +Louise found her way without difficulty across a cobbled yard, through a +postern gate set in a red-brick wall, into the orchard. Very slowly, and +with her head turned upward toward the trees, she made her way toward +the boundary wall. Once, with a little exclamation of pleasure, she drew +down a bough of the soft, cool blossom and pressed it against her cheek. +She stopped for a moment or two to examine the contents of a row of +chicken-coops, and at every few steps she turned around to face the +breeze which came sweeping across the moorland from the other side of +the house. + +Arrived at the farther end of the orchard, she came to a gate, against +which she rested for a moment, leaning her arms upon the topmost bar. +Before her was the little belt of plowed earth, the fresh, pungent odor +of which was a new thing to her; a little way to the right, the rolling +moorland, starred with clumps of gorse; in front, across the field on +the other side of the gray stone wall, the rock-strewn hills. The +sky--unusually blue it seemed to her, and dotted all over with little +masses of fleecy, white clouds--seemed somehow lower and nearer; or was +she, perhaps higher up? + +She lingered there, absolutely bewildered by the rapid growth in her +brain and senses of what surely must be some newly kindled faculty of +appreciation. There was a beauty in the world which she had not felt +before. + +She turned her head almost lazily at the sound of a man's voice. A team +of horses, straining at a plow, were coming round the bend of the +field, and by their side, talking to the laborer who guided them, was +John Strangewey. She watched him as he came into sight up the steep +rise. Against the empty background, he seemed to lose nothing of the +size and strength that had impressed her on the previous night. He was +bareheaded, and she noticed for the first time that his closely cropped +fair hair was inclined to curl a little near the ears. + +He walked in step with the plowman by his side, but without any of the +laborer's mechanical plod--with a spring in his footsteps, indeed, as if +his life and thoughts were full of joyous things. He was wearing +black-and-white tweed clothes, a little shabby but well-fitting; +breeches and gaiters; thick boots, plentifully caked now with mud. He +was pointing with his stick along the furrow, so absorbed in the +instructions he was giving that he was almost opposite the gate before +he was aware of her presence. He promptly abandoned his task and +approached her. + +"Good morning!" he called out. + +She waved her hand. + +"Good morning!" + +"You have slept well?" he asked. + +"Better, I think, than ever before in my life," she answered. +"Differently, at any rate. And such an awakening!" + +He looked at her, a little puzzled. The glow upon her face and the +sunlight upon her brown hair kept him silent. He was content to look at +her and wonder. + +"Tell me," she demanded impetuously, "is this a little corner of +fairy-land that you have found? Does the sun always shine like this? +Does the earth always smell as sweetly, and are your trees always in +blossom? Does your wind always taste as if God had breathed the elixir +of life into it?" + +He turned around to follow the sweep of her eyes. Something of the same +glow seemed to rest for a moment upon his face. + +"It is good," he said, "to find what you love so much appreciated by +some one else." + +They stood together in a silence almost curiously protracted. Then the +plowman passed again with his team of horses, and John called out some +instructions to him. She followed him down to earth. + +"Tell me, Mr. Strangewey," she inquired, "where are your +farm-buildings?" + +"Come and I will show you," he answered, opening the gate to let her +through. "Keep close to the hedge until we come to the end of the plow; +and then--but no, I won't anticipate. This way!" + +She walked by his side, conscious every now and then of his frankly +admiring eyes as he looked down at her. She herself felt all the joy of +a woman of the world imbibing a new experience. She did not even glance +toward the dismantled motor in the barn which they passed. + +"I am glad," he remarked presently, "that you look upon us more +charitably than your maid." + +"Aline is a good girl," Louise said, smiling, "but hot-water taps and +electric lights are more to her than sunshine and hills. Do you know," +she went on, "I feel like a child being led through an undiscovered +country, a land of real adventures. Which way are we going, and what are +we going to see? Tell me, please!" + +"Wait," he begged. "It is just a queer little corner among the hills, +that is all." + +They reached the end of the plowed field, and, passing through a gate, +turned abruptly to the left and began to climb a narrow path which +bordered the boundary wall, and which became steeper every moment. As +they ascended, the orchard and the long, low house on the other side +seemed to lie almost at their feet. The road and the open moorland +beyond, stretching to the encircling hills, came more clearly into sight +with every backward glance. Louise paused at last, breathless. + +"I must sit down," she insisted. "It is too beautiful to hurry over." + +"It is only a few steps farther," he told her, holding out his hand; +"just to where the path winds its way round the hill there. But perhaps +you are tired?" + +"On the contrary," she assured him, "I never felt so vigorous in my +life. All the exercise I take, as a rule, is in Kensington Gardens; and +look!" She pointed downward to her absurd little shoes, and held out her +hand, "You will have to help me," she pleaded. + +The last few steps were, indeed, almost precipitous. Fragments of rock, +protruding through the grass and bushes, served as steps. John moved on +a little ahead and pulled her easily up. Even the slight tightening of +his fingers seemed to raise her from her feet. She looked at him +wonderingly. + +"How strong you are!" + +"A matter of weight," he answered, smiling. "You are like a feather. You +walk as lightly as the fairies who come out on midsummer night's eve and +dance in circles around the gorse-bushes there." + +"Is it the home of the fairies you are taking me to?" she asked. "If you +have discovered that, no wonder you find us ordinary women outside your +lives!" + +He laughed. + +"There are no fairies where we are going," he assured her. + +They were on a rough-made road now, which turned abruptly to the right a +few yards ahead, skirting the side of a deep gorge. They took a few +steps further, and Louise stopped short with a cry of wonder. + +Around the abrupt corner an entirely new perspective was revealed--a +little hamlet, built on a shoulder of the mountains; and on the right, +below a steep descent, a wide and sunny valley. It was like a tiny world +of its own, hidden in the bosom of the hills. There was a long line of +farm-buildings, built of gray stone and roofed with red tiles; there +were fifteen or twenty stacks; a quaint, white-washed house of +considerable size, almost covered on the southward side with creepers; a +row of cottages, and a gray-walled enclosure--stretching with its white +tombstones to the very brink of the descent--in the midst of which was +an ancient church, in ruins at the further end, partly rebuilt with the +stones of the hillside. + +Louise looked around her, silent with wonder. A couple of sheep-dogs had +rushed out from the farmhouse and were fawning around her companion. In +the background a gray-bearded shepherd, with Scottish plaid thrown over +his shoulder, raised his hat. + +"It isn't real, is it?" she asked, clinging for a moment to John +Strangewey's arm. + +He patted one of the dogs and smiled down at her. + +"Why not? William Elwick there is a very real shepherd, I can assure +you. He has sat on these hills for the last sixty-eight years." + +She looked at the old man almost with awe. + +"It is like the Bible!" she murmured. "Fancy the sunrises he must have +seen, and the sunsets! The coming and the fading of the stars, the +spring days, the music of the winds in these hollow places, booming to +him in the night-time! I want to talk to him. May I?" + +He shook his head. The old man was already shambling off. + +"Better not," he advised. "You would be disappointed, for William has +the family weakness--he cannot bear the sight of a woman. You see, he is +pretending now that there is something wrong with the hill flock. You +asked where the land was that we tilled. Now look down. Hold my arm if +you feel giddy." + +She followed the wave of his ash stick. The valley sheer below them, and +the lower hills, on both sides, were parceled out into fields, enclosed +within stone walls, reminding her, from the height at which they stood, +of nothing so much as the quilt upon her bed. + +"That's where all our pasture is," he told her, "and our arable land. We +grow a great deal of corn in the dip there. All the rest of the +hillside, and the moorlands, of course, are fit for nothing but grazing; +but there are eleven hundred acres down there from which we can raise +almost anything we choose." + +Her eyes swept this strange tract of country backward and forward. She +saw the men like specks in the fields, the cows grazing in the pasture +like toy animals. Then she turned and looked at the neat row of stacks +and the square of farm-buildings. + +"I am trying hard to realize that you are a farmer and that this is your +life," she said. + +He swung open the wooden gate of the churchyard, by which they were +standing. There was a row of graves on either side of the prim path. + +"Suppose," he suggested, "you tell me about yourself now--about your own +life." + +The hills parted suddenly as she stood there looking southward. Through +the chasm she seemed to see very clearly the things beyond. Her own +life, her own world, spread itself out--a world of easy triumphs, of +throbbing emotions always swiftly ministered to, always leaving the same +dull sensation of discontent; a world in which the pathways were broad +and smooth, but in which the end seemed always the same; a world of +receding beauties and mocking desires. The faces of her friends were +there--men and women, brilliant, her intellectual compeers, a little +tired, offering always the same gifts, the same homage. + +"My life, and the world in which I live, seem far away just now," she +said quietly. "I think that it is doing me good to have a rest from +them. Go on talking to me about yourself, please." + +He smiled. He was just a little disappointed. + +"We shall very soon reach the end of all that I have to tell you," he +remarked. "Still, if there is anything you would like to know--" + +"Who were these men and women who have lived and died here?" she +interrupted, with a little wave of her hand toward the graves. + +"All our own people," he told her; "laborers, shepherds, tenant-farmers, +domestic servants. Our clergyman comes from the village on the other +side of that hill. He rides here every Sunday on a pony which we have to +provide for him." + +She studied the names upon the tombstones, spelling them out slowly. + +"The married people," he went on, "are buried on the south side; the +single ones and children are nearer the wall. Tell me," he asked, after +a moment's hesitation, "are you married or single?" + +She gave a little start. The abruptness of the question, the keen, +steadfast gaze of his compelling eyes, seemed for a moment to paralyze +both her nerves and her voice. Again the hills rolled open, but this +time it was her own life only that she saw, her own life, and one man's +face which she seemed to see looking at her from some immeasurable +distance, waiting, yet drawing her closer toward him, closer and closer +till their hands met. + +She was terrified at this unexpected tumult of emotion. It was as if +some one had suddenly drawn away one of the stones from the foundation +of her life. She found herself repeating the words on the tombstone +facing her: + + "And of Elizabeth, for sixty-one years the faithful wife and + helpmate of Ezra Cummings, mother of his children, and his + partner in the life everlasting." + +Her knees began to shake. There was a momentary darkness before her +eyes. She felt for the tombstone and sat down. + + + + + IV + + +The churchyard gate was opened and closed noisily. They both glanced up. +Stephen Strangewey was coming slowly toward them along the flinty path. +Louise, suddenly herself again, rose briskly to her feet. + +"Here comes your brother," she said. "I wish he wouldn't glower at me +so! I really am not such a terrible person as he seems to think." + +John muttered a word or two of polite but unconvincing protest. They +stood together awaiting his approach. Stephen had apparently lost none +of his dourness of the previous night. He was dressed in gray homespun, +with knickerbockers and stockings of great thickness. He wore a flannel +shirt and collar and a black wisp of a tie. Underneath his battered felt +hat his weather-beaten face seemed longer and grimmer than ever, his +mouth more uncompromising. As he looked toward Louise, there was no +mistaking the slow dislike in his steely eyes. + +"Your chauffeur, madam, has just returned," he announced. "He sent word +that he will be ready to start at one o'clock." + +Louise, inspired to battle by the almost provocative hostility of her +elder host, smiled sweetly upon him. + +"You can't imagine how sorry I am to hear it," she said. "I don't know +when, in the whole course of my life, I have met with such a delightful +adventure or spent such a perfect morning!" + +Stephen looked at her with level disapproving eyes--at her slender form +in its perfectly fitting tailored gown; at her patent shoes, so +obviously unsuitable for her surroundings, and at the faint vision of +silk stockings. + +"If I might say so without appearing inhospitable," he remarked, with +faint sarcasm, "this would seem to be the fitting moment for your +departure. A closer examination of our rough life up here might alter +your views." + +She turned toward John, and caught the deprecating glance which flashed +from him to Stephen. + +"Your brother is making fun of me," she declared. "He looks at me and +judges me just as I believe he would judge most people--sternly and +without mercy. After all, you know, even though I am a daughter of the +cities, there is another point of view--ours. Can you not believe that +the call which prompts men and women to do the things in life which are +really worth while is heard as often amid the hubbub of the city as in +the solitude of these austere hills?" + +"The question is a bootless one," Stephen answered firmly. "The city +calls to its own, as the country holds its children, and both do best in +their own environment. Like to like, and each bird to his own nest. You +would be as much out of place here with us, madam, as my brother and I +on the pavements of your city." + +"You may be right," she admitted, "yet you dismiss one of the greatest +questions in life with a single turn of your tongue. It is given to no +one to be infallible. It is even possible that you may be wrong." + +"It is possible," Stephen agreed grimly. + +"The things in life which are worth while," she continued, looking down +into the valley, "are common to all. They do not consist of one thing +for one man, another for another. To whom comes the greater share of +them--the dweller in the city, or you in your primitive and patriarchal +life? You rest your brains, you make the seasons feed you, you work +enough to keep your muscles firm, and nature does the rest. She brings +the food to your doors, and when your harvest is over your work is done. +There are possibilities of rust here, Mr. Strangewey!" + +Stephen's smile was almost disdainful. + +"Madam," he declared, "you have six or seven million people in London. +How many of them live by really creative and honorable work? How many +are there of polyglot race--Hebrews, Germans, foreigners of every type, +preying upon one another, making false incomes which exist only on +paper, living in false luxury, tasting false joys? The sign-post of our +lives must be our personal inclinations. Our inclinations--my brother's +inclinations and mine--lead us, as they have led my people for hundreds +of years, to seek the cleaner things in life and the simpler forms of +happiness. If I do not have the pleasure, madam, of seeing you again, +permit me to wish you farewell." + +He turned and walked away. Louise watched him with very real interest. + +"Do you know," she said to John, "there is something which I can only +describe as biblical about your brother, something a little like the +prophets of the Old Testament, in the way he sees only one issue and +clings to it. Are you, too, of his way of thinking?" + +"Up to a certain point, I believe I am," he confessed. "I do not think I +could ever have lived in the city. I do not think I could ever have been +happy in any of the professions." + +"Certainly I could not imagine you as a stock-broker or a lawyer. I feel +it hard to realize you in any of the ordinary walks of life. Still, you +know, the greatest question of all remains unanswered. Are you content +just to live and flourish and die? Are there no compelling obligations +with which one is born? Do you never feel cramped--in your mind, I +mean?--feel that you want to push your way through the clouds into some +other life?" + +"I feel nearer the clouds here," he answered simply. + +"I suppose you are sure of content--that is to say, if you can keep free +from doubts. Still, there is the fighting instinct, you know; the +craving for action. Don't you feel that sometimes?" + +"Perhaps," he admitted. + +They were leaving the churchyard now. She paused abruptly, pointing to a +single grave in a part of the churchyard which seemed detached from the +rest. + +"Whose grave is that?" she inquired. + +He hesitated. + +"It is the grave of a young girl," he told her quietly. + +"But why is she buried so far off, and all alone?" Louise persisted. + +"She was the daughter of one of our shepherds," he replied. "She went +into service at Carlisle, and returned here with a child. They are both +buried there." + +"Because of that her grave is apart from the others?" + +"Yes," he answered. "It is very seldom, I am glad to say, that anything +of the sort happens among us." + +For the second time that morning Louise was conscious of an unexpected +upheaval of emotion. She felt that the sunshine had gone, that the whole +sweetness of the place had suddenly passed away. The charm of its +simple austerity had perished. + +"And I thought I had found paradise!" she cried. + +She moved quickly from John Strangewey's side. Before he could realize +her intention, she had stepped over the low dividing wall and was on her +knees by the side of the plain, neglected grave. She tore out the spray +of apple-blossom which she had thrust into the bosom of her gown, and +placed it reverently at the head of the little mound. For a moment her +eyes drooped and her lips moved--she herself scarcely knew whether it +was in prayer. Then she turned and came slowly back to her companion. + +Something had gone, too, from his charm. She saw in him now nothing but +the coming dourness of his brother. Her heart was still heavy. She +shivered a little. + +"Come," she said, "let us go back!" + +They commenced the steep descent in silence. Every now and then John +held his companion by the arm to steady her somewhat uncertain +footsteps. It was he at last who spoke. + +"Will you tell me, please, what is the matter with you, and why you +placed that sprig of apple-blossom where you did?" + +His tone woke her from her lethargy. She was a little surprised at its +poignant, almost challenging note. + +"Certainly," she replied. "I placed it there as a woman's protest +against the injustice of that isolation." + +"I deny that it is unjust." + +She turned around and waved her hand toward the little gray building. + +"The Savior to whom your church is dedicated thought otherwise," she +reminded him. "Do you play at being lords paramount here over the souls +and bodies of your serfs?" + +"You judge without knowledge of the facts," he assured her calmly. "The +girl could have lived here happily and been married to a respectable +young man. She chose, instead, a wandering life. She chose, further, to +make it a disreputable one. She broke her mother's heart and soured her +father's latter years. She brought into the world a nameless child." + +Louise's footsteps slackened. + +"You men," she sighed, "are all alike! You judge only by what happens. +You never look inside. That is why your justice is so different from a +woman's. All that you have told me is very pitiful, but there is another +view of the case which you should consider. Let us sit down upon this +boulder for a few moments. There is something that I should like to say +to you before I go." + +They sat upon a ledge of rock. Below them was the house, with its walled +garden and the blossom-laden orchard. Beyond stretched the moorland, +brilliant with patches of yellow gorse, and the hills, blue and melting +in the morning sunlight. + +"Don't you men sometimes realize," she continued earnestly, "the many, +many guises in which temptation may come to a woman, especially to the +young girl so far from home? She may be very lonely, and she may care; +and if she cares, it is so hard to refuse the man she loves. The very +sweetness, the very generosity of a woman's nature prompts her to give, +give, give all the time. There are other women, similarly circumstanced, +who think only of themselves, of their own safety and happiness, and +they escape the danger; but are they to be praised and respected, while +she that yields is condemned and cast out? I feel that you are not going +to agree with me, and I do not wish to argue with you; but what I so +passionately object to is the sweeping judgment you make--the sheep on +one side and the goats on the other. That is how man judges; God looks +further. Every case is different. The law by which one should be judged +may be poor justice for another." + +She glanced at him almost appealingly, but there was no sign of yielding +in his face. + +"Laws," he reminded her, "are made for the benefit of the whole human +race. Sometimes an individual may suffer for the benefit of others. That +is inevitable." + +"And so let the subject pass," she concluded, "but it saddens me to +think that one of the great sorrows of the world should be there like a +monument to spoil the wonder of this morning. Now I am going to ask you +a question. Are you the John Strangewey who has recently had a fortune +left to him?" + +He nodded. + +"You read about it in the newspapers, I suppose," he said. "Part of the +story isn't true. It was stated that I had never seen my Australian +uncle, but as a matter of fact he has been over here three or four +times. It was he who paid for my education at Harrow and Oxford." + +"What did your brother say to that?" + +"He opposed it," John confessed, "and he hated my uncle. He detests the +thought of any one of us going out of sight of our own hills. My uncle +had the wander-fever." + +"And you?" she asked suddenly. + +"I have none of it," he asserted. + +A very faint smile played about her lips. + +"Perhaps not before," she murmured; "but now?" + +"Do you mean because I have inherited the money?" + +She leaned a little toward him. Her smile now was more evident, and +there was something in her eyes which was almost like a challenge. + +"Naturally!" + +"What difference does my money make?" he demanded. + +"Don't you realize the increase of your power as a human being?" she +replied. "Don't you realize the larger possibilities of the life that is +open to you? You can move, if you will, in the big world. You can take +your place in any society you choose, meet interesting people who have +done things, learn everything that is new, do everything that is worth +doing in life. You can travel to the remote countries of the globe. You +can become a politician, a philanthropist, or a sportsman. You can +follow your tastes wherever they lead you, and--perhaps this is the most +important thing of all--you can do everything upon a splendid scale." + +He smiled down at her. + +"That all sounds very nice," he admitted, "but supposing that I have no +taste in any of the directions you have mentioned? Supposing my life +here satisfies me? Supposing I find all that I expect to find in life +here on my own land, among my own hills? What then?" + +She looked at him with a curiosity which was almost passionate. Her lips +were parted, her senses strained. + +"It is not possible," she exclaimed, "that you can mean it!" + +"But why not?" he protested. "I have not the tortuous brain of the +modern politician. I hate cities--the smell of them, the atmosphere of +them, the life in them. The desire for travel is only half born in me. +That may come--I cannot tell. I love the daily work here; I am fond of +horses and dogs. I know every yard of land we own, and I know what it +will produce. It interests me to try experiments--new crops, a new +distribution of crops, new machinery sometimes, new methods of +fertilizing. I love to watch the seasons come and reign and pass. I love +to feel the wind and the sun, and even the rain. All these things have +become a sort of appetite to me. I am afraid," he wound up a little +lamely, "that this is all very badly expressed, but the whole truth of +it is, you see, that I am a man of simple and inherited tastes. I feel +that my life is here, and I live it here and I love it. Why should I go +out like a _Don Quixote_ and search for vague adventures?" + +"Because you are a man!" she answered swiftly. "You have a brain and a +soul too big for your life here. You eat and drink, and physically you +flourish, but part of you sleeps because it is shut away from the world +of real things. Don't you sometimes feel it in your very heart that +life, as we were meant to live it, can only be lived among your fellow +men?" + +He looked upward, over his shoulder, at the little cluster of +farm-buildings and cottages, and the gray stone church. + +"It seems to me," he declared simply, "that the man who tries to live +more than one life fails in both. There is a little cycle of life here, +among our thirty or forty souls, which revolves around my brother and +myself. You would think it stupid and humdrum, because the people are +peasants; but I am not sure that you are right. The elementary things, +you know, are the greatest, and those we have. Our young people fall in +love and marry. The joy of birth comes to our mothers, and the tragedy +of death looms over us all. Some go out into the world, some choose to +remain here. A passer-by may glance upward from the road at our little +hamlet, and wonder what can ever happen in such an out-of-the-way +corner. I think the answer is just what I have told you. Love and +marriage, birth and death happen. These things make life." + +Her curiosity now had become merged in an immense interest. She laid her +fingers lightly upon his arm. + +"You speak for your people," she said. "That is well. I can understand +their simple lives being as absorbing to them as ours are to us. I can +imagine how, here among your hills, you can watch as a spectator a cycle +of life which contains, as you have pointed out, every element of +tragedy and happiness. But you yourself?" + +"I am one of them," he answered, "a necessary part of them." + +"How you deceive yourself! I am sure you are honest, I am sure you +believe what you say, but will you remember what I am going to tell you? +The time will come, before very long, when you will feel doubts." + +"Doubts about what?" + +She smiled enigmatically. + +"Oh, they will assert themselves," she assured him, "and you will +recognize them when they come. Something will whisper to you in your +heart that after all you are not of the same clay as these simple +folk--that there is a different mission in the world for a man like you +than to play the part of feudal lord over a few peasants. Sooner or +later you will come out into the world; and the sooner the better, I +think, Mr. John Strangewey, or you will grow like your brother here +among your granite hills." + +He moved a little uneasily. All the time she was watching him. It seemed +to her that she could read the thoughts which were stirring in his +brain. + +"You would like to say, wouldn't you," she went on, "that your brother's +is a useful and an upright life? So it may be, but it is not wide enough +or great enough. No one should be content with the things which he can +reach. He should climb a little higher, and pluck the riper fruit. Some +day you will feel the desire to climb. Something will come to you--in +the night, perhaps, or on the bosom of that wind you love so much. It +may be a call of music, or it may be a more martial note. Promise me, +will you, that when you feel the impulse you won't use all that +obstinate will-power of yours to crush it? You will destroy the best +part of yourself, if you do. You will give it a chance? Promise!" + +She held out her hand with a little impulsive gesture. He took it in his +own, and held it steadfastly. + +"I will remember," he promised. + +Along the narrow streak of road, from the southward, they both watched +the rapid approach of a large motor-car. There were two servants upon +the front seat and one passenger--a man--inside. It swung into the level +stretch beneath them, a fantasy of gray and silver in the reflected +sunshine. + +Louise had been leaning forward, her head supported upon her hands. As +the car slackened speed, she rose very slowly to her feet. + +"The chariot of deliverance!" she murmured. + +"It is the Prince of Seyre," John remarked, gazing down with a slight +frown upon his forehead. + +She nodded. They had started the descent, and she was walking in very +leisurely fashion. + +"The prince is a great friend of mine," she said. "I had promised to +spend last night, or, at any rate, some portion of the evening, at +Raynham Castle on my way to London." + +He summoned up courage to ask her the question which had been on his +lips more than once. + +"As your stay with us is so nearly over, won't you abandon your +incognito?" + +"In the absence of your brother," she answered, "I will risk it. My name +is Louise Maurel." + +"Louise Maurel, the actress?" he repeated wonderingly. + +"I am she," Louise confessed. "Would your brother," she added, with a +little grimace, "feel that he had given me a night's lodging under false +pretense?" + +John made no immediate reply. The world had turned topsyturvy with him. +Louise Maurel, and a great friend of the Prince of Seyre! He walked on +mechanically until she turned and looked at him. + +"Well?" + +"I am sorry," he declared bluntly. + +"Why?" she asked, a little startled at his candor. + +"I am sorry, first of all, that you are a friend of the Prince of +Seyre." + +"And again why?" + +"Because of his reputation in these parts." + +"What does that mean?" she asked. + +"I am not a scandalmonger," John replied dryly. "I speak only of what I +know. His estates near here are systematically neglected. He is the +worst landlord in the country, and the most unscrupulous. His tenants, +both here and in Westmoreland, have to work themselves to death to +provide him with the means of living a disreputable life." + +"Are you not forgetting that the Prince of Seyre is a friend of mine?" +she asked stiffly. + +"I forget nothing," he answered. "You see, up here we have not learned +the art of evading the truth." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"So much for the Prince of Seyre, then. And now, why your dislike of my +profession?" + +"That is another matter," he confessed. "You come from a world of which +I know nothing. All I can say is that I would rather think of you--as +something different." + +She laughed at his somber face and patted his arm lightly. + +"Big man of the hills," she said, "when you come down from your frozen +heights to look for the flowers, I shall try to make you see things +differently!" + + + + + V + + +The prince, who had just been joined by Stephen, had descended from his +car and was waiting in the road when Louise and John approached. He came +a few paces forward to meet her, and held out both his hands. + +"My dear wandering guest!" he exclaimed. "So I have found you at last! +What shall I say to this mishap which has robbed me of so many hours of +your visit? I am too happy, though, to know that you have suffered no +personal inconvenience." + +"Thanks to the great kindness of my hosts," Louise replied, smiling a +little mockingly at Stephen, "I have been completely spoiled here, +prince, and I can only regard my accident as a delightful little +interlude." + +The prince bowed, and half held out his hand to Stephen. The latter, +however appeared not to notice the movement. + +"I shall always remember with gratitude," the prince declared, "the +kindness of Mr. Strangewey and his brother to my lost guest. I fear," he +went on regretfully, "that I do not seem very neighborly. I am not often +at Raynham Castle, except in August and September. I find your northern +air somewhat too severe for me." + +"Your tenants, prince," Stephen remarked calmly, "would like to see a +little more of you." + +The prince shrugged his shoulders. He was a man of medium height, +slender, with a long and almost colorless face. He carried himself with +the good-humored air of the man of the world among strange surroundings +toward which he desired to express his toleration. His clothes and voice +were perfectly English, although the latter was unusually slow and soft. +At first sight there was no apparent evidence of his foreign birth. He +turned once more toward Stephen. + +"My agent, Mr. Simon, is a very excellent man, and I have every +confidence in his discretion. My tenants here could scarcely feel toward +me as they might have done if Raynham had come into my possession in the +direct line. However, this year, as it happens, I have made up my mind +to spend more time here. My keepers tell me that after four bad seasons +the prospects for grouse on my higher moors are excellent. I shall +hope," he added, turning to John, "to have you join us often. I must +confess that the only time I had ever heard your name, before the +newspapers advertised your recent good fortune, was in connection with +shooting. They tell me that you are the best shot and the finest +horseman in Cumberland." + +"You were probably told that at Raynham," John remarked. "Our people +always exaggerate the prowess of their own folk, and my brother and I +are natives." + +"I trust," the prince concluded, "that you will give me the opportunity +of judging for myself. And now, dear lady," he went on, turning to +Louise, "I am loath to lose another minute of my promised visit. I have +taken the liberty of telling your maid to place your wraps in my car. We +can reach Raynham in time for a late lunch. Your own car can follow us +and bring your maid." + +For a moment Louise did not reply. The prince had moved a few steps +away, to give some directions to his chauffeur, and he saw nothing of +the strange look of indecision that had suddenly crept into her face. +Her eyebrows were contracted. She had turned, and was gazing up the +precipitous strip of moorland toward the gray-walled church. Then she +glanced at John Strangewey, and her eyes seemed filled with the +questioning of a child. It was as if she had abandoned the role of +mentor, as if she herself were seeking for guidance or help. + +John's unspoken response was prompt and unmistakable; and she smiled +ever so slightly. She no longer thought him narrow and prejudiced, an +unfair judge of things beyond his comprehension. He had helped her in a +moment of trial. An idea had flashed between them, and she acted upon it +with amazing promptitude. + +"Alas, prince," she sighed, as he turned back toward them, "I am so +sorry, but I fear that this little accident must change all my plans! As +you know, mine was to have been only a brief stay at Raynham, and I fear +now that even that is impossible." + +The prince drew a step nearer. Something of the calm suavity had +suddenly gone from his manner. When he spoke, his measured words were +full of appeal. + +"But, my dear friend," he begged, "you will not rob me altogether of +this visit, to which I have looked forward so eagerly? It was to receive +you for a few hours that I came from Paris and opened Raynham Castle. +You yourself shall decide the length of your stay, and a special train +shall take you back to London the moment you give the word. In that way +you will both save time and spare me--one of the greatest +disappointments of my life!" + +She shook her head, slowly and very decisively. + +"You cannot imagine how sorry I am, prince," she said, "but as it is I +must take a special train from Kendal, if there is not one starting +soon after I reach the station. I wish to reach London either this +evening or very early in the morning." + +The prince was holding himself in restraint with a visible effort. His +eyes were fixed upon Louise's face, as if trying to read her thoughts. + +"Is the necessity so urgent?" he asked. + +"Judge for yourself," she replied. "Henri Graillot is there, waiting for +me. You know how impatient he is, and all London is clamoring for his +play. Night to him is just the same as day. I shall telegraph from +Kendal the hour of my arrival." + +The prince sighed. + +"I think," he said quietly, "that I am the most unfortunate man in the +world! At least, then, you will permit me to drive you to Kendal? I +gather from your chauffeur that your car, although temporarily repaired, +is not altogether reliable." + +She answered him only after a slight hesitation. For some reason or +other, his proposition did not seem wholly welcome. + +"That will be very kind of you," she assented. + +"If we start at once," the prince suggested, "we shall catch the Scotch +mail." + +"You will surely lunch first--and you, prince?" John begged. + +She laid her hand upon his arm. + +"My friend, no," she replied. "I am feverishly anxious to get back to +London. Walk with me to the car. I will wave my adieus to Peak Hall when +we are up among the hills." + +She drew him on a few paces ahead. + +"I am going back to London," she continued, lowering her voice a little, +"with some very strange impressions and some very pleasant memories. I +feel that your life here is, in its way, very beautiful, and yet the +contemplation of your future fills me with an immense curiosity. I have +not talked to you for very long, Mr. Strangewey, and you may not be +quite the sort of person I think you are, but I am seldom mistaken. I am +an artist, you see, and we have perceptions. I think that even here the +time will come when the great unrest will seize you, too, in its toils. +Though the color may not fade from your hills, and though the +apple-blossom may still glorify your orchard, and your flowers bloom and +smell as sweetly, and your winds bring you the same music, I think that +the time will come when the note in you which answers to these things, +and which gives you contentment, will fail to respond. Then I think--I +hope, perhaps--that we may meet." + +She spoke very softly, almost under her breath, and when she had +finished there seemed everywhere a strange emptiness of sound. The +panting of the engine from the motor-car, Stephen's measured words as he +walked with his uncongenial companion, seemed to come to John from some +other world. + +His voice, when he spoke, sounded a little harsh. Although he was +denying it fiercely to himself, he was filled with a dim, harrowing +consciousness that the struggle had already begun. Notwithstanding the +unrealized joy of these few hours, his last words to Louise were almost +words of anger; his last look from beneath his level, close-drawn +eyebrows was almost militant. + +"I hope," he declared, "that what you have said may not be true. I hope +fervently that the time may never come when I shall feel that I need +anything more in life than I can find in the home I love, in the work +which is second nature to me, in my books and my sports!" + +The prince, escaping gracefully from a companion who remained adamant to +all his advances, had maneuvered his way to their side. The last few +steps were taken together. In a few moments they were in the car and +ready to start. Stephen, with a stiff little bow, had already departed. +Louise leaned out from her place with outstretched hands. + +"And now good-by, dear Mr. Strangewey! Your brother would not let me +make my little speech to him, so you must accept the whole of my thanks. +And," she went on, the corners of her mouth twitching a little, although +her face remained perfectly grave, "if the time should come when the +need of reinvestments, or of some new machinery for your farm, brings +you to London, will you promise that you will come and see me?" + +"I will promise that with much pleasure," John answered. + +She leaned back and the prince took her place, holding out his hand. + +"Mr. Strangewey, although your luck has been better than mine, and you +have robbed me of a visit to which I had looked forward for months, I +bear you no ill-will. I trust that you will do me the honor of shooting +with me before long. My head keeper arranges for the local guns, and I +shall see that he sends you a list of the days on which we shall shoot. +May I beg that you will select the most convenient to yourself? If you +have no car here, it will give me additional pleasure to welcome you at +Raynham as my guest." + +John, struggling against an instinctive dislike of which, for many +reasons, he was a little ashamed, murmured a few incoherent words. The +prince leaned back and the car glided away, followed, a few minutes +later, by Louise's own landaulet, with Aline in solitary state inside. + +John watched the little procession until it finally disappeared from +sight; then he turned on his heel and went into the house. Stephen, who +had just filled a pipe, was smoking furiously in the hall. + +"Have they gone?" he demanded. + +John nodded. + +"They are racing into Kendal to catch the Scotchman for London." + +"The sooner she gets there, the better," Stephen growled. + +John raised his head. The light of battle flashed for a moment in his +eyes. + +"She came here unbidden," he said, "and we did no more than our bounden +duty in entertaining her. For the rest, what is there that you can say +against her? Women there must be in the world. Why do you judge those +who come your way so harshly?" + +Stephen withdrew the pipe from his mouth and dealt the black oak table +in front of him a blow with his great fist. Even John himself was struck +with the sudden likeness of his brother's face to the granite rocks +which were piled around their home. + +"I'll answer your question, John," he said. "I'll tell you the truth as +I see it and as I know it. Women there must be to breed men's sons, to +care for their households; even, I grant you, to be their companions and +to lighten the dark days when sorrow comes. But she isn't that sort. She +is as far removed from them as our mountain road is from the scented +thoroughfares of Bond Street or the Rue de la Paix, where she might take +her daily exercise. I'll tell you about her, John. She is one of those +who have sown the hatred of women in my heart. Do you know what I call +them, John? I call them witch-women. There's something of the devil in +their blood. They call themselves artists. They have the gift of turning +the heads and spoiling the lives of sober, well-living men, till they +make them dance to their bidding along the ways of shame, and turn their +useful lives into the dotage of a love-sick boy. They aren't +child-bearing women, that sort! They don't want to take their proper +place in your household by your side, breed sons and daughters for you, +sink their own lives in the greater duties of motherhood. There's +generally a drop of devilish foreign blood in their veins, as she has. +Our grandmother had it. You know the result. The empty frame in the +lumber-room will tell you." + +John, half angry, half staggered by his brother's vehemence, was for the +moment a little confused. + +"There may be women like that, Stephen," he confessed. "I am not denying +the truth of much that you say. But what right have you to class her +among them? What do you know of her?" + +"It's written in her face," Stephen answered fiercely. "Women like her +breathe it from their lips when they speak, just as it shines out of +their eyes when they look at you. An actress, and a friend of the Prince +of Seyre! A woman who thought it worth her while, during her few hours' +stay here--" John had suddenly straightened himself. Stephen clenched +his teeth. "Curse it, that's enough!" he said. "She's gone, anyway. +Come, let's have our lunch!" + + + + + VI + + +Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain road lay empty under +the moonlight. Three months had passed, and none of the mystery of the +earlier season in the year remained. The hills had lost their canopy of +soft, gray mist. Nature had amplified and emphasized herself. The whole +outline of the country was marvelously distinct. The more distant +mountains, as a rule blurred and uncertain in shape, seemed now to +pierce with their jagged summits the edge of the star-filled sky. + +Up the long slope, where three months before he had ridden to find +himself confronted with the adventure of his life, John Strangewey +jogged homeward in his high dog-cart. The mare, scenting her stable, +broke into a quick trot as they topped the long rise. Suddenly she felt +a hand tighten upon her reins. She looked inquiringly around, and then +stood patiently awaiting her master's bidding. + +It seemed to John as if he had passed from the partial abstraction of +the last few hours into absolute and entire forgetfulness of the +present. He could see the motor-car drawn up by the side of the road, +could hear the fretful voice of the maid, and the soft, pleasant words +of greeting from the woman who had seemed from the first as if she were +very far removed indeed from any of the small annoyances of their +accident. + +"I have broken down. Can you help?" + +He set his teeth. The poignancy of the recollection was a torture to +him. Word by word he lived again through that brief interview. He saw +her descend from the car, felt the touch of her hand on his arm, saw the +flash of her brown eyes as she drew close to him with that pleasant +little air of familiarity, shared by no other woman he had ever known. + +Then the little scene faded away, and he remembered the tedious present. +He had spent two dull days at the house of a neighboring landowner, +playing cricket in the daytime, dancing at night with women in whom he +was unable to feel the slightest interest, always with that far-away +feeling in his heart, struggling hour by hour with that curious +restlessness which seemed to have taken a permanent place in his +disposition. He was on his way home to Peak Hall. He knew exactly the +welcome which was awaiting him. He knew exactly the news he would +receive. He raised his whip and cracked it viciously in the air. + +Stephen was waiting for him, as he had expected, in the dining room. The +elder Strangewey was seated in his accustomed chair, smoking his pipe +and reading the paper. The table was laid for a meal, which Jennings was +preparing to serve. + +"Back again, John?" his brother remarked, looking at him fixedly over +his newspaper. + +John picked up one or two letters, glanced them over, and flung them +down upon the table. He had examined every envelope for the last few +months with the same expectancy, and thrown each one down with the same +throb of disappointment. + +"As you see." + +"Had a good time?" + +"Not very. We were too strong for them. They came without a bowler at +all." + +"Did you get a good knock?" + +"A hundred and seven," John replied. "It was just a slog, though. +Nothing to eat, thank you, Jennings. You can clear the table so far as I +am concerned. I had supper with the Greys. Have they finished the +barley-fields, Stephen?" + +"All in at eight o'clock." + +There was a brief silence. Then Stephen knocked the ashes from his pipe +and rose to his feet. + +"John," he asked, "why did you pull up on the road there?" + +There was no immediate answer. The slightest of frowns formed itself +upon the younger man's face. + +"How did you know that I pulled up?" + +"I was sitting with the window open, listening for you. I came outside +to see what had happened, and I saw your lights standing still." + +"I had a fancy to stop for a moment," John said; "nothing more." + +"You aren't letting your thoughts dwell upon that woman?" + +"I have thought about her sometimes," John answered, almost defiantly. +"What's the harm? I'm still here, am I not?" + +Stephen crossed the room. From the drawer of the old mahogany sideboard +he produced an illustrated paper. He turned back the frontispiece +fiercely and held it up. + +"Do you see that, John?" + +"I've seen it already." + +Stephen threw the paper upon the table. + +"She's going to act in another of those confounded French plays," he +said; "translations with all the wit taken out and all the vulgarity +left in." + +"We know nothing of her art," John declared coldly. "We shouldn't +understand it, even if we saw her act. Therefore, it isn't right for us +to judge her. The world has found her a great actress. She is not +responsible for the plays she acts in." + +Stephen turned away and lit his pipe anew. He smoked for a minute or two +furiously. His thick eyebrows came closer and closer together. He seemed +to be turning some thought over in his mind. + +"John," he asked, "is it this cursed money that is making you restless?" + +"I never think of it except when some one comes begging. I promised a +thousand pounds to the infirmary to-day." + +"Then what's wrong with you?" + +John stretched himself out, a splendid figure of healthy manhood. His +cheeks were sun-tanned, his eyes clear and bright. + +"The matter? There's nothing on earth the matter with me," he declared. + +"It isn't your health I mean. There are other things, as you well know. +You do your day's work and you take your pleasure, and you go through +both as if your feet were on a treadmill." + +"Your fancy, Stephen!" + +"God grant it! I've had an unwelcome visitor in your absence." + +John turned swiftly around. + +"A visitor?" he repeated. "Who was it?" + +Stephen glowered at him for a moment. + +"It was the prince," he said; "the Prince of Seyre, as he calls himself, +though he has the right to style himself Master of Raynham. It's only +his foreign blood which makes him choose what I regard as the lesser +title. Yes, he called to ask you to shoot and stay at the castle, if +you would, from the 16th to the 20th of next month." + +"What answer did you give him?" + +"I told him that you were your own master. You must send word +to-morrow." + +"He did not mention the names of any of his other guests, I suppose?" + +"He mentioned no names at all." + +John was silent for a moment. A bewildering thought had taken hold of +him. Supposing she were to be there! + +Stephen, watching him, read his thoughts, and for a moment lost control +of himself. + +"Were you thinking about that woman?" he asked sternly. + +"What woman?" + +"The woman whom we sheltered here, the woman whose shameless picture is +on the cover of that book." + +John swung round on his heel. + +"Stop that, Stephen!" he said menacingly. + +"Why should I?" the older man retorted. "Take up that paper, if you want +to read a sketch of the life of Louise Maurel. See the play she made her +name in--'La Gioconda'!" + +"What about it?" + +Stephen held the paper out to his brother. John read a few lines and +dashed it into a corner of the room. + +"There's this much about it, John," Stephen continued. "The woman played +that part night after night--played it to the life, mind you. She made +her reputation in it. That's the woman we unknowingly let sleep beneath +this roof! The barn is the place for her and her sort!" + +John's clenched fists were held firmly to his sides. His eyes were +blazing. + +"That's enough, Stephen!" he cried. + +"No, it's not enough!" was the fierce reply. "The truth's been burning +in my heart long enough. It's better out. You want to find her a guest +at Raynham Castle, do you?--Raynham Castle, where never a decent woman +crosses the threshold! If she goes there, she goes as his mistress. +Well?" + +An anger that was almost paralyzing, a sense of the utter impotence of +words, drove John in silence from the room. He left the house by the +back door, passed quickly through the orchard, where the tangled +moonlight lay upon the ground in strange, fantastic shadows; across the +narrow strip of field, a field now of golden stubble; up the rough +ascent, across the road, and higher still up the hill which looked down +upon the farm-buildings and the churchyard. + +He sat grimly down upon a great boulder, filled with a hateful sense of +unwreaked passion, yet with a queer thankfulness in his heart that he +had escaped the miasma of evil thoughts which Stephen's words seemed to +have created. The fancy seized him to face these half-veiled suggestions +of his brother's, so far as they concerned himself and his life during +the last few months. + +Stephen was right. This woman who had dropped from the clouds for those +few brief hours had played strange havoc with John's thoughts and his +whole outlook upon life. The coming of harvest, the care of his people, +his sports, his cricket, the early days upon the grouse moors, had all +suddenly lost their interest for him. Life had become a task. The echo +of her half-mocking, half-challenging words was always in his ears. + +He sat with his head resting upon his hands, looking steadfastly across +the valley below. Almost at his feet lay the little church with its +graveyard, the long line of stacks and barns, the laborers' cottages, +the bailiff's house, the whole little colony around which his life +seemed centered. The summer moonlight lay upon the ground almost like +snow. He could see the sheaves of wheat standing up in the most distant +of the cornfields. Beyond was the dark gorge toward which he had looked +so many nights at this hour. + +Across the viaduct there came a blaze of streaming light, a serpentlike +trail, a faintly heard whistle--the Scottish Express on its way +southward toward London. His eyes followed it out of sight. He found +himself thinking of the passengers who would wake the next morning in +London. He felt himself suddenly acutely conscious of his isolation. Was +there not something almost monastic in the seclusion which had become a +passion with Stephen, and which had its grip, too, upon him--a waste of +life, a burying of talents? + +He rose to his feet. The half-formed purpose of weeks held him now, +definite and secure. He knew that this pilgrimage of his to the hilltop, +his rapt contemplation of the little panorama which had become so dear +to him, was in a sense valedictory. + + * * * * * + +After all, two more months passed before the end came, and it came then +without a moment's warning. It was a little past midday when John drove +slowly through the streets of Market Ketton in his high dogcart, +exchanging salutations right and left with the tradespeople, with +farmers brought into town by the market, with acquaintances of all sorts +and conditions. More than one young woman from the shop-windows or the +pavements ventured to smile at him, and the few greetings he received +from the wives and daughters of his neighbors were as gracious as they +could possibly be made. John almost smiled once, in the act of raising +his hat, as he realized how completely the whole charm of the world, for +him, seemed to lie in one woman's eyes. + +At the crossways, where he should have turned up to the inn, he paused +while a motor-car passed. It contained a woman, who was talking to her +host. She was not in the least like Louise, and yet instinctively he +knew that she was of the same world. The perfection of her white-serge +costume, her hat so smartly worn, the half-insolent smile, the little +gesture with which she raised her hand--something about her unlocked the +floodgates. + +Market Ketton had seemed well enough a few minutes ago. John had felt a +healthy appetite for his midday meal, and a certain interest concerning +a deal of barley upon which he was about to engage. And now another +world had him in its grip. He flicked the mare with his whip, turned +away from the inn, and galloped up to the station, keeping pace with the +train whose whistle he had heard. Standing outside was a local +horse-dealer of his acquaintance. + +"Take the mare back for me to Peak Hall, will you, Jenkins, or send one +of your lads?" he begged. "I want to catch this train." + +The man assented with pleasure--it paid to do a kindness for a +Strangewey. John passed through the ticket-office to the platform, where +the train was waiting, threw open the door of a carriage, and flung +himself into a corner seat. The whistle sounded. The adventure of his +life had begun at last. + + + + + VII + + +The great French dramatist, dark, pale-faced, and corpulent, stood upon +the extreme edge of the stage, brandishing his manuscript in his hand. +From close at hand, the stage manager watched him anxiously. For the +third time M. Graillot was within a few inches of the orchestra-well. + +"If you would pardon me, M. Graillot," he ventured timidly, "the +footlights are quite unprotected, as you see." + +Graillot glanced behind him and promptly abandoned his dangerous +position. + +"It is you, ladies and gentlemen," he declared, shaking his manuscript +vigorously at the handful of people upon the stage, "who drive me into +forgetfulness and place me in the danger from which our friend here has +just rescued me. Do I not best know the words and the phrases which will +carry the messages of my play across the footlights? Who is to judge, +ladies and gentlemen--you or I?" + +He banged the palm of his left hand with the rolled-up manuscript and +looked at them all furiously. A slight, middle-aged man, clean-shaven, +with a single eyeglass, and features very well known to the theatergoing +world, detached himself a little from the others. + +"No one indeed, dear M. Graillot," he admitted, "could possibly know +these things so well as you; but, on the other hand, when you write in +your study at Fontainebleau you write for a quicker-minded public than +ours. The phrase which would find its way at once to the brain of the +French audience needs, shall I say, just a little amplification to carry +equal weight across the footlights of my theater. I will admit that we +are dealing with a translation which is, in its way, not sufficiently +literal, but our friend Shamus here has pointed out to me the +difficulties. The fact is, M. Graillot, that some of the finest phrases +in your work are untranslatable." + +"There are times," the dramatist asserted, moistening his lips +vigorously with his tongue, "when I regret that I ever suffered Mr. +Shamus or anybody else to attempt to translate my inimitable play into a +language wholly inadequate to express its charm and subtlety!" + +"Quite so," the actor remarked sympathetically; "but still, since the +deed has been done, M. Graillot, and since we are going to produce the +result in the course of a fortnight or so, or lose a great deal of +money, don't you think that we had all better try our utmost to insure +the success of the production?" + +"The only success I care for," Graillot thundered, "is an artistic +success!" + +"With Miss Maurel playing your leading part, M. Graillot," the +actor-manager declared, "not to speak of a company carefully selected to +the best of my judgment, I think you may venture to anticipate even +that." + +The dramatist bowed hurriedly to Louise. + +"You recall to me a fact," he said gallantly, "which almost reconciles +me to this diabolical travesty of some of my lines. Proceed, +then--proceed! I will be as patient as possible." + +The stage manager shouted out some directions from his box. A gentleman +in faultless morning clothes, who seemed to have been thoroughly +enjoying the interlude, suddenly adopted the puppetlike walk of a +footman. Other actors, who had been whispering together in the wings, +came back to their places. Louise advanced alone, a little languidly, to +the front of the stage. At the first sound of her voice M. Graillot, +nodding his head vigorously, was soothed. + +Her speech was a long one. It appeared that she had been arraigned +before a company of her relatives, assembled to comment upon her +misdeeds. She wound up with a passionate appeal to her husband, Mr. +Miles Faraday, who had made an unexpected appearance. M. Graillot's +face, as she concluded, was wreathed in smiles. + +"Ah!" he cried. "You have lifted us all up! Now I feel once more the +inspiration. _Mademoiselle_, I kiss your hand," he went on. "It is you +who still redeem my play. You bring back the spirit of it to me. In you +I see the embodiment of my _Therese_." + +Miles Faraday gave a little sigh of relief and glanced gratefully toward +Louise. She nodded back to him and gave her hand to the Frenchman, who +held it to his lips. + +"You flatter me, M. Graillot," she said. "It is simply that I feel the +force of your beautiful words. _Therese_ is a wonderful conception! As +to those disputed passages--well, I feel myself in a very difficult +position. Artistically, I am entirely in accord with you, and yet I +understand exactly what Mr. Faraday means from the commercial point of +view. Let us submit the matter to the prince. He knows something of both +sides of the question." + +The Prince of Seyre, who was seated in the orchestra-leader's chair, +looked reproachfully toward Louise. + +"Is this fair?" he protested. "Remember that I am more than half a +Frenchman, and that I am one of our friend's most faithful disciples. I +realize the delicacy of the situation, and I understand Mr. Faraday's +point of view. I tell you frankly that the thought of an empty theater +appals me. It is not the money--I am sure you all know that--but there +isn't a single man or woman in the world who can do his best unless he +or she plays to a full house. Somehow or other, we must secure our +audience." + +"It really comes to this," Faraday intervened. "Shall we achieve a +purely artistic triumph and drive the people away? Or shall we--at the +expense, I admit, of some of the finest passages in M. Graillot's superb +drama--compromise the matter and keep our box-office open? In a more +humble way I hope I also may call myself an artist; and yet not only +must I live myself, but I have a staff of employees dependent upon me." + +Graillot waved his hand. + +"So! No more!" he exclaimed grandiloquently. "The affair is finished. My +consent is given. Delete the lines! As to the scene laid in the bedroom +of _madame_, to-night I shall take up my pen. By noon to-morrow I will +give you a revision which will puff out the cheeks of the Philistines +with satisfaction. Have no fear, _cher ami_ Faraday! Mothers shall bring +their unmarried daughters to see our play. They shall all watch it +without a blush. If there is anything to make the others think, it shall +be beneath the surface. It shall be for the great artist whom it is my +supreme joy to watch," he went on, bowing to Louise, "to act and express +the real truth of my ideas through the music of innocent words." + +"Then all is arranged," Miles Faraday concluded briskly. "We will leave +the second act until tomorrow; then M. Graillot will bring us his +revision. We will proceed now to the next act. Stand back a little, if +you please, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Maurel, will you make your +entrance?" + +Louise made no movement. Her eyes were fixed upon a certain shadowy +corner of the wings. Overwrought as she had seemed a few minutes ago, +with the emotional excitement of her long speech, there was now a new +and curious expression upon her face. She seemed to be looking beyond +the gloomy, unlit spaces of the theater into some unexpected land. + +Curiously enough, the three people there most interested in her--the +prince, Graillot, and her friend, Sophy Gerard--each noticed the change. +The little fair-haired girl, who owed her small part in the play to +Louise, quitted her chair to follow the direction of her friend's eyes. +Faraday, with the frown of an actor-manager resenting an intrusion, +gazed in the same direction. + +To Sophy, the newcomer was simply the handsomest young man she had ever +seen in her life. To Faraday he represented nothing more nor less than +the unwelcome intruder. The prince alone, with immovable features, but +with a slight contraction of his eyebrows, gazed with distrust, almost +with fear, unaccountable yet disturbing, at the tall hesitating figure +that stood just off the stage. + +Louise only knew that she was amazed at herself, amazed to find the +walls of the theater falling away from her. She forgot the little +company of her friends by whom she was surrounded. She forgot the +existence of the famous dramatist who hung upon her words, and the +close presence of the prince. Her feet no longer trod the dusty boards +of the theater. She was almost painfully conscious of the perfume of +apple-blossom. + +"You!" she exclaimed, stretching out her hands. "Why do you not come and +speak to me? I am here!" + +John came out upon the stage. The French dramatist, with his hands +behind his back, made swift mental notes of an interesting situation. He +saw the coming of a man who stood like a giant among them, sunburnt, +buoyant with health, his eyes bright with the wonder of his unexpected +surroundings; a man in whose presence every one else seemed to represent +an effete and pallid type of humanity. + +The dramatist and the prince were satisfied, however, with one single +glance at the newcomer. Afterward, their whole regard was focused upon +Louise. The same thought was in the mind of both of them--the same +fear! + + + + + VIII + + +Those first few sentences, spoken in the midst of a curious little crowd +of strangers, seemed to John, when he thought of his long waiting, +almost piteously inadequate. Louise, recognizing the difficulty of the +situation, swiftly recovered her composure. She was both tactful and +gracious. + +"Do tell me how you got in here," she said. "No one is allowed to pass +the stage door at rehearsal times. Mr. Faraday, to whom I will introduce +you in a moment, is a perfect autocrat; and Mr. Mullins, our stage +manager, is even worse." + +"I just asked for you," John explained. "The doorkeeper told me that you +were engaged, but I persuaded him to let me come in." + +She shook her head. + +"Bribery!" she declared accusingly. + +"I heard your voice, and after that it was hard to go away. I'm afraid I +ought to have waited outside." + +Louise turned to Miles Faraday, who was looking a little annoyed. + +"Mr. Faraday," she said appealingly, "Mr. Strangewey comes from the +country--he is, in fact, the most complete countryman I have ever met in +my life. He comes from Cumberland, and he once--well, very nearly saved +my life. He knows nothing about theaters, and he hasn't the least idea +of the importance of a rehearsal. You won't mind if we put him +somewhere out of the way till we have finished, will you?" + +"After such an introduction," Faraday said in a tone of resignation, +"Mr. Strangewey would be welcome at any time." + +"There's a dear man!" Louise exclaimed. "Let me introduce him quickly. +Mr. John Strangewey--Mr. Miles Faraday, M. Graillot, Miss Sophy Gerard, +my particular little friend. The prince you already know, although you +may not recognize him trying to balance himself on that absurd stool." + +John bowed in various directions, and Faraday, taking him good-naturedly +by the arm, led him to a garden-seat at the back of the stage. + +"There!" he said. "You are one of the most privileged persons in London. +You shall hear the finish of our rehearsal. There isn't a press man in +London I'd have near the place." + +"Very kind of you, I'm sure," John replied. "Is this, may I ask, the +play that you are soon going to produce?" + +"Three weeks from next Monday, I hope," Faraday told him. "Don't attempt +to judge by anything you hear this afternoon. We are just deciding upon +some cuts. See you later. You may smoke, if you like." + +Twenty-four hours away from his silent hills, John looked out with +puzzled eyes from his dusty seat among ropes and pulleys and leaning +fragments of scenery. What he saw and heard seemed to him, for the most +part, a meaningless tangle of gestures and phrases. The men and women in +fashionable clothes, moving about before that gloomy space of empty +auditorium, looked more like marionettes than creatures of flesh and +blood, drawn this way and that at the bidding of the stout, masterly +Frenchman, who was continually muttering exclamations and banging the +manuscript upon his hand. + +He kept his eyes fixed upon Louise. He told himself that he was in her +presence at last. As the moments passed, it became more and more +difficult for him to realize the actuality of the scene upon which he +was looking. It seemed like a dream-picture, with unreal men and women +moving about aimlessly, saying strange words. + +Then there came a moment which brought a tingle into his blood, which +plunged his senses into hot confusion. He rose to his feet. Faraday was +sitting down, and Louise was resting both her hands upon his shoulders. + +"Is there nothing I can be to you, then, Edmund?" she asked, her voice +vibrating with a passion which he found it hard to believe was not real. + +Faraday turned slowly in his chair. He held out his arms. + +"One thing," he murmured. + +John had moved half a step forward when he felt the prince's eyes fixed +upon him, and was conscious of a sudden sense of ignorance, almost of +uncouthness. It was a play which they were rehearsing, of course! It was +a damnable thing to see Louise taken into that cold and obviously unreal +embrace, but it was only a play. It was part of her work. + +John resumed his seat and folded his arms. With the embrace had fallen +an imaginary curtain, and the rehearsal was over. They were all crowded +together, talking, in the center of the stage. The prince, who had +stepped across the footlights, made his way to where John was sitting. + +"So you have deserted Cumberland for a time?" he courteously inquired. + +"I came up last night," John replied. + +"You are making a long stay?" + +John hesitated. He felt that no one knew less of his movements than he +himself. His eyes had wandered to where Louise and Graillot were +talking. + +"I can scarcely tell yet. I have made no plans." + +"London, at this season of the year," the prince observed, "is scarcely +at its best." + +John smiled. + +"I am afraid," he said, "that I am not critical. It is eight years since +I was here last, on my way down from Oxford." + +"You have been abroad, perhaps?" the prince inquired. + +"I have not been out of Cumberland during the whole of that time," John +confessed. + +The prince, after a moment's incredulous stare, laughed softly to +himself. + +"You are a very wonderful person, Mr. Strangewey," he declared. "I have +heard of your good fortune. If I can be of any service to you during +your stay in town," he added politely, "please command me." + +"You are very kind," John replied gratefully. + +Louise broke away from the little group and came across toward them. + +"Free at last!" she exclaimed. "Now let us go out and have some tea." + +They made their way down the little passage and out into the sudden +blaze of the sunlit streets. Two cars were drawn up outside the stage +door. + +"The Carlton or Rumpelmayer's?" asked the prince, who had overtaken them +upon the pavement. + +"The Carlton, I think," Louise decided. "We can get a quiet table there +inside the restaurant. You bring Sophy, will you, Eugene? I am going to +take possession of Mr. Strangewey." + +The prince, with a little bow, pointed to the door of his limousine, +which a footman was holding open. Louise led John to a smaller car which +was waiting in the rear. + +"The Carlton," she told the man, as he arranged the rugs. "And now," she +added, turning to John, "why have you come to London? How long are you +going to stay? What are you going to do? And--most important of all--in +what spirit have you come?" + +John breathed a little sigh of contentment. They were moving slowly down +a back street to take their place in the tide of traffic which flooded +the main thoroughfares. + +"That sounds so like you," he said. "I came up last night, suddenly. I +have no idea how long I am going to stay; I have no idea what I am going +to do. As for the spirit in which I have come--well, I should call it an +inquiring one." + +"A very good start," Louise murmured approvingly, "but still a little +vague!" + +"Then I will do away with all vagueness. I came to see you," John +confessed bluntly. + +"Dear me!" she exclaimed, looking at him with a little smile. "How +downright you are!" + +"Country methods," he reminded her. + +"Don't overdo it," she begged. + +"The truth--" he began. + +"Has to be handled very carefully," she said, interrupting him. "The +truth is either beautiful or crude, and the people who meddle with such +a wonderful thing need a great deal of tact. You have come to see me, +you say. Very well, then, I will be just as frank. I have been hoping +that you would come!" + +"You can't imagine how good it is to hear you say that," he declared. + +"Mind," she went on, "I have been hoping it for more reasons than one. +You have come to realize, I hope, that it is your duty to try to see a +little more of life than you possibly can leading a patriarchal +existence among your flocks and herds." + +"That may be so," John assented. "I have often thought of our +conversation. I don't know, even now, whether you were right or wrong. I +only know that since you went away I have felt something of the unrest +with which you threatened me. I want to settle the matter one way or the +other. I want to try, for a little time, what it is like to live in the +crowded places, to be near you, to see, if I may, more of you and your +way of living." + +They were silent for several moments. + +"I thought you would come," Louise said at last; "and I am glad, but +even in these first few minutes I want to say something to you. If you +wish to succeed in your object, and really understand the people you +meet here and the life they lead, don't be like your brother--too quick +to judge. Do not hug your prejudices too tightly. You will come across +many problems, many situations which will seem strange to you. Do not +make up your mind about anything in a hurry." + +"I will remember that," he promised. "You must remember, though, that I +don't expect ever to become a convert. I believe I am a countryman, bred +and born. Still, there are some things that I want to understand, if I +can, and, more than anything else--I want to see you!" + +She faced his direct speech this time with more deliberation. + +"Tell me exactly why." + +"If I could tell you that," he replied simply, "I should be able to +answer for myself the riddle which has kept me awake at night for weeks +and months, which has puzzled me more than anything else in life has +ever done." + +"You really have thought of me, then?" + +"Didn't you always know that I should?" + +"Perhaps," she admitted. "Anyhow, I always felt that we should meet +again, that you would come to London. The problem is," she added, +smiling, "what to do with you now you are here." + +"I haven't come to be a nuisance," he assured her. "I just want a little +help from you." + +She became indiscreet. She looked at him with a little smile at the +corners of her lips. + +"Nothing else?" she asked, almost under her breath. + +"At the end of it all, yes," he answered simply. "I want to understand +because it is your world. I want to feel myself nearer to you. I want--" + +She gripped at his arm suddenly. She knew well enough that she had +deliberately provoked his words, but there was a look in her face almost +of fear. + +"Don't let us be too serious all at once," she begged quickly. "If you +have one fault, my dear big friend from the country," she went on, with +a swiftly assumed gaiety, "it is that you are too serious for your +years. Sophy and I between us must try to cure you of that! You see, we +have arrived." + +He handed her out, followed her across the pavement, and found himself +plunged into what seemed to him to be an absolute vortex of human +beings, all dressed in very much the same fashion, all laughing and +talking together very much in the same note, all criticising every fresh +group of arrivals with very much the same eyes and manner. The +palm-court was crowded with little parties seated at the various round +tables, partaking languidly of the most indolent meal of the day. Even +the broad passageway was full of men and women, standing about talking +or looking for tables. One could scarcely hear the music of the +orchestra for the babel of voices. + +The Prince of Seyre beckoned to them from the steps. He seemed to have +been awaiting their arrival there--a cold, immaculate, and, considering +his lack of height, a curiously distinguished-looking figure. + +"I have a table inside," he told them as they approached. "It is better +for conversation. The rest of the place is like a beer-garden. I am not +sure if they will dance here to-day, but if they do, they will come also +into the restaurant." + +"Wise man!" Louise declared. "I, too, hate the babel outside." + +They were ushered to a round table directly before the entrance, and a +couple of attentive waiters stood behind their chairs. + +"We are faced," said the prince, as he took up the menu, "with our daily +problem. What can I order for you?" + +"A cup of chocolate," Louise replied. + +"And Miss Sophy?" + +"Tea, please." + +John, too, preferred tea; the prince ordered absinth. + +"A polyglot meal, isn't it, Mr. Strangewey?" said Louise, as the order +was executed; "not in the least; what that wonderful old butler of yours +would understand by tea. We become depraved in our appetites, as well as +in our sensations. We are always seeking for something new. Sophy, put +your hat on straight if you want to make a good impression on Mr. +Strangewey. I am hoping that you two will be great friends." + +Sophy turned toward John with a little grimace. + +"Louise is so tactless!" she said. "I am sure any idea you might have +had of liking me will have gone already. Has it, Mr. Strangewey?" + +"On the contrary," he replied, a little stiffly, but without hesitation, +"I was thinking that Miss Maurel could scarcely have set me a more +pleasant task." + +The girl looked reproachfully across at her friend. + +"You told me he came from the wilds and was quite unsophisticated!" she +exclaimed. + +"The truth," John assured them, looking with dismay at his little china +cup, "comes very easily to us. We are brought up on it in Cumberland." + +"Positively nourished on it," Louise agreed. "My dear Sophy, what he +says is quite true. Up there a man would tell you that he didn't like +the cut of your new blouse or the droop of your hat. It's a wonderful +atmosphere, and very austere. You ought to meet Mr. Strangewey's +brother, if you want to know the truth about yourself. Do go on looking +about you, Mr. Strangewey; and when you have finished, tell us just what +you are thinking." + +"Well, just at that moment," he replied, "I was thinking that I ought +not to have come here in these clothes." + +The girl by his side laughed reassuringly. + +"As a matter of fact, you couldn't have done anything more successful," +she declared. "The one thing up here that every one would like to do if +he dared is to be different from his fellows; but very few have the +necessary courage. Besides, at heart we are all so frightfully, +hatefully imitative. The last great success was the prince, when he wore +a black stock with a dinner-coat; but, alas, next evening there were +forty or fifty of them! If you come here to tea to-morrow afternoon, I +dare say you will find dozens of men wearing gray tweed clothes, colored +shirts, and brown boots. I am sure they are most becoming!" + +"Don't chatter too much, child," Louise said benignly. "I want to hear +some more of Mr. Strangewey's impressions. This is--well, if not quite a +fashionable crowd, yet very nearly so. What do you think of it--the +women, for instance?" + +"Well, to me," John confessed candidly, "they all look like dolls or +manikins. Their dresses and their hats overshadow their faces. They seem +all the time to be wanting to show, not themselves, but what they have +on." + +They all laughed. Even the prince's lips were parted by the flicker of a +smile. Sophy leaned across the table with a sigh. + +"Louise," she pleaded, "you will lend him to me sometimes, won't you? +You won't keep him altogether to yourself? There are such a lot of +places I want to take him to!" + +"I was never greedy," Louise remarked, with an air of self-satisfaction. +"If you succeed in making a favorable impression upon him, I promise you +your share." + +"Tell us some more of your impressions, Mr. Strangewey," Sophy begged. + +"You want to laugh at me," John protested good-humoredly. + +"On the contrary," the prince assured him, as he fitted a cigarette into +a long, amber tube, "they want to laugh with you. You ought to realize +your value as a companion in these days. You are the only person who can +see the truth. Eyes and tastes blurred with custom perceive so little. +You are quite right when you say that these women are like manikins; +that their bodies and faces are lost; but one does not notice it until +it is pointed out." + +"We will revert," Louise decided, "to a more primitive life. You and I +will inaugurate a missionary enterprise, Mr. Strangewey. We will judge +the world afresh. We will reclothe and rehabilitate it." + +The prince flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. + +"Morally as well as sartorially?" he asked. + +There was a moment's rather queer silence. The music rose above the +hubbub of voices and died away again. Louise rose to her feet. + +"Quite an intelligent person, really," she said, moving her head in the +direction of the prince. "His little attacks of cynicism come only with +indigestion or after absinth. Now, if you like, you shall escort me +home, Mr. Strangewey. I want to show him exactly where I live," she +explained, addressing the others, "so that he will have no excuse for +not coming to pay his respects to me to-morrow afternoon." + +The prince, with a skilful maneuver, made his way to her side as they +left the restaurant. + +"To-morrow afternoon, I think you said?" he repeated quietly. "You will +be in town then?" + +"Yes, I think so." + +"You have changed your mind, then, about--" + +"M. Graillot will not listen to my leaving London," she interrupted +rapidly. "He declares that it is too near the production of the play. My +own part may be perfect, but he needs me for the sake of the others. He +puts it like a Frenchman, of course." + +They had reached the outer door, which was being held open for them by a +bowing commissionnaire. John and Sophy were waiting upon the pavement. +The prince drew a little back. + +"I understand!" he murmured. + + + + + IX + + +The first few minutes that John spent in Louise's little house were full +of acute and vivid interest. From the moment of his first meeting with +Louise upon the moonlit Cumberland road, during the whole of that next +wonderful morning until their parting, and afterward, through all the +long, dreaming days and nights that had intervened, she had remained a +mystery to him. It was amazing how little he really knew of her. During +his journey to town, he had sat with folded arms in the corner of his +compartment, wondering whether in her own environment he would find her +easier to understand. + +He asked himself that question again now, as he found himself in her +drawing-room, in a room entirely redolent of her personality. Their +meeting at the theater had told him nothing. She had gratified his +sentiment by the pleasure she had shown at his unexpected appearance, +but his understanding remained unsatisfied. + +The room that he was so eagerly studying confirmed his cloudy +impressions of its owner. There was, for a woman's apartment, a curious +absence of ornamentation and knickknacks. The walls were black and +white, an idea fantastic in its way, yet carried out with extreme +lightness in the ceiling and frieze. The carpet was white; the +furniture, of which there was very little, of the French period before +the rococo type, graceful in its outline, rather heavy in build, and +covered with old-rose colored chintz. There were water-colors upon the +wall, an etching or two from a Parisian studio, and some small +black-and-white fantasies, puzzling to John, who had never even heard +the term Futurist, yet in their way satisfactory. + +There was a small-sized grand piano, which seemed to have found its way +almost apologetically into a remote corner; a delightful open fireplace +with rough, white tiles, and an old-fashioned brass box, in which was +piled a little heap of sweet-smelling wood blocks. A table, drawn up to +the side of one of the easy chairs, was covered with books and +magazines, some Italian, a few English, the greater part French; and +upon a smaller one, close at hand, stood a white bowl full of pink +roses. Their odor was somehow reminiscent of Louise, curiously sweet and +wholesome--an odor which suddenly took him back to the morning when she +had come to him from under the canopy of apple-blossom. + +He drew a little sigh of contentment as he rose to his feet and walked +to the window. The room charmed him. It was wonderful that he should +find it like this. His heart began to beat with pleasure even before the +opening of the door announced her presence. She came in with Sophy, who +at once seated herself by his side. + +"We have been making plans," Louise declared, "for disposing of you for +the rest of the day." + +John smiled happily. + +"You're not sending me away, then? You're not acting this evening?" + +"Not until three weeks next Monday," she replied. "Then, if you are +good, and the production is not postponed, you may seat yourself in a +box and make all the noise you like after the fall of the curtain. These +are real holidays for me, except for the nuisance of rehearsals. You +couldn't have come at a better time." + +Sophy glanced at the clock. + +"Well," she said, "I must show my respect to that most ancient of adages +by taking my departure. I feel--" + +"You will do nothing of the sort, child," Louise interrupted. "I want to +interest you in the evolution of Mr. Strangewey." + +"I don't feel that I am necessary," Sophy sighed. "Perhaps I might take +him off your hands some evening when you are busy." + +"On this first evening, at any rate," Louise insisted, "we are going to +be a truly harmonious party of three." + +"Of course, if you really mean it," Sophy remarked, resuming her seat, +"and if I sha'n't make an enemy for life of Mr. Strangewey, I should +love to come, too. Let's decide what to do with him, Louise." + +For a moment the eyes of the two others met. Louise looked swiftly away, +and John's heart gave a little leap. Was it possible that the same +thought had been in her mind--to spend the evening quietly in that +little room? Had she feared it? + +"We must remember," Louise said calmly, "that a heavy responsibility +rests upon us. It is his first night in London. What aspect of it shall +we attempt to show him? Shall we make ourselves resplendent, put on our +best manners and our most gorgeous gowns, and show him the world of +starch and form and fashion from the prince's box at the opera? Or shall +we transform ourselves into Bohemians, drink Chianti at our beloved +Antonio's, eat Italian food in Soho, smoke long cigarettes, and take him +to the Palace? Don't say a word, Sophy. It is not for us to choose." + +"I am afraid that isn't any choice," John declared, his face falling. "I +haven't any clothes except what you see me in." + +"Hooray!" Sophy exclaimed. "Off with your smart gown, Louise! We'll be +splendidly Bohemian. You shall put on your black frock and a black hat, +and powder your nose, and we'll all go to Guido's first and drink +vermuth. I can't look the part, but I can act it!" + +"But tell me," Louise asked him, "did you lose your luggage?" + +"I brought none," he answered. + +They both looked at him--Sophy politely curious, Louise more deeply +interested. He answered the inquiry in her eyes. + +"You'll say, perhaps," he observed, "that living that quiet, half-buried +life up in Cumberland one should have no moods. I have them sometimes. I +was in Market Ketton, on my way to the hotel for lunch, when I heard the +whistle of the London Express coming in. I just had time to drive to the +station, leave the horse and dog-cart with a man I knew, and jump into +the train. I had no ticket or luggage." + +They both stared at him. + +"You mean," Louise demanded, "that after waiting all these months you +started away upon impulse like that--without even letting your brother +know or bringing any luggage?" + +"That's exactly what I did," John agreed, smiling. "I had a sovereign in +my pocket when I had bought my ticket; and by the time I had paid for my +dinner on the train, and tipped the men--well, I hadn't a great deal +left to go shopping with. I stayed at the St. Pancras Hotel, and +telephoned to my solicitor before I got up this morning to have him +send me some money. The joke of it was," he went on, joining in the +girls' laughter, "that Mr. Appleton has been worrying me for months to +come up and talk over reinvestments, and take control of the money my +uncle left me; and when I came at last, I arrived like a pauper. He went +out himself and bought my shirt." + +"And a very nice shirt, too," Sophy declared, glancing at the pattern. +"Do tell us what else happened!" + +"Well, not much more," John replied. "Mr. Appleton stuffed me full of +money and made me take a little suite of rooms at what he called a more +fashionable hotel. He stayed to lunch with me, and I have promised to +see him on business to-morrow morning." + +The two girls sat up and wiped their eyes. + +"Oh, this is a wonderful adventure you have embarked upon!" Louise +exclaimed. "You have come quite in the right spirit. Now I am going to +change my clothes and powder my face, and we will go to Guido's for a +little vermuth, dine at Antonio's, and sit side by side at the Palace. +We shall have to take Sophy with us, but if you show her too much +attention I shall send her home. It is your first night here, Mr. +Strangewey, so I warn you that Sophy is the most irresponsible and +capricious of all my friends. She has more admirers than she knows what +to do with, and she disposes of them in the simplest way in the +world--by getting new ones." + +Sophy made a grimace. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she begged earnestly, "you won't believe a word she +says, will you? All my life I have been looking for a single and +steadfast attachment. Of course, if Louise wants to monopolize you, I +shall fall into the background, as I usually do; but if you think that +I am going to accept hints and let you go out to dinner alone, you are +very much mistaken. To-night, at any rate, I insist upon coming!" + +Louise shook her head. + +"We shall have to put up with her," she told John with a little grimace. + +The door of the room was suddenly opened. The parlor maid stood at one +side. + +"The Prince of Seyre, madam," she announced. + +Louise nodded. She was evidently expecting the visit. She turned to +John. + +"Will you come back and call for us here--say at seven o'clock? Mind, +you are not to bother about your clothes, but to come just as you are. I +can't tell you," she added under her breath, "how much I am looking +forward to our evening!" + +Sophy sprang to her feet. + +"Won't you drop me, please, Mr. Strangewey?" she asked. "Then, if you +will be so kind, you can pick me up again on your way here. You'll have +to pass where I live, if you are at the Milan. I must go home and do my +little best to compete." + +Louise's frown was so slight that even John failed to notice it. Upon +the threshold they encountered the prince, who detained John for a +moment. + +"I was hoping that I might meet you here, Mr. Strangewey," he said. "If +you are in town for long, it will give me great pleasure if I can be of +any service to you. You are staying at a hotel?" + +"I am staying at the Milan," John replied. + +"I will do myself the pleasure of calling upon you," the prince +continued. "In the meantime, if you need any service that a Londoner can +offer you, be sure to let me know. You will easily find my house in +Grosvenor Square." + +"It is very kind of you indeed," John said gratefully. + +Sophy made a wry face as the prince entered the drawing-room. + +"Didn't some old Roman once write something about being afraid of Greeks +who brought gifts?" she asked, as they descended the stairs together. + +"Quite right," John assented. + +"Well, be careful!" she advised him. "That's all." + + * * * * * + +John handed Sophy into the taxi and took his place beside her. + +"Where shall I put you down?" he asked. + +"It's such a terribly low neighborhood! However, it's quite close to the +Milan--No. 10 Southampton Street." + +John gave the address to the man, and they started off. They were +blocked in a stream of traffic almost as soon as they reached Hyde Park +Corner. John leaned forward all the time, immensely interested in the +stream of passers-by. + +"Your interest in your fellow creatures," she murmured demurely, "is +wonderful, but couldn't you concentrate it just a little?" + +He turned quickly around. She was smiling at him most alluringly. +Unconsciously he found himself smiling back again. A wonderful +light-heartedness seemed to have come to him during the last few hours. + +"I suppose I am a perfect idiot," he admitted. "I cannot help it. I am +used to seeing, at the most, three or four people together at a time. I +can't understand these crowds. Where are they all going? Fancy every +one of them having a home, every one of them struggling in some form or +another toward happiness!" + +"Do you know," she pronounced severely, "for a young man of your age you +are much too serious? Please commence your psychological studies +to-morrow. To-night we are going to have a really frivolous evening, you +and I--and Louise. If you want to be a great success during the next few +hours, what you have to do is to imagine that there are only two people +in the world beside yourself--Louise and I." + +"I think I shall find that very easy," he promised, smiling. + +"I am quite sure you could be nice if you wanted to," she continued. +"How much are you in love with Louise?" + +"How much am I what?" + +"In love with Louise," she repeated. "All the men are. It is a perfect +cult with them. And here am I, her humble companion and friend, +absolutely neglected!" + +"I don't believe you are neglected at all," he replied. "You are too +much too--" + +He turned his head to look at her. She was so close to him that their +hats collided. He was profuse in his apologies. + +"Too what?" she whispered. + +"Too attractive," he ventured. + +"It's nice to hear you say so," she sighed. "Well, I have to get out +here. This is where I live, up on the fourth floor." + +"How does one get there?" he inquired. + +She looked at him quickly. There was a little catch in her breath. + +"What do you mean?" she murmured. + +"Didn't you say that I was to come and fetch you, and then we could go +on to Miss Maurel's together?" + +"Of course," she assented slowly. "How stupid of me! Some day I'll show +you, but I know you would lose the way now. If you like, I'll come for +you--to the Milan." + +"If you would really prefer it?" + +"I am quite sure that I should," she decided. "There are about seven +turns up to my room, and I shall have to personally conduct you there +three or four times before you'll ever be able to find your way. I will +come as soon as I am ready, and then you can give me a cocktail before +we set out." + +She disappeared with a little wave of the hand, and John drove on to his +destination. His rooms at the Milan were immensely comfortable and in +their way quite homelike. John made some small changes to his toilet and +was still in his shirt-sleeves, with hair-brushes in his hands, when +there came a ring at the bell. He answered it at once and found Sophy +standing outside. He gave a little start. + +"I say, I'm awfully sorry!" + +"What for, you silly person?" she laughed. "Which way is the sitting +room, please? Oh, I see! Now, please ring for the waiter and order me a +vermuth cocktail, and one for yourself, of course; and I want some +cigarettes. How clever of you to get rooms looking out upon the +Embankment! I wish they would light the lamps. I think the illuminated +arcs along the Embankment and past the Houses of Parliament is the most +wonderful thing in London. Don't please, look so terrified because you +haven't got your coat on! Remember that I have five brothers." + +"I had no idea you would be here so soon," he explained, "or I would +have been downstairs, waiting for you." + +"Don't be stupid!" she replied. "Please remember that when you are with +me, at any rate, you are in Bohemia and not Belgravia. I don't expect +such attentions. I rather like coming up to your rooms like this, and I +always love the Milan. I really believe that I am your first lady +visitor here." + +"You most assuredly are!" he told her. + +She turned away from the window and suddenly threw up her arms. + +"Oh, I love this place!" she exclaimed. "I love the sort of evening that +we are going to have! I feel happy to-night. And do you know?--I quite +like you, Mr. Strangewey!" + +She clasped the back of her chair and from behind it looked across at +him. She was petite and slender, with a very dainty figure. She wore a +black tailor-made costume, a simple, round-black hat with a long quill +set at a provoking angle, white-silk stockings, and black, patent shoes. +She was unlike any girl John had ever known. Her hair was almost golden, +her eyes a distinct blue, yet some trick of the mouth saved her face +from any suggestion of insipidity. She was looking straight into his +eyes, and her lips were curled most invitingly. + +"I wish I knew more about certain things," he said. + +She came round from behind the chair and stood a little nearer to him. + +"What things?" + +"You know," he said, "I am afraid there is no doubt about it that I am +most horribly in love with another woman. I have come to London because +of her. It seems to me that everything in life depends upon how she +treats me. And yet--" + +"And yet what?" she asked, looking up at him a little wistfully. + +"I feel that I want to kiss you," he confessed. + +"Well, if you don't get it done before the waiter brings in those +cocktails, I shall scream!" + +He took her lightly in his arms for a moment and kissed her. Then she +threw herself down in the easy chair and began to laugh softly. + +"Oh, why didn't you come before?" she exclaimed. "Fancy Louise never +telling me about you!" + +The waiter entered a few minutes later. He drew up a small round table +between them, placed the two wineglasses upon it, and departed +expeditiously. John took one of the glasses over to Sophy. She accepted +it and gave him her fingers to kiss. + +"Dear man," she sighed, "I am getting much too fond of you! Go and sit +in your corner, drink your cocktail, and remember Louise. I love your +rooms, and I hope you'll ask me to lunch some time." + +"I'll have a luncheon party to-morrow, if you like--that is, if Louise +will come." + +She looked up at him quickly. + +"Isn't Louise going to Paris?" she asked. + +He set down the glass which he had been in the act of raising to his +lips. + +"Paris? I didn't hear her say anything about it." + +"Perhaps it is my mistake, then," Sophy went on hastily. "I only fancied +that I heard her say so." + +There was a moment's silence. John had opened his lips to ask a +question, but quickly closed them again. It was a question, he suddenly +decided, which he had better ask of Louise herself. + +"If she does go, I shall be very sorry," he said; "but I do not wish, of +course, to upset her plans. We must talk to her about it to-night. I +suppose we ought to go now." + +Sophy walked with him to the door and waited while he took his hat and +gloves from the hat-stand. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm. + +"If Louise goes to Paris," she whispered disconsolately, "I suppose +there will be no luncheon-party?" + +For a single moment he hesitated. She was very alluring, and the +challenge in her eyes was unmistakable. + +"I think," he said quietly, "that if Miss Maurel goes to Paris, I shall +return to Cumberland to-morrow." + +He opened the door, and Sophy passed out before him. She had dropped her +veil. + + * * * * * + +They drove down the Strand toward Knightsbridge. For a time there was a +significant silence. Then Sophy raised her veil once more and looked +toward John. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she began, "you won't mind if I give you just a little +word of advice? You are such a big, strong person, but you are rather a +child, you know, in some things." + +"This place does make me feel ignorant," he admitted. + +"Don't idealize any one here," she begged. "Don't concentrate all your +hopes upon one object. Love is wonderful and life is wonderful, but +there is only one life, and there are many loves before one reaches the +end. People do such silly things sometimes," she wound up, "just because +of a little disappointment. There are many disappointments to be met +with here." + +He took her hand in his. + +"Little girl," he said, "you are very good to me, and I think you +understand. Are you going to let me feel that I have found a friend on +my first evening in London?" + +"If you want me," she answered simply. "I like you, and I want you to be +happy here; and because I want you to be happy, I want you to come down +from the clouds and remember that you have left your hills behind and +that we walk on the pavements here." + +"Thank you," he whispered, "and thank you for what you have not said. If +I am to find sorrow here instead of joy," he added, a little grimly, "it +is better for me to stumble into the knowledge of it by myself." + +"Your hills have taught you just that much of life, then?" Sophy +murmured. + + + + + X + + +The Prince of Seyre handed his hat and stick to the parlor maid and +seated himself upon the divan. + +"I should be very sorry," he said politely, as the maid left the room, +"if my coming has hastened the departure of your visitors." + +"Not in the least," Louise assured him. "They were leaving when you were +announced. Sophy and I are taking Mr. Strangewey to a Bohemian +restaurant and a music-hall afterward." + +"Fortunate Mr. Strangewey!" the prince sighed. "But, forgive me, why not +a more dignified form of entertainment for his first evening?" + +"The poor man has no clothes," Louise explained. "He came to London +quite unexpectedly." + +"No clothes?" the prince repeated. "It is a long journey to take in such +a fashion. A matter of urgent business, perhaps?" + +Louise shrugged her shoulders. She had risen to her feet and was busy +rearranging some roses in the bowl by her side. + +"Mr. Strangewey has just come into a large fortune, as you know," she +said. "Probably there are many things to be attended to." + +The prince made no further comment. He drew a tortoise-shell-and-gold +cigarette-case from his pocket. + +"It is permitted that one smokes?" he inquired. + +"It is always permitted to you," was the gracious reply. + +"One of my privileges," he remarked, as he blew out the match; "in fact, +almost my only privilege." + +She glanced up, but her eyes fell before his. + +"Is that quite fair?" + +"I should be grieved to do anything or to say anything to you that was +not entirely fair." + +She crushed one of the roses to pieces suddenly in her hands and shook +the petals from her long, nervous fingers. + +"To-day," she said, "this afternoon--now--you have come to me with +something in your mind, something you wish to say, something you are not +sure how to say. That is, you see, what Henri Graillot calls my +intuition. Even you, who keep all your feelings under a mask, can +conceal very little from me." + +"My present feelings," the prince declared, "I do not wish to conceal. I +would like you to know them. But as words are sometimes clumsy, I would +like, if it were possible, to let you see into my heart, or, in these +days, shall I not say my consciousness? I should feel, then, that +without fear of misunderstanding you would know certain things which I +would like you to know." + +She came over and seated herself by his side on the divan. She even laid +her hand upon his arm. + +"Eugene," she expostulated, "we are too old friends to talk always in +veiled phrases. There is something you have to say to me. I am +listening." + +"You know what it is," he told her. + +"You are displeased because I have changed my mind about that little +journey of ours?" + +"I am bitterly disappointed," he admitted. + +She looked at him curiously and then down at her rose-stained fingers. + +"That does not sound quite like you," she said. "And yet I ought to know +that sometimes you do feel things, even though you show it so little. I +am sorry, Eugene." + +"Why are you sorry?" + +"Because I feel that I cannot take that journey." + +"You mean that you cannot now, or that you cannot at any time?" + +"I do not know," she answered. "You ask me more than I can tell you. +Sometimes life seems so stable, a thing one can make a little chart of +and hang up on the wall, and put one's finger here and there--'To-day I +will do this, to-morrow I will feel that'--and the next morning comes +and the chart is in the fire. I wish I understood myself a little +better, Eugene!" + +"Self-understanding is the rarest of all gifts," the prince remarked. +"It is left for those who love us to understand us." + +"And you?" + +"I believe that I understand you better, far better, than you understand +yourself," he declared. "That is why I also believe that I am necessary +to you. I can prevent your making mistakes." + +"Then prevent me," she begged. "Something has happened, and the chart is +in the fire to-day." + +"You have only," he said, "to give your maid her orders, to give me this +little hand, and I will draw out a fresh one which shall direct to the +place in life which is best for you. It is not too late." + +She rose from beside him and walked toward the fireplace, as if to touch +the bell. He watched her with steady eyes but expressionless face. There +was something curious about her walk. The spring had gone from her feet, +her shoulders were a little hunched. It was the walk of a woman who +goes toward the things she fears. + +"Stop!" he bade her. + +She turned and faced him, quickly, almost eagerly. There was a look in +her face of the prisoner who finds respite. + +"Leave the bell alone," he directed. "My own plans are changed. I do not +wish to leave London this week." + +Her face was suddenly brilliant, her eyes shone. Something electric +seemed to quiver through her frame. She almost danced back to her place +by his side. + +"How foolish!" she murmured. "Why didn't you say so at once?" + +"Because," he replied, "they have only been changed during the last few +seconds. I wanted to discover something which I have discovered." + +"To discover something?" + +"That my time has not yet come." + +She turned away from him. She was oppressed with a sense almost of fear, +a feeling that he was able to read the very thoughts forming in her +brain; to understand, as no one else in the world could understand, the +things that lived in her heart. + +"I must not keep you," he remarked, glancing at the clock. "It was very +late for me to call, and you will be wanting to join your friends." + +"They are coming here for me," she explained. "There is really no hurry +at all. We are not changing anything. It is to be quite a simple +evening. Sometimes I wish that you cared about things of that sort, +Eugene." + +He blew through his lips a little cloud of smoke from the cigarette +which he had just lit. + +"I do not fancy," he replied, "that I should be much of a success as a +fourth in your little expedition." + +"But it is silly of you not to visit Bohemia occasionally," she +declared, ignoring the meaning that lay beneath his words. "It is +refreshing to rub shoulders with people who feel, and who show freely +what they feel; to eat their food, drink their wine, even join in their +pleasures." + +The prince shook his head. + +"I am not of the people," he said, "and I have no sympathy with them. I +detest the _bourgeoisie_ of every country in the world--my own more +particularly." + +"If you only knew how strangely that sounds!" she murmured. + +"Does it?" he answered. "You should read my family history, read of the +men and women of my race who were butchered at the hands of that +drunken, lustful mob whom lying historians have glorified. I am one of +those who do not forget injuries. My estates are administered more +severely than any others in France. No penny of my money has ever been +spent in charity. I neither forget nor forgive." + +She laughed a little nervously. + +"What an unsympathetic person you can be, Eugene!" + +"And for that very reason," he replied, "I can be sympathetic. Because I +hate some people, I have the power of loving others. Because it pleases +me to deal severely with my enemies, it gives me joy to deal generously +with my friends. That is my conception of life. May I wish you a +pleasant evening?" + +"You are going now?" she asked, a little surprised. + +He smiled faintly as he raised her fingers to his lips. She had made a +little movement toward him, but he took no advantage of it. + +"I am going now." + +"When shall I see you again?" she inquired, as she came back from +ringing the bell. + +"A telephone-message from your maid, a line written with your own +fingers," he said, "will bring me to you within a few minutes. If I hear +nothing, I may come uninvited, but it will be when the fancy takes me. +Once more, Louise, a pleasant evening!" + +He passed out of the door, which the parlor maid was holding open for +him. Crossing to the window, Louise watched him leave the house and +enter his waiting automobile. He gave no sign of haste or +disappointment. He lit another cigarette deliberately upon the pavement +and gave his orders to the chauffeur with some care. + +As the car drove off without his having once glanced up at the window, +she shivered a little. There was a silence which, it seemed to her, +could be more minatory even than accusation. + + + + + XI + + +The little room was gaudily decorated and redolent with the lingering +odors of many dinners. Yet Louise, who had dined on the preceding +evening at the Ritz and been bored, whose taste in food and environment +was almost hypercritical, was perfectly happy. She found the cuisine and +the Chianti excellent. + +"We are outstaying every one else," she declared; "and I don't even mind +their awful legacy of tobacco-smoke. Do you see that the waiter has +brought you the bill, Mr. Strangewey? Prepare for a shock. It is +fortunate that you are a millionaire!" + +John laughed as he paid the bill and ludicrously overtipped the waiter. + +"London must be a paradise to the poor man!" he exclaimed. "I have never +dined better." + +"Don't overdo it," Sophy begged. + +"I can only judge by results," John insisted. "I have dined, and I am +happy; therefore, the dinner must have been good." + +"You are so convincing!" Sophy murmured. "There is such a finality about +your statements that I would not venture to dispute them. But remember +that your future entertainment is in the hands of two women, one of whom +is a deserving but struggling young artist without the means of +gratifying her expensive tastes. There are heaps of places we are going +to take you to which even Louise pretends she cannot afford. It is so +fortunate, Mr. Strangewey, that you are rich!" + +"I believe you would be just as nice to me if I weren't," John ventured. + +"I am so susceptible!" Sophy sighed, looking into her empty coffee-cup; +"much more susceptible than Louise." + +"I won't have Mr. Strangewey spoiled," Louise put in. "And don't build +too much upon his being content with us as entertainers-in-chief. +Remember the halfpenny papers. In a few days he will be +interviewed--'Millionaire Farmer Come to London to Spend His Fortune.' +He will become famous. He will buy a green morocco engagement-book, and +perhaps employ a secretary. We shall probably have to ask ourselves to +luncheon three weeks ahead." + +"I feel these things coming," John declared. + +"My children," said Louise, rising, "we must remember that we are going +to the Palace. It is quite time we started." + +They made their way down two flights of narrow stairs into the street. +The commissionnaire raised his whistle to his lips, but Louise stopped +him. + +"We will walk," she suggested. "This way, Mr. Strangewey!" + +They passed down the long, narrow street, with its dingy foreign cafes +and shops scarcely one of which seemed to be English. The people who +thronged the pavements were of a new race to John, swarthy, a little +furtive, a class of foreigner seldom seen except in alien lands. Men and +women in all stages of dishabille were leaning out of the windows or +standing on the doorsteps. The girls whom they met occasionally--young +women of all ages, walking arm in arm, with shawls on their heads in +place of hats--laughed openly in John's face. + +"Conquests everywhere he goes!" Louise sighed. "We shall never keep him, +Sophy!" + +"We have him for this evening, at any rate," Sophy replied contentedly; +"and he hasn't spent all his fortune yet. I am not at all sure that I +shall not hint at supper when we come out of the Palace." + +"No hint will be necessary," John promised. "I feel the gnawings of +hunger already." + +"A millionaire's first night in London!" Sophy exclaimed. "I think I +shall write it up for the _Daily Mail_." + +"A pity he fell into bad hands so quickly," Louise laughed. "Here we +are! Stalls, please, Mr. Millionaire. I wouldn't be seen to-night in the +seats of the mighty." + +John risked a reproof, however, and was fortunate enough to find a +disengaged box. + +"The tone of the evening," Louise grumbled, as she settled herself down +comfortably, "is lost. This is the most expensive box in the place." + +"You could restore it by eating an orange," Sophy suggested. + +"Or even chocolates," John ventured, sweeping most of the contents of an +attendant's tray onto the ledge of the box. + +"After this," Sophy declared, falling upon them, "supper will be a +farce." + +"Make you thirsty," John reminded her. + +They devoted their attention to the show, Louise and Sophy at first with +only a moderate amount of interest, John with the real enthusiasm of one +to whom everything is new. His laughter was so hearty, his appreciation +so sincere, that his companions found it infectious, and began to +applaud everything. + +"What children we are!" Louise exclaimed. "Fancy shrieking with laughter +at a ventriloquist whom I have seen at every music-hall I have been to +during the last five or six years!" + +"He was wonderfully clever, all the same," John insisted. + +"The bioscope," Louise decided firmly, "I refuse to have anything to do +with. You have had all the entertainment you are going to have this +evening, Mr. Countryman." + +"Now for supper, then," he proposed. + +Sophy sighed as she collected the half-empty chocolate-boxes. + +"What a pity I've eaten so many! They'd have saved me a luncheon +to-morrow." + +"Greedy child," Louise laughed, "sighing for want of an appetite! I +think we'll insist upon a taxi this time. I don't like overcrowded +streets. Where shall we take him to, Sophy? You know the supper places +better than I do." + +"Luigi's," Sophy declared firmly. "The only place in London." + +They drove toward the Strand. John looked around him with interest as +they entered the restaurant. + +"I've been here before," he said, as they passed through the doors. + +"Explain yourself at once," Louise insisted. + +"It was eight years ago, when I was at Oxford," he told them. "We were +here on the boat-race night. I remember," he added reminiscently, "that +some of us were turned out. Then we went on to--" + +"Stop!" Louise interrupted sternly. "I am horrified! The one thing I did +not suspect you of, Mr. Strangewey, was a past." + +"Well, it isn't a very lurid one," he assured them. "That was very +nearly the only evening about town I have ever been guilty of." + +Luigi, who had come forward to welcome Sophy, escorted them to one of +the best tables. + +"You must be very nice to this gentleman, Luigi," she said. "He is a +very great friend of mine, just arrived in London. He has come up on +purpose to see me, and we shall probably decide to make this our +favorite restaurant." + +"I shall be vairy happy," Luigi declared, with a bow. + +"I am beginning to regret, Mr. Strangewey, that I ever introduced you to +Sophy," Louise remarked, as she sank back into her chair. "You won't +believe that all my friends are as frivolous as this, will you?" + +"They aren't," Sophy proclaimed confidently. "I am the one person who +succeeds in keeping Louise with her feet upon the earth. She has never +had supper here before. Dry biscuits, hot milk, and a volume of poems +are her relaxation after the theater. She takes herself too seriously." + +"I wonder if I do!" Louise murmured, as she helped herself to caviar. + +She was suddenly pensive. Her eyes seemed to be looking out of the +restaurant. Sophy was exchanging amenities with a little party of +friends at the next table. + +"One must sometimes be serious," John remarked, "or life would have no +poise at all." + +"I have a friend who scolds me," she confided. "Sometimes he almost +loses patience with me. He declares that my attitude toward life is too +analytical. When happiness comes my way, I shrink back. I keep my +emotions in the background, while my brain works, dissecting, wondering, +speculating. Perhaps what he says is true. I believe that if one gets +into the habit of analyzing too much, one loses all elasticity of +emotion, the capacity to recognize and embrace the great things when +they come." + +"I think you have been right," John declared earnestly. "If the great +things come as they should come, they are overwhelming, they will carry +you off your feet. You will forget to speculate and to analyze. +Therefore, I think you have been wise and right to wait. You have run no +risk of having to put up with the lesser things." + +She leaned toward him across the rose-shaded table. For those few +seconds they seemed to have been brought into a wonderfully intimate +communion of thought. A wave of her hair almost touched his forehead. +His hand boldly rested upon her fingers. + +"You talk," she whispered, "as if we were back upon your hilltops once +more!" + +He turned his head toward the little orchestra, which was playing a low +and tremulous waltz tune. + +"I want to believe," he said, "that you can listen to the music here and +yet live upon the hilltops." + +"You believe that it is possible?" + +"I do indeed," he assured her. "Although my heart was almost sick with +loneliness, I do not think that I should be here if I did not believe +it. I have not come for anything else, for any lesser things, but to +find--" + +For once his courage failed him. For once, too, he failed to understand +her expression. She had drawn back a little, her lips were quivering. +Sophy broke suddenly in upon that moment of suspended speech. + +"I knew how it would be!" she exclaimed. "I leave you both alone for +less than a minute, and there you sit, as grave as two owls. I ask you, +now, is this the place to wander off into the clouds? When two people +sit looking at each other as you were doing a minute ago, here in +Luigi's, at midnight, with champagne in their glasses, and a supper, +ordered regardless of expense, on the table before them, they are either +without the least sense of the fitness of things, or else--" + +"Or else what?" Louise asked. + +"Or else they are head over heels in love with each other!" Sophy +concluded. + +"Perhaps the child is right," Louise assented tolerantly, taking a peach +from the basket by her side. "Evidently it is our duty to abandon +ourselves to the frivolity of the moment. What shall we do to bring +ourselves into accord with it? Everybody seems to be behaving most +disgracefully. Do you think it would contribute to the gaiety of the +evening if I were to join in the chorus of 'You Made Me Love You,' and +Mr. Strangewey were to imitate the young gentleman at the next table and +throw a roll, say, at that portly old gentleman with the highly polished +shirt-front?" + +"There is no need to go to extremes," Sophy protested. "Besides, we +should get into trouble. The portly old gentleman happens to be one of +the directors." + +"Then we will just talk nonsense," Louise suggested. + +"I am not very good at it," John sighed; "and there is so much I want to +say that isn't nonsense." + +"You ought to be thankful all your life that you have met me and that I +am disposed to take an interest in you," Sophy remarked, as she moved +her chair a little nearer to John's. "I am quite sure that in a very +short time you would have become--well, almost a prig. Providence has +selected me to work out your salvation." + +"Providence has been very kind, then," John told her. + +"I hope you mean it," she returned. "You ought to, if you only +understood the importance of light-heartedness." + +The lights were lowered a few minutes later, and John paid the bill. + +"We've enjoyed our supper," Louise whispered, as they passed down the +room. "The whole evening has been delightful!" + +"May I drive you home alone?" he asked bluntly. + +"I am afraid we can't desert Sophy," she replied, avoiding his eyes. +"She nearly always goes home with me. You see, although she seems quite +a frivolous little person, she is really very useful to me--keeps my +accounts, and all that sort of thing." + +"And does her best," Sophy joined in, "to protect you against your +ruinously extravagant habits!" + +Louise laughed. They were standing in the little hall, and the +commissionnaire was blowing his whistle for a taxi. + +"I won't be scolded to-night," she declared. "Come, you shall both of +you drive home with me, and then Mr. Strangewey can drop you at your +rooms on his way back." + +Sophy made a little grimace and glanced up at John anxiously. He was +looking very big and very grim. + +"Shall you mind that?" she asked. + +A slight plaintiveness in her tone dispelled his first disappointment. +After all, it was Louise's decision. + +"I will try to bear it cheerfully," he promised, smiling, as he handed +them into the cab. + + + + + XII + + +As they drove from Luigi's to Knightsbridge, Louise leaned back in her +corner. Although her eyes were only half closed, there was an air of +aloofness about her, an obvious lack of desire for conversation, which +the others found themselves instinctively respecting. Even Sophy's +light-hearted chatter seemed to have deserted her, somewhat to John's +relief. + +He sat back in his place, his eyes fixed upon Louise. He was so anxious +to understand her in all her moods and vagaries. He was forced to admit +to himself that she had deliberately chosen not to take any portion of +that drive home alone with him. And yet, as he looked back through the +evening, he told himself that he was satisfied. He declined to feel even +a shadow of discouragement. + +After a time he withdrew his eyes from her face and looked out upon the +human panorama through which they were passing. + +They were in the very vortex of London's midnight traffic. The night was +warm for the time of year, and about Leicester Square and beyond the +pavements were crowded with pedestrians, the women lightly and gaily +clad, flitting, notwithstanding some sinister note about their +movements, like butterflies or bright-hued moths along the pavements and +across the streets. The procession of taxicabs and automobiles, each +with its human freight of men and women in evening dress on their way +home after an evening's pleasure, seemed endless. + +Presently Sophy began to talk, and Louise, too, roused herself. + +"I am only just beginning to realize," the latter said, "that you are +actually in London." + +"When I leave you," he replied, "I, too, shall find it hard to believe +that we have actually met again and talked. There seems to be so much +that I have to say," he added, looking at her closely, "and I have said +nothing." + +"There is plenty of time," she told him, and once more the signs of that +slight nervousness were apparent in her manner. "There are weeks and +months ahead of us." + +"When shall I see you again?" he asked. + +"Whenever you like. There are no rehearsals for a day or two. Ring me up +on the telephone--you will find my number in the book--or come and lunch +with me to-morrow, if you like." + +"Thank you," he answered; "that is just what I should like. At what +time?" + +"Half past one. I will not ask either of you to come in now. You can +come down to-morrow morning and get the books, Sophy. I think I am +tired--tired," she added, with a curious little note of self-pity in her +tone. "I am very glad to have seen you again, Mr. Strangewey," she said, +lifting her eyes to his. "Good night!" + +He helped her out, rang the bell, and watched her vanish through the +swiftly opened door. Then he stepped back into the taxicab. Sophy +retreated into the corner to make room for him. + +"You are going to take me home, are you not?" she asked. + +"Of course," he replied, his eyes still fixed with a shade of regret +upon the closed door of Louise's little house. "No. 10 Southampton +Street," he told the driver. + +They turned round and spun once more into the network of moving vehicles +and streaming pedestrians. John was silent, and his companion, for a +little while, humored him. Soon, however, she touched him on the arm. + +"This is still your first night in London," she reminded him, "and there +is to-morrow. You are going to lunch with her to-morrow. Won't you talk +to me, please?" + +He shut the door upon a crowd of disturbing thoughts and fantastic +imaginings, and smiled back at her. Her fingers remained upon his arm. A +queer gravity had come into her dainty little face. + +"Are you really in love with Louise?" she inquired, with something of +his own directness. + +He answered her with perfect seriousness. + +"I believe so," he admitted, "but I should not like to say that I am +absolutely certain. I have come here to find out." + +Sophy suddenly rocked with laughter. + +"You are the dearest, queerest madman I have ever met!" she exclaimed, +holding tightly to his arm. "You sit there with a face as long as a +fiddle, wondering whether you are in love with a girl or not! Well, I am +not going to ask you anything more. Tell me, are you tired?" + +"Not a bit," he declared. "I never had such a ripping evening in my +life." + +She held his arm a little tighter. She was the old Sophy again, full of +life and gaiety. + +"Let's go to the Aldwych," she suggested, "and see the dancing. We can +just have something to drink. We needn't have any more supper." + +"Rather!" he assented readily. "But where is it, and what is it?" + +"Just a supper club," she told him. "Tell the man No. 19 Kean Street. +What fun! I haven't been there for weeks." + +"What about my clothes?" he asked. + +"You'll be all right," she assured him. "You're quite a nice-looking +person, and the manager is a friend of mine." + +The cab stopped a few minutes later outside what seemed to be a private +house except for the presence of a commissionnaire upon the pavement. +The door was opened at once, and John was relieved of his hat and stick +by a cloak-room attendant. Sophy wrote his name in a book, and they were +ushered by the manager, who had come forward to greet them, into a long +room, brilliantly lit, and filled, except in the center, with +supper-tables. + +They selected one near the wall and close to the open space in which, at +the present moment, a man and a woman were dancing. The floor was of +hardwood, and there was a little raised platform for the orchestra. John +looked around him wonderingly. The popping of champagne corks was almost +incessant. A slightly voluptuous atmosphere of cigarette-smoke, mingled +with the perfumes shaken from the clothes and hair of the women, several +more of whom were now dancing, hung about the place. A girl in fancy +dress was passing a great basket of flowers from table to table. + +Sophy sat with her head resting upon her hands and her face very close +to her companion's, keeping time with her feet to the music. + +"Isn't this rather nice?" she whispered. "Do you like being here with +me, Mr. John Strangewey?" + +"Of course I do," he answered heartily. "Is this a restaurant?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, it's a club. We can sit here all night, if you like." + +"Can I join?" he asked. + +She laughed as she bent for a form and made him fill it in. + +"Tell me," he begged, as he looked around him, "who are these girls? +They look so pretty and well dressed, and yet so amazingly young to be +out at this time of night." + +"Mostly actresses," she replied, "and musical-comedy girls. I was in +musical comedy myself before Louise rescued me." + +"Did you like it?" + +"I liked it all right," she admitted, "but I left it because I wasn't +doing any good. I can dance pretty well, but I have no voice, so there +didn't seem to be any chance of my getting out of the chorus; and one +can't even pretend to live on the salary they pay you, unless one has a +part." + +"But these girls who are here to-night?" + +"They are with their friends, of course," she told him. "I suppose, if +it hadn't been for Louise, I should have been here, too--with a friend." + +"I should like to see you dance," he remarked, in a hurry to change the +conversation. + +"I'll dance to you some day in your rooms, if you like," she promised. +"Or would you like me to dance here? There is a man opposite who wants +me to. Would you rather I didn't? I want to do just which would please +you most." + +"Dance, by all means," he insisted. "I should like to watch you." + +She nodded, and a minute or two later she had joined the small crowd in +the center of the room, clasped in the arms of a very immaculate young +man who had risen and bowed to her from a table opposite. John leaned +back in his place and watched her admiringly. Her feet scarcely touched +the ground. She never once glanced at or spoke to her partner, but every +time she passed the corner where John was sitting, she looked at him and +smiled. + +He, for his part, watched her no longer with pleasant interest, but with +almost fascinated eyes. The spirit of the place was creeping into his +blood. His long years of seclusion seemed like a spell of time lying +curiously far away, a crude period, mislived in an atmosphere which, +notwithstanding its austere sweetness, took no account of the human cry. +He refilled his glass with champagne and deliberately drank its +contents. It was splendid to feel so young and strong, to feel the wine +in his veins, his pulse and his heart moving to this new measure! + +His eyes grew brighter, and he smiled back at Sophy. She suddenly +released her hold upon her partner and stretched out her arms to him. +Her body swayed backward a little. She waved her hands with a gesture +infinitely graceful, subtly alluring. Her lips were parted with a smile +almost of triumph as she once more rested her hand upon her partner's +shoulder. + +"Who is your escort this evening?" the latter asked her, speaking almost +for the first time. + +"You would not know him," she replied. "He is a Mr. John Strangewey, and +he comes from Cumberland." + +"Just happens that I do know him," the young man remarked. "Thought I'd +seen his face somewhere. Used to be up at the varsity with him. We once +played rackets together. Hasn't he come into a pile just lately?" + +"An uncle in Australia left him a fortune." + +"I'll speak to him presently," the young man decided. "Always make a +point of being civil to anybody with lots of oof!" + +"I expect he'll be glad to meet you again," Sophy remarked. "He doesn't +know a soul in town." + +The dance was finished. They returned together to where John was +sitting, and the young man held out a weary hand. + +"Amerton, you know, of Magdalen," he said. "You're Strangewey, aren't +you?" + +"Lord Amerton, of course!" John exclaimed. "I thought your face was +familiar. Why, we played in the rackets doubles together!" + +"And won 'em, thanks to you," Amerton replied. "Are you up for long?" + +"I am not quite sure," John told him. "I only arrived last night." + +"Look me up some time, if you've nothing better to do," the young man +suggested. "Where are you hanging out?" + +"The Milan." + +"I am at the Albany. So-long! Must get back to my little lady." + +He bowed to Sophy and departed. She sank a little breathlessly into her +chair and laid her hand on John's arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her +bosom was rising and falling quickly. + +"I am out of breath," she said, her head thrown back, perilously near to +John's shoulder. "Lord Amerton dances so well. Give me some champagne!" + +"And you--you dance divinely," he told her, as he filled her glass. + +"If we were alone," she whispered, "I should want you to kiss me!" + +The stem of the wine-glass in John's fingers snapped suddenly, and the +wine trickled down to the floor. A passing waiter hurried up with a +napkin, and a fresh glass was brought. The affair was scarcely noticed, +but John remained disturbed and a little pale. + +"Have you cut your hand?" Sophy asked anxiously. + +"Not at all," he assured her. "How hot it is here! Do you mind if we +go?" + +"Go?" she exclaimed disconsolately. "I thought you were enjoying +yourself so much!" + +"So I am," he answered, "but I don't quite understand--" + +He paused. + +"Understand what?" she demanded. + +"Myself, if you must know." + +She set down the glass which she had been in the act of raising to her +lips. + +"How queer you are!" she murmured. "Listen. You haven't got a wife or +anything up in Cumberland, have you?" + +"You know I haven't," he answered. + +"You're not engaged to be married, you have no ties, you came up here +perfectly free, you haven't even said anything yet--to Louise?" + +"Of course not." + +"Well, then--" she began. + +Her words were so softly spoken that they seemed to melt away. She +leaned forward to look in his face. + +"Sophy," he begged, with sudden and almost passionate earnestness, "be +kind to me, please! I am just a simple, stupid countryman, who feels as +if he had lost his way. I have lived a solitary sort of life--an +unnatural one, you would say--and I've been brought up with some +old-fashioned ideas. I know they are old-fashioned, but I can't throw +them overboard all at once. I have kept away from this sort of thing. I +didn't think it would ever attract me--I suppose because I didn't +believe it could be made so attractive. I have suddenly found out--that +it does!" + +"What are you going to do?" she whispered. + +"There is only one thing for me to do," he answered. "Until I know what +I have come to London to learn, I shall fight against it." + +"You mean about Louise?" + +"I mean about Louise," he said gravely. + +Sophy came still closer to him. Her voice was as soft as the lightest, +finest note of music, trembling a little with that one thread of +passion. She seemed so dainty, so quiet and sweet, that for a moment he +found himself able to imagine that it was all a dream; that hers was +just one of those fairy, disquieting voices that floated about on the +summer breeze and rippled along the valleys and hillsides of his +Cumberland home. Then, swift as the fancy itself, came the warm touch of +her hand upon his, the lure of her voice once more, with its trembling +cadence. + +"Why are you so foolish?" she murmured. "Louise is very wonderful in her +place, but she is not what you want in life. Has it never occurred to +you that you may be too late?" + +"What do you mean?" he demanded. + +"I believe what the world believes, what some day I think she will admit +to herself--that she cares for the Prince of Seyre." + +"Has she ever told you so?" + +"Louise never speaks of these things to any living soul. I am only +telling you what I think. I am trying to save you pain--trying for my +own sake as well as yours." + +He paid his bill and stooped to help her with her cloak. Her heart sank, +her lips quivered a little. It seemed to her that he had passed to a +great distance. + +"Very soon," John said, "I shall ask Louise to tell me the truth. I +think that I shall ask her, if I can, to-morrow!" + + + + + XIII + + +John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a surprise to him. He +was sitting smoking an after-breakfast pipe on the following morning, +and gazing at the telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the +door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside. + +"I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter began. + +"Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his mouth and throwing +open the door. "It is very good of you to come and see me." + +The prince followed John into the little sitting room. He was dressed, +as usual, with scrupulous care. His white linen gaiters were immaculate, +his trousers were perfectly creased, the hang of his coat had engaged +the care of an artist. His tie was of a deep shade of violet, fastened +with a wonderful pearl, and his fingers were perhaps a trifle +overmanicured. He wore a bunch of Parma violets in his buttonhole, and +he carried with him a very faint but unusual perfume, which seemed to +John like the odor of delicate green tea. It was just these details, and +the slowness of his speech, which alone accentuated his foreign origin. + +"It occurred to me," he said, as he seated himself in an easy chair, +"that if you are really intending to make this experiment in town life +of which Miss Maurel spoke, I might be of some assistance to you. There +are certain matters, quite unimportant in themselves, concerning which +a little advice in the beginning may save you trouble." + +"Very good of you, I am sure," John repeated. "To tell you the truth, I +was just looking through the telephone directory to see if I could come +across the name of a tailor I used to have some things from." + +"If it pleases you to place yourself in my hands," the prince suggested, +"I will introduce you to my own tradespeople. I have made the selection +with some care." + +"That will suit me admirably," John declared. "If you will just give me +the addresses--I couldn't think of taking up your time." + +"I have, fortunately, an idle morning," the prince said, "and it is +entirely at your disposal. At half past one I believe we are both +lunching with Miss Maurel." + +John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoyance. His _tete-a-tete_ +with Louise seemed farther off than ever. At the prince's suggestion, +however, he fetched his hat and gloves and entered the former's +automobile, which was waiting below. + +"Miss Maurel!" the prince remarked, as they glided off westward, "is, I +believe, inviting a few friends to meet you. If you would feel more +comfortable in town clothes, I think the tailor to whom I am taking you +will be able to arrange that. He makes special preparations for such +emergencies." + +"I will do what you think best," John agreed. + +They spent the morning in the neighborhood of Bond Street, and John laid +the foundations of a wardrobe more extensive than any he had ever +dreamed of possessing. At half past one they were shown into Louise's +little dressing room. There were three or four men already present, +standing around their hostess and sipping some faint yellow cordial from +long Venetian glasses. + +Louise came forward to meet them, and made a little grimace as she +remarked the change in John's appearance. + +"Honestly, I don't know you, and I don't believe I like you at all!" she +exclaimed. "How dare you transform yourself into a tailor's dummy in +this fashion?" + +"It was entirely out of respect to you," John said. + +"In fact," the prince added, "we considered that we had achieved rather +a success." + +"I suppose I must look upon your effort as a compliment," Louise sighed, +"but it seems queer to lose even so much of you. Shall you take up our +manners and our habits, Mr. Strangewey, as easily as you wear our +clothes?" + +"That I cannot promise," he replied. + +"The brain should adapt itself at least as readily as the body," the +prince remarked. + +M. Graillot, who was one of the three men present, turned around. + +"Who is talking platitudes?" he demanded. "I write plays, and that is my +monopoly. Ah, it is the prince, I see! And our young friend who +interrupted us at rehearsal yesterday." + +"And whom I am anxious to have you meet again," Louise intervened. "You +remember his name, perhaps--Mr. John Strangewey." + +Graillot held out his left hand to the prince and his right to John. + +"Mr. Strangewey," he said, "I congratulate you! Any person who has the +good fortune to interest Miss Maurel is to be congratulated. Yet must I +look at you and feel myself puzzled. You are not an artist--no? You do +not paint or write?" + +John shook his head. + +"Mr. Strangewey's claim to distinction is that he is just an ordinary +man," Louise observed. "Such a relief, you know, after all you clever +people! And that reminds me, Miles," she added, turning to the actor, "I +asked you here, too, especially to meet Mr. Strangewey again. Mr. +Faraday is one of the most dangerous guides in London a young man could +have. He knows everybody and everything unknowable and yet worth +knowing. I present him to you as a hero. He is going to make love to me +three hours a night for very many nights, we hope." + +John shook hands with everybody and sipped the contents of the glass +which had been handed to him. Then a butler opened the door and +announced luncheon. Louise offered her hand to the prince, who stepped +back. + +"It shall be the privilege of the stranger within our gates," he +decided. + +Louise turned to John with a little smile. + +"Let me show you, then, the way to my dining room. I ought to apologize +for not asking some women to meet you. I tried two on the telephone, but +they were engaged." + +"I will restore the balance," the prince promised, turning from the +contemplation of one of the prints hanging in the hall. "I am giving a +supper party to-night for Mr. Strangewey, and I will promise him a +preponderance of your charming sex." + +"Am I invited?" Louise inquired. + +The prince shook his head. + +"Alas, no!" + +They passed into a small dining room, and here again John noticed that +an absolute simplicity was paramount. The carpet was of some dark, +almost indistinguishable color. The walls were white, hung with three or +four French etchings in black reed frames. At one end a curved window +looked out upon a vista of green trees and shrubs, and the recess was +completely filled in with what appeared to be almost a grotto of +flowers. The round table, covered with an exquisitely fine cloth, was +very simply laid. There was a little glass of the finest quality, and a +very little silver. For flowers there was only one bowl, a brilliant +patch of some scarlet exotic, in the center. + +"A supper party to which I am not invited," said Louise, as she took her +place at the table and motioned John to a seat by her side, "fills me +with curiosity. Who are to be your guests, prince?" + +"Calavera and her sprites," the prince announced. + +Louise paused for a moment in the act of helping herself to _hors +d'oeuvres_. She glanced toward the prince. He was busy studying the menu +through his eyeglass. + +"By her sprites you mean--" + +"The young ladies of her wonderful ballet," the prince replied. "I am +also dipping into musical comedy for a few of my guests. Calavera, +however, is to be the _piece de resistance_." + +The prince dropped his eye-glass and glanced toward his hostess. For a +moment their eyes met. Louise's lips were faintly curled. It was almost +as if a challenge had passed between them. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she said, turning to John, "let me warn you. You are +to meet to-night a woman for whom kings are reported to sigh in vain, at +whose feet the _jeunesse doree_ of the world pours out its riches. Is +it kind of the prince, I wonder, to try and seal your fate so soon?" + +John laughed easily. He met the challenge in her eyes and answered it. + +"If you are talking of the great Calavera," he said, "she will be far +too wonderful a lady to take any notice of a yokel like myself. And +besides--" + +"Besides?" the prince intervened. + +"I have only seen her photographs and read of her," John remarked, "but +I don't think she would attract me very much." + +They all laughed. Graillot leaned across the table. + +"My young friend," he exclaimed, "pray to your presiding genius, the +presiding genius that won for you the friendship of our hostess, that +Calavera never hears that speech, or within a week you will be at her +chariot-wheels! I have seen many women and loved many, but there are +none like Calavera. In her way she is the greatest artist that ever +breathed. As for her beauty, wait till you see her! She has a body which +makes me close my eyes and dream of Greece; eyes such as one seldom sees +save in a few parts of southern Spain; and as for her smile--well, if I +go on I shall begin to tell stories of her victims and neglect my +lunch." + +The conversation drifted away to reminiscences of other great dancers. +Louise, under its cover, devoted her attention to her guest, + +"First of all," she asked, "tell me how you like my little friend?" + +"I think she is charming," John answered without hesitation. "We went to +a supper club last night and stayed there till about half past three." + +"A supper club?" + +John nodded. + +"I have forgotten the name of the place, but they made me a member. It +was great fun. We had some more champagne, and Sophy danced. I found a +young man there whom I used to know." + +"Really," said Louise, "I am not sure that I approve of this! A supper +club with Sophy until half past three in the morning!" + +He looked at her quickly. + +"You don't mind?" + +"My dear man, why should I mind?" she returned. "What concern is it of +mine if you and Sophy care to amuse each other? It is exactly what I +hoped for." + +"That's all right, then," John declared, with a sigh of relief. "Do you +know," he went on, lowering his voice, "that I am just a little +disappointed about today?" + +"Disappointed? After I have taken the trouble to give a luncheon party +for you?" + +"I should have thought it a greater compliment, and liked it better, if +you had asked me to lunch with you alone," he said. + +She shook her head. + +"It would have been a wasted opportunity. You have come up to London +with a purpose. You have an experiment to make, an experiment in living. +All these men can help you." + +"The greater part of my experiment," he pointed out, "needs the help of +only one person, and that person is you." + +She moved a little uneasily in her chair. It might have been his fancy, +but he imagined that she glanced under her eyelids toward the Prince of +Seyre. The prince, however, had turned almost ostentatiously away from +her. He was leaning across the table, talking to Faraday. + +"You have not lost your gift of plain speech," she observed. + +"I hope I never shall," he declared. "It seems to me to be the simplest +and the best plan, after all, to say what you feel and to ask for what +you want." + +"So delightful in Cumberland and Utopia," she sighed; "so impracticable +here!" + +"Then since we can't find Utopia, come back to Cumberland," he +suggested. + +A reminiscent smile played for a moment about her lips. + +"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I shall ever again see that dear, +wonderful old house of yours, and the mist on the hills, and the stars +shining here and there through it, and the moon coming up in the +distance!" + +"All these things you will see again," he assured her confidently. "It +is because I want you to see them again that I am here." + +"Just now, at this minute, I feel a longing for them," she whispered, +looking across the table, out of the window, to the softly waving trees. + +At the close of the luncheon, a servant handed around coffee and +liqueurs. The prince turned to Louise. + +"You must not keep our young friend too late," he said. "He has +appointments with his tailor and other myrmidons who have undertaken to +adorn his person." + +"Alas," replied Louise, rising, "I, too, have to go early to my +dressmaker's. Do the honors for me, prince, will you?--and I will make +my adieus now." + +They all rose. She nodded to Graillot and Faraday. The prince moved to +stand by the door. For a moment she and John were detached from the +others. + +"I want to see you alone," he said under his breath. "When can I?" + +She hesitated. + +"I am so busy!" she murmured. "Next week there are rehearsals nearly +every minute of the day." + +"To-morrow," John said insistently. "You have no rehearsals then. I must +see you. I must talk to you without this crowd." + +It was his moment. Her half-formed resolutions fell away before the +compelling ring in his voice and the earnest pleading in his eyes. + +"I will be in," she promised, "to-morrow at six o'clock." + + + + + XIV + + +After the departure of her guests, Louise seemed to forget the pressing +appointment with her dressmaker. She stood before the window of her +drawing-room, looking down into the street. She saw Faraday hail a +taxicab and drive off by himself. She watched the prince courteously +motion John to precede him into his waiting automobile. She saw the two +men seat themselves side by side, and the footman close the door and +take his place beside the chauffeur. She watched until the car took its +place in the stream of traffic and disappeared. The sense of uneasiness +which had brought her to the window was unaccountable, but it seemed in +some way deepened by their departure together. Then a voice from just +behind suddenly startled her. + +"Lest your reverie, dear lady, should end in spoken words not meant for +my ears, I, who often give myself up to reveries, hasten to acquaint you +with the fact of my presence." + +She turned quickly around. It was Graillot who had returned noiselessly +into the room. + +"You?" she exclaimed. "Why, I thought you were the first to leave." + +"I returned," Graillot explained. "An impulse brought me back. A thought +came into my mind. I wanted to share it with you as a proof of the +sentiment which I feel exists between us. It is my firm belief that the +same thought, in a different guise, was traveling through your mind, as +you watched the departure of your guests." + +She motioned him to a place upon the couch, close to where she had +already seated herself. + +"Come," she invited, "prove to me that you are a thought-reader!" + +He sank back in his corner. His hands, with their short, stubby fingers, +were clasped in front of him. His eyes, wide open and alert, seemed +fixed upon her with the ingenuous inquisitiveness of a child. + +"To begin, then, I find our friend, the Prince of Seyre, a most +interesting, I might almost say a most fascinating, study." + +Louise did not reply. After a moment's pause he continued: + +"Let me tell you something which may or may not be unknown to you. A +matter of eighty years ago, there was first kindled in the country +places of France that fire which ultimately blazed over the whole land, +devastating, murderous, anarchic, yet purifying. The family seat of the +house of Seyre was near Orleans. In that region were many oppressors of +the poor who, when they heard the mutterings of the storm, shivered for +their safety. Upon not one of them did that furious mob of men and women +pause to waste a single moment of their time. Without even a spoken word +save one simultaneous, unanimous yell, they grouped together from all +quarters--from every hamlet, from every homestead, men and women and +even children--and moved in one solid body upon the Chateau de Seyre. +The old prince would have been burned alive but for a servant who threw +him a pistol, with which he blew out his brains, spitting at the mob. +One of the sons was caught and torn almost to pieces. Only the father +of our friend, the present Prince of Seyre, escaped." + +"Why do you tell me all this?" Louise asked, shivering. "It is such a +chapter of horrors!" + +"It illustrates a point," Graillot replied. "Among the whole aristocracy +of France there was no family so loathed and detested as the _seigneurs_ +of Seyre. Those at the _chateau_, and others who were arrested in Paris, +met their death with singular contempt and calm. Eugene of Seyre, whose +character in my small way I have studied, is of the same breed." + +Louise took up a fan which lay on the table by her side, and waved it +carelessly in front of her face. + +"One does so love," she murmured, "to hear one's friends discussed in +this friendly spirit!" + +"It is because Eugene of Seyre is a friend of yours that I am talking to +you in this fashion," Graillot continued. "You have also another +friend--this young man from Cumberland." + +"Well?" + +"In him," Graillot went on, "one perceives all the primitive qualities +which go to the making of splendid manhood. Physically he is almost +perfect, for which alone we owe him a debt of gratitude. He has, if I +judge him rightly, all the qualities possessed by men who have been +brought up free from the taint of cities, from the smear of our spurious +over-civilization. He is chivalrous and unsuspicious. He is also, +unfortunately for him, the enemy of the prince." + +Louise laid down her fan. She no longer tried to conceal her agitation. + +"Why are you so melodramatic?" she demanded. "They have scarcely spoken. +This is, I think, their third meeting." + +"When two friends," Graillot declared, "desire the same woman, then all +of friendship that there may have been between them is buried. When two +others, who are so far from being friends that they possess opposite +qualities, opposite characters, opposite characteristics, also desire +the same woman--" + +"Don't!" Louise interrupted, with a sudden little scream. "Don't! You +are talking wildly. You must not say such things!" + +Graillot leaned forward. He shook his head very slowly; his heavy hand +rested upon her shoulder. + +"Ah, no, dear lady," he insisted, "I am not talking wildly. I am +Graillot, who for thirty years have written dramas on one subject and +one subject only--men and women. It has been given to me to study many +varying types of the human race, to watch the outcome of many strange +situations. I have watched the prince draw you nearer and nearer to him. +What there is or may be between you I do not know. It is not for me to +know. But if not now, some day Eugene of Seyre means you to be his, and +he is not a person to be lightly resisted. Now from the skies there +looms up this sudden obstacle." + +"You do not realize," Louise protested, almost eagerly, "how slight is +my acquaintance with Mr. Strangewey. I once spent the night and a few +hours of the next morning at his house in Cumberland, and that is all I +have ever seen of him. How can his presence here be of any serious +import to Eugene?" + +"As to that," Graillot replied, "I say nothing. If what I have suggested +does not exist, then for the first time in my life I have made a +mistake; but I do not think I have. You may not realize it, but there is +before you one of those struggles that make or mar the life of women of +every age. As for the men, I will only say this, and it is because of it +that I have spoken at all--I am a lover of fair play, and the struggle +is not even. The younger man may hold every card in the pack, but Eugene +of Seyre has learned how to win tricks without aces. I stayed behind to +say this to you, Louise. You know the young man and I do not. It is you +who must warn him." + +"Warn him?" Louise repeated, with upraised eyebrows. "Dear master, +aren't we just a little--do you--melodramatic? The age of duels is past, +also the age of hired bravos and assassins." + +"Agreed," Graillot interrupted, "but the weapons of to-day are more +dangerous. It is the souls of their enemies that men attack. If I were a +friend of that young man's I would say to him: 'Beware, not of the +enmity of Eugene of Seyre, but of his friendship!' And now, dear lady, I +have finished. I lingered behind because the world holds no more sincere +admirer of yourself and your genius than I. Don't ring. May I not let +myself out?" + +"Stop!" Louise begged. + +Graillot resumed his seat. He watched with an almost painful curiosity +the changes in Louise's face, which was convulsed by a storm of +passionate apprehension. Yet behind it all he could see the truth. There +was something softer in her face than he had ever perceived before, a +tenderer light than he had ever seen in her eyes. He sighed and looked +down at the carpet. + +Louise rose presently and walked abruptly to the window. Then she came +back and reseated herself by his side. + +"You are the one friend I have in life who understands, dear master," +she said. "Do I weary you if I speak?" + +He looked steadfastly into her eyes. His plain, bearded face was +heavy-browed, lined, tired a little with the coming of age. + +"Louise," he declared, "it is only because I dare not lift my thoughts +and eyes any higher that I count myself the greatest friend you ever +could have in life!" + +She caught at his hand, her head drooped a little. + +"Don't overpower me," she faltered. "I can't--no, I can't!" + +He watched in silence the twitching of her lips, the filling of her +eyes. A momentary remorse struck him. Why should he afflict her at this +moment with his own secret? He closed his eyes, and deliberately shut +out the vision which had lured his tongue into the byways of unwonted +sentiment. He spoke firmly and without emotion. + +"Louise," he begged, "let me be your confidant! No man knows more of the +game of life as it is played out between men and women. There is no one +in whom you can place a greater trust." + +Her fingers clutched his, her nails dug into his palm, but he did not +flinch. + +"I do not know," she murmured, her voice trembling with agitation. "That +is the truth of it all. I do not know where to go for guidance or +inspiration. Life has suddenly become mysterious. Men seem always so +strong and sure. It is only we poor women who lose our bearings." + +Graillot patted her hands tenderly. Then he rose to his feet. + +"You are not going?" she asked him. + +"Dear Louise," he said, "I am going, because the time when I can help +is not yet. Listen! More harm has been done in this world by advice than +in any other way. I have no advice to give you. You have one sure and +certain guide, and that is your own heart, your own instincts, your own +sweet consciousness of what is best. I leave you to that. If trouble +comes, I am always ready!" + + + + + XV + + +During the remainder of that afternoon and evening John was oppressed by +a vague sense of the splendor of his surroundings and his companion's +mysterious capacity for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to the +tailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot-makers almost +resembled a royal progress. All difficulties were waved aside. That +night he dined, clothed like other men from head to foot, in the lofty +dining room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. The prince +proved an agreeable if somewhat reticent companion. He introduced John +to many well-known people, always with that little note of personal +interest in his few words of presentation which gave a certain +significance to the ceremony. + +From the club, where the question of John's proposed membership, the +prince acting as his sponsor, was favorably discussed with several +members of the committee, they drove to Covent Garden, and for the first +time in his life John entered the famous opera-house. The prince, +preceded by an attendant, led the way to a box upon the second tier. A +woman turned her head as they entered and stretched out her hand, which +the prince raised to his lips. + +"You see, I have taken you at your word, Eugene," she remarked. "So many +evenings I have looked longingly from my stall at your empty box. +To-night I summoned up all my courage, and here I am!" + +"You give me a double pleasure, dear lady," the prince declared. "Not +only is it a joy to be your host, but you give me also the opportunity +of presenting to you my friend, John Strangewey. Strangewey, this is my +very distant relative and very dear friend, Lady Hilda Mulloch." + +Lady Hilda smiled graciously at John. She was apparently of a little +less than middle age, with dark bands of chestnut hair surmounted by a +tiara. Her face was the face of a clever and still beautiful woman; her +figure slender and dignified; her voice low and delightful. + +"Are you paying your nightly homage to Calavera, Mr. Strangewey, or are +you only an occasional visitor?" she asked. + +"This is my first visit of any sort to Covent Garden," John told her. + +She looked at him with as much surprise as good breeding permitted. +John, who had not as yet sat down, seemed almost preternaturally tall in +that small box, with its low ceiling. He was looking around the house +with the enthusiasm of a boy. Lady Hilda glanced away from him toward +the prince, and smiled; then she looked back at John. There was +something like admiration in her face. + +"Do you live abroad?" she asked. + +John shook his head. + +"I live in Cumberland," he said. "Many people here seem to think that +that is the same thing. My brother and I have a farm there." + +"But you visit London occasionally, surely?" + +"I have not been in London," John told her, "since I passed through it +on my way home from Oxford, eight years ago." + +"But why not?" she persisted. + +John laughed a little. + +"Well, really," he admitted, "when I come to think of it seriously, I +scarcely know. I have lived alone with an elder brother, who hates +London and would be very unhappy if I got into the way of coming up +regularly. I fancy that I have rather grown into his way of thinking. I +am quite satisfied--or rather I have been quite satisfied--to live down +there all the year round." + +"I have never heard anything so extraordinary in my life!" the woman +declared frankly. "Is it the prince who has induced you to break out of +your seclusion?" + +"Our young friend," the prince explained, "finds himself suddenly in +altered circumstances. He has been left a large fortune, and has come to +spend it. Incidentally, I hope, he has come to see something more of +your sex than is possible among his mountain wilds. He has come, in +short, to look a little way into life." + +Lady Hilda leaned back in her chair. + +"How romantic!" + +"The prince amuses himself," John assured her. "I don't suppose I shall +stay very long in London. I want just to try it for a time." + +She looked at him almost wistfully. She was a woman with brains; a woman +notorious for the freedom of her life, for her intellectual gifts, for +her almost brutal disregard of the conventions of her class. The +psychological interest of John Strangewey's situation appealed to her +powerfully. Besides, she had a weakness for handsome men. + +"Of course, it all sounds like a fairy tale," she declared. "Tell me +exactly, please, how long you have been in London." + +"About forty-eight hours," he answered. + +"And what did you do last night?" + +"I dined with two friends, we went to the Palace, and one of them took +me to a supper club." + +She made a little grimace. + +"You began in somewhat obvious fashion," she remarked. + +"I can vouch for the friends," the prince observed, smiling. + +"At any rate," said Lady Hilda, "I am glad to think that I shall be able +to watch you when you see Calavera dance for the first time." + +The curtain rang up upon one of the most gorgeous and sensuous of the +Russian ballets. John, who by their joint insistence was occupying the +front chair in the box, leaned forward in his place, his eyes +steadfastly fixed upon the stage. Both the prince and Lady Hilda, in the +background, although they occasionally glanced at the performance, +devoted most of their attention to watching him. + +As the story progressed and the music grew in passion and +voluptuousness, they distinctly saw his almost militant protest. They +saw the knitting of his firm mouth and the slight contraction of his +eyebrows. The prince and his friend exchanged glances. She drew her +chair a little farther back, and he followed her example. + +"Where did you find anything so wonderful as this?" she murmured. + +"Lost among the hills in Cumberland," the prince replied. "I have an +estate up there--in fact, he and I are joint lords of the manor of the +village in which he has lived." + +"And you?" she whispered, glancing at John to be sure that she was not +overheard. "Where do you come in? An educator of the young? I don't +seem to see you in that role!" + +A very rare and by no means pleasant smile twisted the corners of his +lips for a moment. + +"It is a long story." + +"Can I be brought in?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"It rests with you. It would suit my plans." + +She toyed with her fan for a moment, looked restlessly at the stage and +back again at John. Then she rose from her place and stood before the +looking-glass. From the greater obscurity of the box she motioned to the +prince. + +John remained entirely heedless of their movements. His eyes were still +riveted upon the stage, fascinated with the wonderful coloring, the +realization of a new art. + +"You and I," Lady Hilda whispered, "do not need to play about with the +truth, Eugene. What are you doing this for?" + +"The idlest whim," the prince assured her quietly. "Look at him. Think +for a moment of his position--absolutely without experience, entirely +ignorant about women, with a fortune one only dreams of, and probably +the handsomest animal in London. What is going to become of him?" + +"I think I understand a little," she confessed. + +"I think you do," the prince assented. "He has views, this young man. It +is my humor to see them dissipated. The modern _Sir Galahad_ always +irritated me a little." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"They'll never give him a chance, these women," she said. "Much better +hand him over to me." + +The prince smiled enigmatically, and Lady Hilda returned to her seat. +John was still leaning forward with his eyes fixed upon Calavera, who +was dancing alone now. The ballet was drawing toward the end. The music +had reached its climax of wild and passionate sensuousness, dominated +and inspired by the woman whose every movement and every glance seemed +part of some occult, dimly understood language. + +When the curtain rang down, John, like many others, was confused. +Nevertheless, after that first breathless pause, he stood up and joined +in the tumultuous applause. + +"Well?" the prince asked. + +John shook his head. "I don't know," he answered. + +"Neither does any one else," Lady Hilda said. "Don't try to analyze your +impressions for our benefit, Mr. Strangewey. I am exactly in your +position, and I have been here a dozen times. Even to us hardened men +and women of the world, this Russian music came as a surprise. There +were parts of it you did not like, though, weren't there?" + +"There were parts of it I hated," John agreed. "There were passages that +seemed to aim at discord in every sense of the word." + +She nodded sympathetically. They were on their way down the broad +staircase. + +"I wonder," she murmured, "whether I am going to be asked out to +supper?" + +"Alas, not to-night, dear lady," the prince regretted. "I am having a +few friends at Seyre House." + +She shot a glance at him and shrugged her shoulders. She was evidently +displeased. + +"How much too bad!" she exclaimed. "I am not at all sure that it is +right of you to invite Mr. Strangewey to one of your orgies. A +respectable little supper at the Carlton, and a cigarette in my library +afterward, would have been a great deal better for both of +you--certainly for Mr. Strangewey. I think I shall run away with him, as +it is!" + +The prince shrugged his shoulders. + +"It is unfortunate," he sighed, "but we are both engaged. If you will +give us the opportunity some other evening--" + +"I am not at all sure that I shall have anything more to do with you, +Eugene," she declared. "You are not behaving nicely. Will you come and +see me while you are in town, Mr. Strangewey?" she added, turning to +John. "I suppose you can be trusted to reach No. 21 Pont Street without +your Mephistophelian chaperon?" + +"I should like to very much," he replied. "I think," he added, a little +hesitatingly, "that I have read one of your books of travel. It is very +interesting to meet you." + +"So my fame has really reached Cumberland!" she laughed. "You must come +and talk to me one afternoon quite soon. Will you? I want so much to +hear your impressions of London. I am always in between six and seven; +or if you want to come earlier, I will try to be in if you telephone." + +"I will come with pleasure," John promised. + +They stood for a few moments in the crowded vestibule until Lady Hilda +Mulloch's car was called. The prince stood back, allowing John to escort +her to the door. She detained him for a moment after she had taken her +seat, and leaned out of the window, her fingers still in his hand. + +"Be careful!" she whispered. "The prince's supper parties are just a +little--shall I say banal? There are better things if one waits!" + + + + + XVI + + +The reception-rooms of Seyre House, by some people considered the finest +in London, were crowded that night by a brilliant and cosmopolitan +assembly. For some time John stood by the prince's side and was +introduced to more people than he had ever met before in his life. +Presently, however, he was discovered by his friend Amerton. + +"Queer thing your being here, a friend of the prince and all that!" the +young man remarked. "Where's Miss Sophy this evening?" + +"I haven't seen her," John replied. "I don't believe she is invited." + +"Did you hear that Calavera is coming?" Amerton inquired. + +John nodded. + +"She's expected any moment. I wonder what she's like off the stage!" + +"You wait and see," Lord Amerton sighed. "There isn't another woman in +Europe to touch her. Why, they say that even our host is one of her +victims. Like to be introduced to some of the girls, or shall we go and +have a drink?" + +John was hesitating when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. The prince's +voice sounded in his ear. + +"Strangewey," he said, "I am privileged to present you to Mme. Aida +Calavera. _Madame_, this is the friend of whom I spoke to you." + +John turned away from the little group of girls and young men toward +whom Amerton had been leading him. Even though the prince's speech had +given him a moment's breathing-space, he felt himself constrained to +pause before he made his bow of ceremony. + +The woman was different from anything he had imagined, from anything he +had ever seen. In the ballet a writhing, sensuous figure with every +gesture a note in the octave of passion, here she seemed the very +personification of a negative and striking immobility. She was slender, +not so tall as she had seemed upon the stage, dressed in white from head +to foot. Her face was almost marblelike in its pallor, her smooth, black +hair was drawn tightly over her ears, and her eyes were of the deepest +shade of blue. + +During that momentary pause, while he searched among a confused mixture +of sensations for some formula of polite speech, John found time to +liken her in his mind to something Egyptian. She raised her hand, as he +bowed, with a gesture almost royal in its condescension. The prince, +with quiet tact, bridged over the moment during which John struggled in +vain for something to say. + +"Mr. Strangewey," he remarked, "paid his first visit to Covent Garden +to-night. He has seen his first ballet, as we moderns understand the +term. I cannot help envying him that delight. He naturally finds it +difficult to realize this additional good fortune. Will you excuse me +for one moment?" + +The prince departed to welcome some later arrivals. The noisy little +group standing close at hand, from which John had been diverted, passed +on into the refreshment-room, and the two were, for a few moments, +almost isolated. + +Even then John felt himself tongue-tied. Standing where she was, with +that background of dark oil-paintings lit only by shaded electric lamps, +she was more than ever like a wonderful old Egyptian statue into which +some measure of slow-moving life had been breathed. He recognized almost +with wonder the absence of any ornament of any sort on her neck or +fingers. + +"You were pleased with the performance, I hope?" + +Her voice was in character with her personality. It was extremely low, +scarcely louder than a whisper. To his surprise, it was almost wholly +free from any foreign accent. + +"It was very wonderful," John answered. + +"You understood the story?" + +"Only partly," he confessed. + +"Would you have recognized me, seeing me as you do now?" + +"Never in the world," he assured her. + +"Tell me why I am so different off the stage." + +"On the stage," he replied, "you seem to me to be the embodiment of wild +movement. Here, you seem--forgive me--to be a statue. I can scarcely +believe that you walked across the room." + +"It is my pose," she said calmly. + +"Then you are a great actress as well as a great dancer," he declared. + +For the first time the plastic calm of her features seemed disturbed. +She smiled, but even her smile seemed to him more like some mechanically +contrived alteration in the facial expression of a statue than anything +natural or spontaneous. + +"The prince tells me," she continued, "that you are a stranger in +London. Give me your arm. We will walk to a quieter place. In a few +moments we are to be disturbed for supper. One eats so often and so +much in this country. Why do I say that, though? It is not so bad as in +Russia." + +They passed across the polished wood floor into a little room with +Oriental fittings, where a lamp was swinging from the ceiling, giving +out a dim but pleasant light. The place was empty, and the sound of the +music and voices seemed to come from a distance. She sank down upon a +divan back among the shadows, and motioned John to sit by her side. + +"You have come to find out, to understand--is that not so?" she +inquired. "What you know of life, the prince tells me, you have learned +from books. Now you have come to discover what more than that there is +to be learned in the world of men and women." + +"Did the prince tell you all this?" John asked. + +"He did," she admitted. "He seems much interested in you." + +"He has been very kind," John said. + +She turned her head slowly and looked at him. + +"A young man to whom the prince chooses to be kind is, in a way, +fortunate," she said. "I think he knows more of life than any other +person whom I ever met." + +"You have known him for long?" + +"In Budapest, five years ago; in Russia, the season afterward; then in +Paris; in Petersburg again, and now in London. The prince has been a +faithful friend. He came once from Florence to Petersburg, to be present +at my first night at the opera. Always he impresses me the same way. +There is very little in life, in men or in women, which he does not +understand. Let us return to what we were speaking about. I find it very +interesting." + +"You are very kind," John declared. + +"What you will learn here," she went on, "depends very much upon +yourself. Are you intelligent? Perhaps not very," she added, looking at +him critically. "You have brains, however, without a doubt. You have +also what places you at once _en rapport_ with the cult of the +moment--you are wonderfully good-looking." + +John moved a little uneasily in his place. He felt that the dancer's +eyes were fixed upon him, and he was feverishly anxious not to respond +to the invitation of their gaze. He was conscious, too, of the queer, +indefinable fascination of her near presence in the dimly lighted room. + +"What you will learn," she proceeded, "depends very much upon your +desires. If you seek for the best, and are content with nothing else, +you will find it. But so few men are content to wait!" + +"I intend to," John said simply. + +"Look at me, please," she ordered. + +Once more he was compelled to look into her deep-blue eyes. The +incomprehensible smile was still upon her lips. + +"You have loved?" + +"No," he answered, taken a little aback by the abruptness of the +question. + +"You grow more wonderful! How old are you, may I ask?" + +"Twenty-eight." + +"At the present moment, then, you are free from any distracting thoughts +about women? You have no entanglements?" + +"I have nothing of the sort," John declared, almost irritably. "There is +one person who has made a wonderful change in my life. I believe I could +say that I am absolutely certain of my feelings for her, but so far she +has not given me much encouragement. Tell me, _madame_, why do you ask +me these questions?" + +"Because it interests me," she replied. "Why do you not insist that this +lady should tell you the truth?" + +"I have come to London to insist," he told her, "but I have been here +only forty-eight hours." + +"So you are waiting?" + +"I am waiting," he assented. + +"So many people spend their lives doing that," she went on presently. +"It does not appeal to me. The moment I make up my mind that I want a +thing, I take it. The moment I make up my mind to give, I give." + +John was suddenly conscious of the closeness of the atmosphere. The +fingers of his hands were clenched tightly together. He swore to himself +that he would not look into this woman's face. He listened to the band +which was playing in the balcony of the great hall, to the murmur of the +voices, the shouts of laughter. He told himself that Mme. Calavera was +amusing herself with him. + +"The prince's party," she continued, after a long pause, "seems to be a +great success, to judge by the noise they are making. So many people +shout and laugh when they are happy. I myself find a more perfect +expression of happiness in silence." + +She was leaning a little back in her place. One arm was resting upon a +pile of cushions, the other hung loosely over the side of the divan. +John felt a sudden desire to rise to his feet, and a simultaneous +consciousness that his feet seemed to be made of lead. + +"You may hold my fingers," she said; "and please keep your face turned +toward me. Why are you nervous? I am not very formidable." + +He took her fingers, very much as the prince had done upon her arrival, +and pressed them formally to his lips. Then he released them and rose. + +"You know," he confessed, "I am very stupid at this sort of thing. Shall +we go back to the reception rooms? I shall be the most unpopular man +here if I keep you any longer." + +The smile deepened slightly. Little lines appeared at the sides of her +eyes. So far from being annoyed, he could see that she was laughing. + +"Joseph," she mocked, "I am not tempting you, really! Do sit down. I +have met men in many countries, but none like you. So you do not wish to +accept those small privileges which a woman may offer when she chooses?" + +"I believe--in fact, I am almost certain--that I love the woman I have +come to London to see," John declared. + +"You get more and more interesting," she murmured. "Don't you realize +that your love for one woman should make you kind to all?" + +"No, I don't," he answered bluntly. + +"Come," she said, "do not be afraid of me. I will not make love to +you--seriously. You must be kind to me because everybody spoils me. +After supper there are one or two more questions I must ask you. Do you +know that I am going to dance here? Never before have I danced in a +private house in England. Except upon the stage, I like to dance only to +those whom I love!" + +The little space between the curtains was suddenly darkened. John turned +eagerly around, and, to his immense relief, recognized the prince. +Their host came forward to where they were sitting, and held out his arm +to Calavera. + +"Dear lady," he announced, "supper is served. Will you do me this great +honor?" + +She rose to her feet. The prince turned to John. + +"This is my privilege as host," he explained; "but if you will follow +us, you will find some consolation in store for you." + + + + + XVII + + +"Well?" the prince asked, as he handed Aida Calavera to her place at his +right hand. + +"I think not," she replied. + +He raised his eyebrows slightly. For a moment he glanced down the +supper-table with the care of a punctilious host, to see that his guests +were properly seated. He addressed a few trivialities to the +musical-comedy star who was sitting on his left. Then he leaned once +more toward the great dancer. + +"You surprise me," he said. "I should have thought that the enterprise +would have commended itself to you. You do not doubt the facts?" + +"They are obvious enough," she replied. "The young man is all that you +say, even more ingenuous than I had believed possible, but I fancy I +must be getting old. He tried to tell me that he was in love with +another woman, and I felt suddenly powerless. I think I must be getting +to that age when one prefers to achieve one's conquests with the lifting +of a finger." + +The prince sighed. + +"I shall never understand your sex!" he declared. "I should have +supposed that the slight effort of resistance such a young man might +make would have provided just the necessary stimulus to complete his +subjection." + +She turned her beautiful head and looked at the prince through narrowed +eyes. + +"After all," she asked, "what should I gain? I am not like a child who +robs an insect of life for a few moments' amusement. Even if I have no +conscience, it gives me no pleasure to be wanton. Besides, the young man +is, in his way, a splendid work of art. Why should I be vandal enough to +destroy it? I shall ask you another question." + +The prince slowly sipped the wine from the glass that he was holding to +his lips. Then he set it down deliberately. + +"Why not?" + +"What is your interest? Is it a bet, a whim, or--enmity?" + +"You may count it the latter," the prince replied deliberately. + +Calavera laughed softly to herself. + +"Now, for the first time," she confessed, "I feel interest. This is +where one realizes that we live in the most impossible age of all +history. The great noble who seeks to destroy the poor young man from +the country is powerless to wreak harm upon him. You can neither make +him a pauper nor have him beaten to death. Why are there princes any +longer, I wonder? You are only as other men." + +"It is an unhappy reflection, but it is the truth," the prince admitted. +"My ancestors would have disposed of this young man as I should a +troublesome fly, and it would have cost them no more than a few silver +pieces and a cask of wine. To-day, alas, conditions are different. It +will cost me more." + +She trifled for a moment with the salad upon her plate, which as yet she +had scarcely tasted. + +"I am feeling," she remarked, "magnificently Oriental--like Cleopatra. +The sensation pleases me. We are bargaining, are we not--" + +"We shall not bargain," the prince interrupted softly. "It is you who +shall name your price." + +She raised her eyes and dropped them again. + +"The prince has spoken," she murmured. + +He touched her fingers for a moment with his, as if to seal their +compact; then he turned once more to the lady upon his left. + +Seyre House was one of the few mansions in London which boasted a +banqueting-hall as well as a picture-gallery. Although the long table +was laid for forty guests, it still seemed, with its shaded lights and +its profusion of flowers, like an oasis of color in the middle of the +huge, somberly lighted apartment. The penny illustrated papers, whose +contributors know more of the doings of London society than anybody +else, always hinted in mysterious terms at the saturnalian character of +the prince's supper parties. John, who had heard a few whispers +beforehand, and whose interest in his surroundings was keen and intense, +wondered whether this company of beautiful women and elegant men were +indeed a modern revival of those wonderful creations of Boccaccio, to +whom they had so often been likened. + +Some of the faces of the guests were well known to him through their +published photographs; to others he had been presented by the prince +upon their arrival. He was seated between a young American star of +musical comedy and a lady who had only recently dropped from the social +firmament through the medium of the divorce-court, to return to the +theater of her earlier fame. Both showed every desire to converse with +him between the intervals of eating and drinking, but were constantly +brought to a pause by John's lack of knowledge of current topics. After +her third glass of champagne, the lady who had recently been a countess +announced her intention of taking him under her wing. + +"Some one must tell you all about things," she insisted. "What you need +is a guide and a chaperon. Won't I do?" + +"Perfectly," he agreed. + +"Fair play!" protested the young lady on his left, whose name was Rosie +Sharon. "I spoke to him first!" + +"Jolly bad luck!" Lord Amerton drawled from the other side of the table. +"Neither of you have an earthly. He's booked. Saw him out with her the +other evening." + +"I sha'n't eat any more supper," Rosie Sharon pouted, pushing away her +plate. + +"You ought to have told us about her at once," the lady who had been a +countess declared severely. + +John preserved his equanimity. + +"It is to be presumed," he murmured, "that you ladies are both free from +any present attachment?" + +"Got you there!" Amerton chuckled. "What about Billy?" + +Rosie Sharon sighed. + +"We don't come to the prince's supper parties to remember our ties," she +declared. "Let's all go on talking nonsense, please. Even if my heart is +broken, I could never resist the prince's _pate_!" + +Apparently every one was of the same mind. The hum of laughter steadily +grew. Jokes, mostly in the nature of personalities, were freely bandied +across the table. It was becoming obvious that the contributors to the +penny illustrated papers knew what they were talking about. Under +shelter of the fire of conversation, the prince leaned toward his +companion and reopened their previous discussion. + +"Do you know," he began, "I am inclined to be somewhat disappointed by +your lack of enthusiasm in a certain direction!" + +"I have disappointed many men in my time," she replied. "Do you doubt my +power, now that I have promised to exercise it?" + +"Who could?" he replied courteously. "Yet this young man poses, I +believe, as something of a St. Anthony. He may give you trouble." + +"He is then, what you call a prig?" + +"A most complete and perfect specimen, even in this nation of prigs!" + +"All that you tell me," she sighed, "makes the enterprise seem easier. +It is, after all, rather like the lioness and the mouse, isn't it?" + +The prince made no reply, but upon his lips there lingered a faintly +incredulous smile. The woman by his side leaned back in her place. She +had the air of accepting a challenge. + +"After supper," she said, "we will see!" + + * * * * * + +A single chord of music in a minor key floated across the room, soft at +first, swelling later into a volume of sound, then dying away and +ceasing altogether. John, standing momentarily alone in a corner of the +picture-gallery, found it almost incredible that this wildly hilarious +throng of men and women could so soon, and without a single admonitory +word, break off in the midst of their conversation, stifle their mirth, +almost hold their breath, in obedience to this unspoken appeal for +silence. Every light in the place was suddenly extinguished. There +remained only the shaded lamps overhanging the pictures. + +Not a whisper was heard in the room. John, looking around him in +astonishment, was conscious only of the half-suppressed breathing of the +men and women who lined the walls, or were still standing in little +groups at the end of the long hall. Again there came the music, this +time merged in a low but insistent clamor of other instruments. Then, +suddenly, through the door at the farther end of the room came a dimly +seen figure in white. The place seemed wrapped in a mystical twilight, +with long black rays of deeper shadow lying across the floor. There was +a little murmur of tense voices, and then again silence. + +For a few moments the figure in white was motionless. Then, without any +visible commencement, she seemed suddenly to blend into the waves of +low, passionate music. The dance itself was without form or definite +movement. She seemed at first like some white, limbless spirit, floating +here and there across the dark bars of shadow at the calling of the +melody. There was no apparent effort of the body. She was merely a +beautiful, unearthly shape. It was like the flitting of a white moth +through the blackness of a moonless summer night. + +The impression it made upon John was indescribable. He watched with +straining eyes, conscious of a deep sense of pleasure. Here was +something appealing insistently to his love of beauty pure and simple; a +new joy, a new grace, something which thrilled him and which left no +aftermath of uneasy thoughts. + +The music suddenly faded away into nothing. With no more effort than +when she had glided into her poem of movement, the dancer stood in a +pose of perfect stillness. There were a few moments of tense silence. +Then came a crash of chords, and the slender white figure launched into +the dance. + +Her motions became more animated, more human. With feet which seemed +never to meet the earth, she glided toward the corner where John was +standing. He caught the smoldering fire in her eyes as she danced within +a few feet of him. He felt a catch in his breath. Some subtle and only +half-expressed emotion shook his whole being, seemed to tear at the +locked chamber of his soul. + +She had flung her arms forward, so near that they almost touched him. He +could have sworn that her lips had called his name. He felt himself +bewitched, filled with an insane longing to throw out his arms in +response to her passionate, unspoken invitation, in obedience to the +clamoring of his seething senses. He had forgotten, even, that any one +else was in the room. + +Then, suddenly, the music stopped. The lights flared out from the +ceiling and from every corner of the apartment. Slender and erect, her +arms hanging limply at her sides, without a touch of color in her cheeks +or a coil of her black hair disarranged, without a sign of heat or +disturbance or passion in her face, John found Aida Calavera standing +within a few feet of him, her eyes seeking for his. She laid her fingers +upon his arm. The room was ringing with shouts of applause, in which +John unconsciously joined. Every one was trying to press forward toward +her. With her left hand she waved them back. + +"If I have pleased you," she said, "I am so glad! I go now to rest for a +little time." + +She tightened her clasp upon her companion's arm, and they passed out of +the picture-gallery and down a long corridor. John felt as if he were +walking in a dream. Volition seemed to have left him. He only knew that +the still, white hand upon his arm seemed like a vise burning into his +flesh. + +She led him to the end of the corridor, through another door, into a +small room furnished in plain but comfortable fashion. + +"We will invade the prince's own sanctum," she murmured. "Before I +dance, I drink nothing but water. Now I want some champagne. Will you +fetch me some, and bring it to me yourself?" + +She sank back upon a divan as she spoke. John turned to leave the room, +but she called him back. + +"Come here," she invited, "close to my side! I can wait for the +champagne. Tell me, why you are so silent? And my dancing--that pleased +you?" + +He felt the words stick in his throat. The sight of her cold, alluring +beauty, shining out of her eyes, proclaiming itself and her wishes from +her parted lips, filled him with a sudden resentment. He hated himself +for the tumult which raged within him, and her for having aroused it. + +"Your dancing was indeed wonderful," he stammered. + +"It was for you!" she whispered, her voice growing softer and lower. "It +was for you I danced. Did you not feel it?" + +Her arms stole toward him. The unnatural calm with which she had +finished her dance seemed suddenly to pass. Her bosom was rising and +falling more quickly. There was a faint spot of color in her cheek. + +"It was wonderful," he told her. "I will get you the champagne." + +Her lips were parted. She smiled up at him. + +"Go quickly," she whispered, "and come back quickly! I wait for you." + +He left the room and passed out again into the picture-gallery before he +had the least idea where he was. The band was playing a waltz, and one +or two couples were dancing. The people seemed suddenly to have become +like puppets in some strange, unreal dream. He felt an almost feverish +longing for the open air, for a long draft of the fresh sweetness of the +night, far away from this overheated atmosphere charged with unnamable +things. + +As he passed through the farther doorway he came face to face with the +prince. + +"Where are you going?" the latter asked. + +"Mme. Calavera has asked me to get her some champagne," he answered. + +The prince smiled. + +"I will see that it is sent to her at once," he promised. "You are in my +sanctum, are you not? You can pursue your _tete-a-tete_ there without +interruption. You are a very much envied man!" + +"Mme. Calavera is there," John replied. "As for me, I am afraid I shall +have to go now." + +The smile faded from the prince's lips. His eyebrows came slowly +together. + +"You are leaving?" he repeated. + +"I must!" John insisted. "I can't help it. Forgive my behaving like a +boor, but I must go. Good night!" + +The prince stretched out his hand, but he was too late. + +It was twenty minutes past two o'clock when John left Grosvenor Square, +and it was twenty minutes to five when a sleepy hall-porter took him up +in the lift to his rooms on the fourth floor at the Milan. The +intervening space of time was never anything to him but an ugly and +tangled sheaf of memories. + +His first overwhelming desire had been simply to escape from that +enervating and perfervid atmosphere, to feel the morning air cool upon +his forehead, to drink in great gulps of the fresh, windy sweetness. He +felt as if poison had been poured into his veins, as if he had tampered +with the unclean things of life. + +He found himself, after a few minutes' hurried walking, in Piccadilly. +The shadows that flitted by him, lingering as he approached and offering +their stereotyped greeting, filled him with a new horror. He turned +abruptly down Duke Street and made his way to St. James's Park. From +here he walked slowly eastward. When he reached the Strand, however, the +storm in his soul was still unabated. He turned away from the Milan. The +turmoil of his passions drove him to the thoughts of flight. Half an +hour later he entered St. Pancras Station. + +"What time is the next train north to Kendal or Carlisle?" he inquired. + +The porter stared at him. John's evening clothes were spattered with +mud, the rain-drops were glistening on his coat and face, his new silk +hat was ruined. It was not only his clothes, however, which attracted +the man's attention. There was the strained look of a fugitive in John's +face, a fugitive flying from some threatened fate. + +"The newspaper train at five thirty is the earliest, sir," he said. "I +don't know whether you can get to Kendal by it, but it stops at +Carlisle." + +John looked at the clock. There was an hour to wait. He wandered about +the station, gloomy, chill, deserted. The place sickened him, and he +strolled out into the streets again. By chance he left the station by +the same exit as on the day of his arrival in London. He stopped short. + +How could he have forgotten, even for a moment? This was not the world +which he had come to discover. This was just some plague-spot upon which +he had stumbled. Through the murky dawn and across the ugly streets he +looked into Louise's drawing-room. She would be there waiting for him on +the morrow! + +Louise! The thought of her was like a sweet, purifying stimulant. He +felt the throbbing of his nerves soothed. He felt himself growing calm. +The terror of the last few hours was like a nightmare which had passed. +He summoned a taxicab and was driven to the Milan. His wanderings for +the night were over. + + + + + XVIII + + +Sophy Gerard sat in the little back room of Louise's house, which the +latter called her den, but which she seldom entered. The little actress +was looking very trim and neat in a simple blue-serge costume which +fitted her to perfection, her hair very primly arranged and tied up with +a bow. She had a pen in her mouth, there was a sheaf of bills before +her, and an open housekeeping-book lay on her knee. She had been busy +for the last half-hour making calculations, the result of which had +brought a frown to her face. + +"There is no doubt about it," she decided. "Louise is extravagant!" + +The door opened, and Louise herself, in a gray morning gown of some soft +material, with a bunch of deep-red roses at her waist, looked into the +room. + +"Why, little girl," she exclaimed, "how long have you been here?" + +"All the morning," Sophy replied. "I took the dogs out, and then I +started on your housekeeping-book and the bills. Your checks will have +to be larger than ever this month, Louise, and I don't see how you can +possibly draw them unless you go and see your bankers first." + +Louise threw herself into an easy chair. + +"Dear me!" she sighed. "I thought I had been so careful!" + +"How can you talk about being careful?" Sophy protested, tapping the +little pile of bills with her forefinger. "You seem to have had enough +asparagus and strawberries every day for at least half a dozen people. +As for the butcher, I am going this afternoon to tell him exactly what I +think of him. And there are several matters here," she went on, +"concerning which you must really talk to the cook yourself. For +instance--" + +"Oh, please don't!" Louise broke in. "I know I am extravagant. I suppose +I always shall be; but if there is one thing in the world I will not do, +it is talk to the cook! She might insist upon going, and I have never +known any one who made such entrees. Remember, child, it will be full +salary in a fortnight's time." + +"You will have to go and see your bankers, anyhow," Sophy declared. +"It's no use my writing out these checks for you. Unless you have paid +in some money I don't know anything about, you seem to be overdrawn +already." + +"I will see to that," Louise promised. "The bank manager is such a +charming person. Besides, what are banks for but to oblige their +clients? How pale you look, little girl! Were you not late last night?" + +Sophy swung round in her place. + +"I am all right. I spent the evening in my rooms and went to bed at +eleven o'clock. Who's lunching with you? I see the table is laid for +two." + +Louise glanced at the clock upon the mantelpiece. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she replied. "I suppose he will be here in a minute or +two." + +Sophy dropped the housekeeping-book and jumped up. + +"I'd better go, then." + +"Of course not," Louise answered. "You must stay to lunch. Ring the bell +and tell them to lay a place for you. Afterward, if you like, you may +come in here and finish brooding over these wretched bills while Mr. +Strangewey talks to me." + +Sophy came suddenly across the room and sank on the floor at Louise's +feet. + +"What are you going to do about Mr. Strangewey, Louise?" she asked +wistfully. + +"What am I going to do about him?" + +"He is in love with you," Sophy continued. "I am sure--I am almost sure +of it." + +Louise's laugh was unconvincing. + +"I do not think," she said, "that he quite knows what it means to be in +love." + +Sophy suddenly clasped her friend's knees. + +"Dear," she whispered, "perhaps I am a little fool, but tell me, +please!" + +Louise, for a moment, was startled. Then she leaned forward and kissed +the eager, upturned face. + +"You foolish child!" she exclaimed. "I believe that you have been +worrying. Why do you think so much about other people?" + +"Please tell me," Sophy begged. "I want to understand how things really +are between you and John Strangewey. Are you in love with him?" + +Louise's eyes were soft and dreamy. + +"I wish I knew," she answered. "If I am, then there are things in life +more wonderful than I have ever dreamed of. He doesn't live in our +world--and our world, as you know, has its grip. He knows nothing about +my art, and you can guess what life would be to me without that. What +future could there be for him and for me together? I cannot remake +myself." + +There was something in Sophy's face which was almost like wonder. + +"So this is the meaning of the change in you, Louise! I knew that +something had happened. You have seemed so different for the last few +months." + +Louise nodded. + +"London has never been the same place to me since I first met him in +Cumberland," she admitted. "Sometimes I think I am--to use your own +words--in love with John. Sometimes I feel it is just a queer, +indistinct, but passionate appreciation of the abstract beauty of the +life he seems to stand for." + +"Is he really so good, I wonder?" Sophy asked pensively. + +"I do not know," Louise sighed. "I only know that when I first talked to +him, he seemed different from any man I have ever spoken with in my +life. I suppose there are few temptations up there, and they keep nearer +to the big things. Sometimes I wonder, Sophy, if it was not very wrong +of me to draw him away from it all!" + +"Rubbish!" Sophy declared. "If he is good, he can prove it and know it +here. He will come to know the truth about himself. Besides, it isn't +everything to possess the standard virtues. Louise, he will be here in a +minute. You want to be left alone with him. What are you going to say +when he asks you what you know he will ask you?" + +Louise looked down at her. + +"Dear," she said, "I wish I could tell you. I do not know. That is the +strange, troublesome part of it--I do not know!" + +"Will you promise me something?" Sophy begged. "Promise me that if I +stay in here quietly until after he has gone, you will come and tell +me!" + +Louise leaned a little downward as if to look into her friend's face. +Sophy suddenly dropped her eyes, and the color rose to the roots of her +hair. There was a knock at the door, and the parlor maid entered. + +"Mr. Strangewey, madam," she announced. + + + + + XIX + + +"There can be no possible doubt," Louise remarked, as she unfolded her +napkin, "as to our first subject of conversation. Both Sophy and I are +simply dying of curiosity to know about the prince's supper party." + +"It was very cheerful and very gay," John said. "Every one seemed to +enjoy it very much." + +"Oh, la, la!" Sophy exclaimed. "Is that all you have to tell us? I shall +begin to think that you were up to mischief there." + +"I believe," Louise declared, "that every one of the guests is sworn to +secrecy as to what really goes on." + +"I can assure you that I wasn't," John told them. + +"The papers hint at all sorts of things," Sophy continued. "Every one +who writes for the penny illustrated papers parades his whole stock of +classical knowledge when he attempts to describe them. We read of the +feasts of Lucullus and Bacchanalian orgies. They say that at supper-time +you lie about on sofas and feast for four hours at a stretch." + +"The reports seem exaggerated," John laughed. "We went in to supper at +half past twelve and we came out just before two. We sat on chairs, and +the conversation was quite decorous." + +"This is most disappointing!" Louise murmured. "I cannot think why the +prince never invites us." + +"The ladies of his family were not present," John remarked stiffly. + +There was a moment's silence. Louise had looked down at her plate, and +Sophy glanced out of the window. + +"Is it true that Calavera was there?" the latter asked presently. + +"Yes, she was there," John replied. "She danced after supper." + +"Oh, you lucky man!" Louise sighed. "She only dances once or twice a +year off the stage. Is she really so wonderful close to?" + +"She is, in her way, very wonderful," John agreed. + +"Confess that you admired her," Louise persisted. + +"I thought her dancing extraordinary," he confessed, "and, to be +truthful, I did admire her. All the same, hers is a hateful gift." + +Louise looked at him curiously for a moment. His face showed few signs +of the struggle through which he had passed, but the grim setting of his +lips reminded her a little of his brother. He had lost, too, something +of the boyishness, the simple light-heartedness of the day before. +Instinctively she felt that the battle had begun. She asked him no more +about the supper party, and Sophy, quick to follow her lead, also +dropped the subject. + +Luncheon was not a lengthy meal, and immediately its service was +concluded, Sophy rose to her feet with a sigh. + +"I must go and finish my work," she declared. "Let me have the den to +myself for at least an hour, please, Louise. It will take me longer than +that to muddle through your books." + +Louise nodded and rose to her feet. + +"We will leave you entirely undisturbed," she promised. "I hope, when +you have finished, you will have something more agreeable to say than +you had before lunch. Shall we have our coffee up-stairs?" she +suggested, turning to John. + +"I should like to very much," he replied. "I want to talk to you alone." + +She led the way up-stairs into the cool, white drawing-room, with its +flower-perfumed atmosphere and its delicate, shadowy air of repose. She +curled herself up in a corner of the divan and gave him his coffee. Then +she leaned back and looked at him. + +"So you have really come to London, Mr. Countryman!" + +"I have followed you," he answered. "I think you knew that I would. I +tried not to," he went on, after a moment's pause. "I fought against it +as hard as I could; but in the end I had to give in." + +"That was very sensible of you," she declared knocking the ash from her +cigarette. "There is no use wearing oneself out fighting a hopeless +battle. You know now that there are things in life which are not to be +found in your passionless corner among the hills. You have realized that +you owe a duty to yourself." + +"That was not what brought me," he answered bluntly. "I came for you." + +Louise's capacity for fencing seemed suddenly enfeebled. A frontal +attack of such directness was irresistible. + +"For me!" she repeated weakly. + +"Of course," he replied. "None of your arguments would have brought me +here. If I have desired to understand this world at all, it is because +it is your world. It is you I want--don't you understand that? I thought +you would know it from the first moment you saw me!" + +He was suddenly on his feet, leaning over her, a changed man, masterful, +passionate. She opened her lips, but said nothing. She felt herself +lifted up, clasped for a moment in his arms. Unresisting, she felt the +fire of his kisses. The world seemed to have stopped. Then she tried to +push him away, weakly, and against her own will. At her first movement +he laid her tenderly back in her place. + +"I am sorry!" he said. "And yet I am not," he added, drawing his chair +close up to her side. "I am glad! You knew that I loved you, Louise. You +knew that it was for you I had come." + +She was beginning to collect herself. Her brain was at work again; but +she was conscious of a new confusion in her senses, a new element in her +life. She was no longer sure of herself. + +"Listen," she begged earnestly. "Be reasonable! How could I marry you? +Do you think that I could live with you up there in the hills?" + +"We will live," he promised, "anywhere you choose in the world." + +"Ah, no!" she continued, patting his hand. "You know what your life is, +the things you want in life. You don't know mine yet. There is my work. +You cannot think how wonderful it is to me. You don't know the things +that fill my brain from day to day, the thoughts that direct my life. I +cannot marry you just because--because--" + +"Because what?" he interrupted eagerly. + +"Because you make me feel--something I don't understand, because you +come and you turn the world, for a few minutes, topsyturvy. But that is +all foolishness, isn't it? Life isn't built up of emotions. What I want +you to understand, and what you, please, must understand, is that at +present our lives are so far, so very far, apart. I do not feel I could +be happy leading yours, and you do not understand mine." + +"I have come to find out about yours," John explained. "That is why I am +here. Perhaps I ought to have waited a little time before I spoke to you +as I did just now. Come, you can forget what I have said and done; but +to me it will be an everlasting joy. I shall treasure the memory of it. +It will help me--I can't tell you quite in what way it will help me. But +for the rest, I will serve my apprenticeship. I will try to get into +sympathy with the things that please you. It will not take me long. As +soon as you feel that we are drawing closer together, I will ask you +again what I have asked you this afternoon. In the meantime, I may be +your friend, may I not? You will let me see a great deal of you? You +will help me just a little?" + +Louise leaned back in her chair. She had been carried off her feet, +brought face to face with emotions which she dared not analyze. Perhaps, +after all her self-dissection, there were still secret chambers. She +thought almost with fear of what they might contain. Her sense of +superiority was vanishing. She was, after all, like other women. + +"Yes," she promised, "I will help. We will leave it at that. Some day +you shall talk to me again, if you like. In the meantime, remember we +are both free. You have not known many women, and you may change your +mind when you have been longer in London. Perhaps it will be better for +you if you do!" + +"That is quite impossible," John said firmly. "You see," he went on, +looking at her with shining eyes, "I know now what I half believed from +the first moment that I saw you. I love you!" + +Springing restlessly to her feet, she walked across the room and back +again. Action of some sort seemed imperative. A curious hypnotic feeling +seemed to be dulling all her powers of resistance. She looked into her +life and she was terrified. Everything had grown insignificant. It +couldn't really be possible that with her brains, her experience, this +man who had dwelt all his life in the simple ways had yet the power to +show her the path toward the greater things! + +Through the complex web of emotions which made up her temperament there +suddenly sprang a primitive instinct, the primitive instinct of all +women, rebelling against the first touch of a master's hand. Was she to +find herself wrong and this man right? Was she to submit, to accept from +his hand the best gifts of life--she who had looked for them in such +very high, such very inaccessible places? + +She felt like a child again. She trembled a little as she sat down by +his side. It was not in this fashion that she had intended to hear what +he had to say. + +"I don't know what is the matter with me to-day," she murmured +distractedly. "I think I must send you away. You disturb my thoughts. I +can't see life clearly. Don't hope for too much from me," she begged. +"But don't go away," she added, with a sudden irresistible impulse of +anxiety. "Oh, I wish--I wish you understood me and everything about me, +without my having to say a word!" + +"I feel what you are," he answered, "and that is sufficient." + +Once more she rose to her feet and walked across to the window. An +automobile had stopped in the street below. She looked down upon it with +a sudden frozen feeling of apprehension. + +John moved to her side, and for him, too, the joy of those few moments +was clouded. A little shiver of presentiment took its place. He +recognized the footman whom he saw standing upon the pavement. + +"It is the Prince of Seyre," Louise faltered. + +"Must you see him?" John muttered. + +"Yes!" + +"Send him away," John begged. "We haven't finished yet. I won't say +anything more to upset you. What I want now is some practical guidance." + +"I cannot send him away!" + +John glanced toward her and hated himself for his fierce jealousy. She +was looking very white and very pathetic. The light had gone from her +eyes. He felt suddenly dominant, and, with that feeling, there came all +the generosity of the conqueror. + +"Good-by!" he said. "Perhaps I can see you some time to-morrow." + +He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one. Then +he left the room. She listened to his footsteps descending the stairs, +firm, resolute, deliberate. They paused, there was a sound of +voices--the prince and he were exchanging greetings; then she heard +other footsteps ascending, lighter, smoother, yet just as deliberate. + +Her face grew paler as she listened. There was something which sounded +to her almost like the beating of fate in the slow, inevitable approach +of this unseen visitor. + + + + + XX + + +Henri Graillot had made himself thoroughly comfortable. He was ensconced +in the largest of John's easy chairs, his pipe in his mouth, a recently +refilled teacup--Graillot was English in nothing except his predilection +for tea--on the small table by his side. Through a little cloud of +tobacco-smoke he was studying his host. + +"So you call yourself a Londoner now, my young friend, I suppose," he +remarked, taking pensive note of John's fashionable clothes. "It is a +transformation, beyond a doubt! Is it, I wonder, upon the surface only, +or have you indeed become heart and soul a son of this corrupt city?" + +"Whatever I may have become," John grumbled, "it's meant three months of +the hardest work I've ever done!" + +Graillot held out his pipe in front of him and blew away a dense cloud +of smoke. + +"Explain yourself," he insisted. + +John stood on the hearth-rug, with his hands in his pockets. His morning +clothes were exceedingly well-cut, his tie and collar unexceptionable, +his hair closely cropped according to the fashion of the moment. He had +an extremely civilized air. + +"Look here, Graillot," he said, "I'll tell you what I've done, although +I don't suppose you would understand what it means to me. I've visited +practically every theater in London." + +"Alone?" + +"Sometimes with Miss Maurel, sometimes with her little friend, Sophy +Gerard, and sometimes alone," John replied. "I have bought a Baedeker, +taken a taxicab by the day, and done all the sights. I've spent weeks in +the National Gallery, picture-gazing, and I've done all those more +modern shows up round Bond Street. I have bought a racing-car and +learned to drive it. I have been to dinner parties that have bored me +stiff. I have been introduced to crowds of people whom I never wish to +see again, and made one or two friends," he added, smiling at his guest, +"for whom I hope I am properly grateful." + +"The prince has been showing you round a bit, hasn't he?" Graillot +grunted. + +"The prince has been extraordinarily kind to me," John admitted slowly, +"for what reason I don't know. He has introduced me to a great many +pleasant and interesting people, and a great many whom I suppose a young +man in my position should be glad to know. He has shown me one side of +London life pretty thoroughly." + +"And what about it all?" Graillot demanded. "You find yourself something +more of a citizen of the world, eh?" + +"Not a bit," John answered simply. "The more I see of the life up here, +the smaller it seems to me. I mean, of course, the ordinary life of +pleasure, the life to be lived by a young man like myself, who hasn't +any profession or work upon which he can concentrate his thoughts." + +"Then why do you stay?" + +John made no immediate reply. Instead, he walked to the window of his +sitting room and stood looking out across the Thames with a +discontented frown upon his face. Between him and the Frenchman a +curious friendship had sprung up during the last few months. + +"Tell me, then," Graillot continued, taking a bite from his piece of +cake and shaking the crumbs from his waistcoat, "what do you find in +London to compensate you for the things you miss? You are cooped up here +in this little flat--you, who are used to large rooms and open spaces; +you have given up your exercise, your sports--for what?" + +"I get some exercise," John protested. "I play rackets at Ranelagh most +mornings, and I bought a couple of hacks and ride occasionally in the +park before you're out of bed." + +"That's all right for exercise," Graillot observed. "What about +amusements?" + +"Well, I've joined a couple of clubs. One's rather a swagger sort of +place--the prince got me in there; and then I belong to the Lambs, where +you yourself go sometimes. I generally look in at one or the other of +them during the evening." + +"You see much of Miss Maurel?" + +John shook his head gloomily. + +"Not as much as I should like," he confessed. "She seems to think and +dream of nothing but this play of yours. I am hoping that when it is +once produced she will be more free." + +"I gather," Graillot concluded, "that, to put it concisely and +truthfully, you are the most bored man in London. There is something +behind all this effort of yours, my friend, to fit yourself, the round +human being, into the square place. Speak the truth, now! Treat me as a +father confessor." + +John swung round upon his heel. In the clear light it was obvious that +he was a little thinner in the face and that some of the tan had gone +from his complexion. + +"I am staying up here, and going on with it," he announced doggedly, +"because of a woman." + +Graillot stopped eating, placed the remains of his cake in the saucer of +his teacup, and laid it down. Then he leaned back in his chair and +balanced his finger-tips one against the other. + +"A woman!" he murmured. "How you astonish me!" + +"Why?" + +"Candor is so good," Graillot continued, "so stimulating to the moral +system. It is absolute candor which has made friends of two people so +far apart in most ways as you and myself. You surprise me simply because +of your reputation." + +"What about my reputation?" + +Graillot smiled benignly. + +"In France," he observed, "you would probably be offered your choice of +lunatic asylums. Here your weakness seems to have made you rather the +vogue." + +"What weakness?" + +"It is to a certain extent hearsay, I must admit," Graillot proceeded; +"but the report about you is that, although you have had some of the +most beautiful women in London almost offer themselves to you, you still +remain without a mistress." + +"What in the world do you mean?" John demanded. + +"I mean," Graillot explained frankly, "that for a young man of your age, +your wealth, and your appearance to remain free from any feminine +entanglement is a thing unheard of in my country, and, I should imagine, +rare in yours. It is not so that young men were made when I was young!" + +"I don't happen to want a mistress," John remarked, lighting a +cigarette. "I want a wife." + +"But meanwhile--" + +"You can call me a fool, if you like," John interrupted. "I may be one, +I suppose, from your point of view. All I know is that I want to be able +to offer the woman whom I marry, and who I hope will be the mother of my +children, precisely what she offers me. I want a fair bargain, from her +point of view as well as mine." + +Graillot, who had been refilling his pipe, stopped and glowered at his +host. + +"What exactly do you mean?" he asked. + +"Surely my meaning is plain enough," John replied. "We all have our +peculiar tastes and our eccentricities. One of mine has to do with the +other sex. I cannot make an amusement of them. It is against all my +prejudices." + +Graillot carefully completed the refilling of his pipe and lit it +satisfactorily. Then he turned once more to John. + +"Let us not be mistaken," he said. "You are a purist!" + +"You can call me what you like," John retorted. "I do not believe in one +law for the woman and another for the man. If a man wants a woman, and +we all do more or less, it seems to me that he ought to wait until he +finds one whom he is content to make the mother of his children." + +Graillot nodded ponderously. + +"Something like this I suspected," he admitted. "I felt that there was +something extraordinary and unusual about you. If I dared, my young +friend, I would write a play about you; but then no one would believe +it. Now tell me something. I have heard your principles. We are face to +face--men, brothers, and friends. Do you live up to them?" + +"I have always done so," John declared. + +Graillot was silent for several moments. Then he opened his lips to +speak and abruptly closed them. His face suddenly underwent an +extraordinary change. A few seconds ago his attitude had been that of a +professor examining some favorite object of study; now a more personal +note had humanized his expression. Whatever thought or reflection it was +that had come into his mind, it had plainly startled him. + +"Who is the woman?" he asked breathlessly. + +"There is no secret about it, so far as I am concerned," John answered. +"It is Louise Maurel. I thought you must have guessed." + +The two men looked at each other in silence for some moments. Out on the +river a little tug was hooting vigorously. The roar of the Strand came +faintly into the room. Upon the mantelpiece a very ornate French clock +was ticking lightly. All these sounds seemed suddenly accentuated. They +beat time to a silence almost tragical in its intensity. + +Graillot took out his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. He had +written many plays, and the dramatic instinct was strongly developed in +him. + +"Louise!" he muttered under his breath. + +"She is very different, I know," John went on, after a moment's +hesitation. "She is very clever and a great artist, and she lives in an +atmosphere of which, a few months ago, I knew nothing. I have come up +here to try to understand, to try to get a little nearer to her." + +There was another silence, this time almost an awkward one. Then +Graillot rose suddenly to his feet. + +"I will respect your confidence," he promised, holding out his hand. +"Have no fear of that. I am due now at the theater. Your tea is +excellent, and such little cakes I never tasted before." + +"You will wish me good luck?" + +"No!" + +"Why not?" John demanded, a little startled. + +"Because," Graillot pronounced, "from what I have seen and know of you +both, there are no two people in this world less suitable for each +other." + +"Look here," John expostulated, "I don't want you to go away thinking +so. You don't understand what this means to me." + +"Perhaps not, my friend," Graillot replied, "but remember that it is at +least my trade to understand men and women. I have known Louise Maurel +since she was a child." + +"Then it is I whom you don't understand." + +"That may be so," Graillot confessed. "One makes mistakes. Let us leave +it at that. You are a young man of undeveloped temperament. You may be +capable of much which at present I do not find in you." + +"Tell me the one quality in which you consider me most lacking," John +begged. "You think that I am narrow, too old-fashioned in my views? +Perhaps I am, but, on the other hand, I am very anxious to learn and +absorb all that is best in this wider life. You can't really call me +prejudiced. I hated the stage before I came to London, but during the +last few months no one has been a more assiduous theatergoer. I +understand better than I did, and my views are immensely modified. I +admit that Louise is a great artist, I admit that she has wonderful +talents. I am even willing, if she wished it, to allow her to remain for +a time upon the stage. What could I say more? I want you on my side, +Graillot." + +"And I," Graillot replied, as he shook his friend's hand and hurried +off, "want only to be on the side that will mean happiness for you +both." + +He left the room a little abruptly. John walked back to the window, +oppressed with a sense of something almost ominous in the Frenchman's +manner, something which he could not fathom, against which he struggled +in vain. Side by side with it, there surged into his memory the +disquietude which his present relations with Louise had developed. She +was always charming when she had any time to spare--sometimes almost +affectionate. On the other hand, he was profoundly conscious of her +desire to keep him at arm's length for the present. + +He had accepted her decision without a murmur. He made but few efforts +to see her alone, and when they met he made no special claim upon her +notice. He was serving his apprenticeship doggedly and faithfully. Yet +there were times like the present when he found his task both hateful +and difficult. + +He walked aimlessly backward and forward, chafing against the restraint +of the narrow walls and the low ceiling. A sudden desire had seized him +to fly back to the hills, wreathed in mist though they might be; to +struggle on his way through the blinding rain, to drink down long gulps +of his own purer, less civilized atmosphere. + +The telephone-bell rang. He placed the receiver to his ear almost +mechanically. + +"Who is it?" he asked. + +"Lady Hilda Mulloch is asking for you, sir," the hall-porter announced. + + * * * * * + +Lady Hilda peered around John's room through her lorgnette, and did not +hesitate to express her dissatisfaction. + +"My dear man," she exclaimed, "what makes you live in a hotel? Why don't +you take rooms of your own and furnish them? Surroundings like these are +destructive to one's individuality." + +"Well, you see," John explained, as he drew an easy chair up to the fire +for his guest, "my stay in London is only a temporary one, and it hasn't +seemed worth while to settle anywhere." + +She stretched out her graceful body in front of the fire and raised her +veil. She was very smartly dressed, as usual. Her white-topped boots and +white silk stockings, which she seemed to have no objection to +displaying, were of the latest vogue. The chinchilla around her neck and +in her little toque was most becoming. She seemed to bring with her an +atmosphere indefinable, in its way, but distinctly attractive. Brisk in +her speech, a little commanding in her manner, she was still essentially +feminine. + +John, at her direct invitation, had called upon her once or twice since +their meeting at the opera, and he had found her, from the first, more +attractive than any other society woman of his acquaintance. None the +less, he was a little taken aback at her present visit. + +"Exactly why are you here, anyhow?" she demanded. "I feel sure that +Eugene told me the reason which had brought you from your wilds, but I +have forgotten it." + +"For one thing," John replied, "I have come because I don't want to +appear prejudiced, and the fact that I had never spent a month in +London, or even a week, seemed a little narrow-minded." + +"What's the real attraction?" Lady Hilda asked. "It is a woman, isn't +it?" + +"I am very fond of a woman who is in London," John admitted. "Perhaps it +is true that I am here on her account." + +Lady Hilda withdrew from her muff a gold cigarette-case and a little box +of matches. + +"Order some mixed vermuth with lemon for me, please," she begged. "I +have been shopping, and I hate tea. I don't know why I came to see you. +I suddenly thought of it when I was in Bond Street." + +"It was very kind of you," John said. "If I had known that you cared +about seeing me, I would have come to you with pleasure." + +"What does it matter?" she answered. "You are thinking, perhaps, that I +risk my reputation in coming to a young man's rooms? Those things do not +count for me. Ever since I was a child I have done exactly as I liked, +and people have shrugged their shoulders and said, 'Ah, well, it is only +Lady Hilda!' I have been six months away from civilization, big-game +shooting, and haven't seen a white woman. It didn't matter, because it +was I. I traveled around the world with a most delightful man who was +writing a book, but it didn't affect my reputation in the slightest. I +am quite convinced that if I chose to take you off to Monte Carlo with +me next week and spend a month with you there, I should get my pass to +the royal enclosure at Ascot when I returned, and my invitation to the +next court ball, even in this era of starch. You see, they would say, +'It is only Lady Hilda!'" + +The waiter brought the vermuth, which his visitor sipped contentedly. + +"So there is a woman, is there?" she went on, looking across the room at +her companion. "Have you committed yourself already, then? Don't you +remember what I told you the first night we met after the opera--that it +is well to wait?" + +"Yes, I remember," John admitted. + +"I meant it." + +He laughed good-humoredly, yet not without some trace of +self-consciousness. + +"The mischief was done then," he said. + +"Couldn't it be undone?" she asked lazily. "Or are you one of those +tedious people who are faithful forever? Fidelity," she continued, +knocking the ash from her cigarette, "is really, to my mind, the most +bourgeois of vices. It comes from a want of elasticity in the emotional +fibres. Nothing in life has bored me so much as the faithfulness of my +lovers." + +"You ought to put all this into one of your books," John suggested. + +"I probably shall, when I write my reminiscences," she replied. "Tell me +about this woman. And don't stand about in that restless way at the +other end of the room. Bring a chair close to me--there, close to my +side!" + +John obeyed, and his visitor contemplated him thoughtfully through a +little cloud of tobacco-smoke. + +"Yes," she decided, "there is no use denying it. You are hatefully +good-looking, and somehow or other I think your clothes have improved +you. You have a little more air than when you first came to town. Are +you quite sure that you haven't made up your mind about this woman in a +hurry?" + +"Quite sure," John laughed. "I suppose I am rather an idiot, but I am +addicted to the vice of which you were speaking." + +She nodded. + +"I should imagine," she said, "that you were not an adept in the art of +flirtation. Is it true that the woman is Louise Maurel?" + +"Quite true," John replied. + +"But don't you know--" + +She broke off abruptly. She saw the face of the man by her side suddenly +change, and her instinct warned her of the danger into which she was +rushing. + +"You surprise me very much," she said. "Louise Maurel is a very +wonderful woman, but she seems to spend the whole of her time with my +cousin, the prince." + +"They are, without doubt, very friendly," John assented. "They have a +good many interests in common, and the prince is connected with the +syndicate which finances the theater. I do not imagine, however, that +the prince wishes to marry her, or she him." + +Lady Hilda began to laugh, softly, but as if genuinely amused. John sat +and watched her in ominous silence. Not the flicker of a smile parted +his set lips. His visitor, however, was undisturbed. She leaned over and +patted his hand. + +"Simple Simon!" she murmured, leaning a little toward him. "If you go +looking like that, I shall pat your cheeks, too. You are really much too +nice-looking to wear such thunderclouds!" + +"Perhaps if we chose some other subject of conversation--" John said +stiffly. + +"Oh, dear me!" she interrupted. "Very well! You really are a most trying +person, you know. I put up with a great deal from you." + +John was silent. Her face darkened a little, and an angry light flashed +in her eyes. + +"Well, I'll leave you alone, if you like," she decided, tossing her +cigarette into the grate. "If my friendship isn't worth having, let it +go. It hasn't often been offered in vain. There are more men in London +than I could count who would go down on their knees for such a visit as +I am paying you. And you--you," she added, with a little tremble of real +anger in her tone, "you're too hatefully polite and priggish! Come and +ring the bell for the lift. I am going!" + +She slid gracefully to her feet, shook the cigarette ash from her +clothes, and picked up her muff. + +"You really are an egregious, thick-headed, obstinate countryman," she +declared, as she moved toward the door. "You haven't either manners or +sensibility. I am a perfect idiot to waste my time upon you. I wouldn't +have done it," she added, as he followed her dumbly down the corridor, +"if I hadn't rather liked you!" + +"I am very sorry," he declared. "I don't know quite what I have done. I +do appreciate your friendship. You have been very kind to me indeed." + +She hesitated as his finger touched the bell of the lift, and glanced at +the watch on her wrist. + +"Well," she said, "if you want to be friends, I will give you one last +chance. I am doing what sounds rather a ghastly thing--I am having a +little week-end party down at my cottage at Bourne End. It will be +rather like camping out, but some interesting people are coming. Will +you motor down on Saturday evening and stay till Sunday night or +Monday?" + +"I shall be very pleased indeed," John replied. "It is very good of you +to ask me. When I come, I'd like, if I may," he went on, "to tell you +about myself, and why I am here, and about Louise." + +She sighed, and watched the top of the lift as it came up. Then she +dropped her veil. + +"You will find me," she assured him, as she gave him the tips of her +fingers, "a most sympathetic listener." + + * * * * * + +Louise and Sophy came to dine that evening with John in the grill-room +at the Milan. They arrived a little late and were still in morning +clothes. Louise was looking pale and tired, and her greeting was almost +listless. + +"We are dead beat," Sophy exclaimed. "We've been having a secret +rehearsal this afternoon without Graillot, and he came in just as we +were finishing. He was perfectly furious!" + +"He was here to tea with me," John remarked, as he led the way to their +table. + +"My dear man," Louise exclaimed, "if you could have kept him half an +hour longer you'd have earned our undying gratitude! You see, there are +several little things on which we shall never agree, he and myself and +the rest of the company; so we decided to run over certain passages in +the way we intend to do them, without him. Of course, he saw through it +all when he arrived, tore up his manuscript on the stage, and generally +behaved like a madman." + +"I am sorry," John said, as they took their seats and he handed Louise +the menu of the dinner that he had ordered. "Won't the play be produced +to-morrow night, then?" + +"Oh, it will be produced all right," Louise told him; "but you don't +know how we've all worn ourselves out, trying to make that old bear see +reason. We've had to give way on one scene, as it is. What a delightful +little dinner, John! You're spoiling us. You know how I love that big +white asparagus. And strawberries, too! Well, I think we've earned it +anyhow, Sophy!" + +"You have," the latter declared. "You were the only one who could soothe +Graillot at all." + +"I can get my way with most people," Louise remarked languidly; "but it +simply means that the more difficult they are, the more you have to +spend yourself in getting it. John," she went on, after a moment's +pause, "you are coming to-morrow night, I suppose?" + +"Of course. Didn't I take my box two months ago?" + +"And now that my part after the first act has been cut out, I am coming +with him," Sophy put in. "I may, mayn't I?" + +"Of course," John assented. + +Louise sighed dejectedly. + +"I am not at all sure that I shall like having you there," she said. "I +shouldn't be at all surprised if it made me nervous." + +He laughed incredulously. + +"It's all very well," she went on, watching the champagne poured in to +her glass, "but you won't like the play, you know." + +"Perhaps I sha'n't understand it altogether," John agreed. "It's very +subtle, and, as you know, I don't find problem plays of that sort +particularly attractive; but with you in it, you can't imagine that I +sha'n't find it interesting!" + +"We were talking about it, coming up in the taxi," Louise continued, +"and we came to the conclusion that you'd hate it. We've had to give way +to Graillot with regard to the last act. Of course, there is really +nothing in it, but I don't know just what you will say." + +"Well, you needn't be afraid that I shall stand up in my box and order +the performance to cease," John assured them, smiling. "Besides, I am +not quite such an idiot, Louise. I know very well that you may have to +say and do things on the stage which in private life would offend your +taste and your sense of dignity. I am quite reconciled to that. I am +prepared to accept everything you do and everything that you say. There! +I can't say more than that, can I?" + +Louise smiled at him almost gratefully. She drew her hand over his, +caressingly. + +"You are a dear!" she declared. "You've really made me feel much more +comfortable. Now please tell me what you have been doing all day." + +"Well, Graillot came in and spent most of the afternoon," John answered. +"Since then, Lady Hilda Mulloch has been here." + +Louise looked up quickly. + +"What, here in your rooms?" + +"I didn't ask her," John said. "I have been to see her once or twice, +and she has been very nice, but I never dreamed of her coming here." + +"Shameless hussy!" Sophy exclaimed, as she set down her wine-glass. +"Didn't you tell her that Louise and I are the only two women in London +who have the entree to your rooms?" + +"I am afraid it didn't occur to me to tell her that," John confessed, +smiling. "All the same, I was surprised to see her. It was just a whim, +I think." + +"She is a clever woman," Louise sighed. "She won't know me--I can't +imagine why. She is a cousin of the prince, too, you know." + +"She is very amusing," John agreed. "I have met some interesting people +at her house, too. She has asked me down to Bourne End for this next +week-end--the week-end you are spending with Mrs. Faraday," he +continued, glancing toward Louise. + +Louise nodded. She looked at John critically. + +"Quite a success in town, isn't he?" she remarked to Sophy. "People +tumble over one another to get invitations for her week-end parties in +the season. I must say I never heard of going down to Bourne End in +February, though." + +"The idea seemed rather pleasant to me," John confessed. "So many of you +people know nothing of the country except just in the summer!" + +"If John gets talking about the country," Louise said, "we shall not be +allowed our proper share in the conversation for the rest of the +evening. The question is, are we to allow him to go down to Bourne End? +Lady Hilda isn't exactly a Puritan where your sex is concerned, you +know, John." + +"She'll expect you to flirt with her," Sophy insisted. + +"She won't," John replied. "I have told her that I am in love with +Louise." + +"Was there ever such a man in the world?" Louise exclaimed. "Tell me, +what did Lady Hilda say to that?" + +"Not much," he answered. "She suggested that her cousin had a prior +claim on you." + +Louise laid down her knife and fork. Her left hand clutched the piece of +toast which was lying by her side. She began to crumble it up into small +pieces. + +"What did Lady Hilda say exactly?" she insisted. + +"Nothing much," John replied. "She seemed surprised when I mentioned +your name. I asked her why, and she told me, or rather she hinted, that +you and the prince are very great friends." + +"Anything more?" + +"Nothing at all. I pointed out that the prince is interested in +theatrical affairs, and that he is the chief member of the syndicate +that runs the theaters. She seemed to understand." + +There was a brief silence. Louise was once more looking a little tired. +She changed the subject abruptly, and only returned to it when John was +driving home with her. + +"Do you know," she said, after a long silence, "I am not at all sure +that I want you to go to Lady Hilda's!" + +"Then I won't," he promised with alacrity. "I'll do just as you say." + +Louise sat quite still, thinking, looking through the rain-splashed +windows of the taxicab. + +"You have only to say the word," John continued. "I should be flattered +to think that you cared." + +"It isn't that. Lady Hilda is very clever, and she is used to having her +own way. I am afraid!" + +"Afraid of what?" + +"Of nothing," Louise declared suddenly. "Go, by all means, John. I am +simply a little idiot when I give way for a moment to such poisonous +thoughts. Lady Hilda can say what she likes about anybody or anything. +It really doesn't matter at all whether you go to Bourne End or not." + +"I don't quite understand you," John confessed; "but if you mean that +you are afraid of anything Lady Hilda might say to me about you, why, I +feel inclined to laugh at you. Lady Hilda," he added, with a touch of +intuition, "is far too clever a woman to make such a mistake." + +"I believe you are right," Louise agreed. "I shall pin my faith to Lady +Hilda's cleverness and to your--fidelity. Go and spend your week-end +there, by all means. I only wish I wasn't bound to go to the Faradays', +but that can't possibly be helped. Come and lunch with me on Monday," +she added impulsively. "It seems a long time since we had a little talk +together." + +He suddenly held her to him, and she met his lips unresistingly. It was +the first time he had even attempted anything of the sort for months. + +"You are a dear, John," she said, a little wistfully. "I am terribly +divided in my thoughts about you. Just now I feel that I have only one +wish--that I could give you all that you want, all that you deserve!" + +He was very loverlike. She was once more a slight, quivering thing in +his arms. + +"Why need we wait any longer?" he begged. "If we told everyone +to-night--to-morrow--the Faradays would not expect you to keep your +engagement." + +She shook herself free from him, but her smile was almost a +compensation. The taxicab had stopped opposite her door, and her servant +came hurrying out. + +"Until Monday!" she murmured. + + + + + XXI + + +Early on the following morning John glided out of London in his +two-seated racing-car, on his way to Bourne End. The white mist that +hung over the Streets and parks and obscured the sky passed away as he +left the suburbs behind him. With his first glimpse of the country came +a welcome change. There were little flecks of blue in the firmament +above him, a distinct if somewhat watery sunshine, and a soft buoyancy +in the air, almost an anticipation of spring. + +John leaned back in his seat, filled with an unexpected sense of +contentment. After all, this week-end visit would probably turn out to +be pleasant enough, and on Monday night the play was to be produced at +last. He felt that for weeks Louise had been living in an atmosphere of +high tension. He himself had begun to realize the nervous excitement of +a first night, when the work of many months is at last presented in its +concrete form. He was content to believe that all that had depressed him +in Louise's demeanor had been due to this cause--to anxiety about her +success, to the artistic dissatisfaction evolved by the struggle between +her desire to conform to the prejudices of the critics and her wish to +present truthfully the work of the great French dramatist. Once it was +all over and the verdict given, relaxation would come. He was content to +wait. + +He had no trouble in finding Lady Hilda's cottage in Bourne End--a long, +white bungalow-looking building, surrounded by a little stream which +led down to the river. A man servant took his dressing case from the +back of the car and showed him the way to the garage. Lady Hilda herself +came strolling up the lawn and waved her hand. + +"Now what about my week-end on the river?" she exclaimed, as they shook +hands. "Isn't it delightful? I have ordered lunch early--do you +mind?--and I thought, if you felt energetic, it's not too cold for you +to take me out on the river; or, if you feel lazy, I'll take you." + +"I am not much of an oarsman," John told her, "but I certainly won't ask +you to pull me about!" + +She led him into the little dining room and answered the question in his +eyes when he saw the table laid for two. + +"Colonel and Mrs. Dauncey are coming down this afternoon," she said, +"and my brother Fred will be here in time for dinner. I wired to Mrs. +Henderson--the woman who writes novels, you know--to come down, too, if +she can, but I haven't heard from her. I have been looking at the river +this morning, and it's almost like glass; and I can see little specks of +green in the flower-beds where my bulbs are coming up. Richards will +show you your room now, if you like, and we'll have lunch in ten +minutes." + +John found his cottage bedroom, with its view of the river, delightful, +and at luncheon Lady Hilda showed him the side of herself that he liked +best. She talked of her travels, and of big-game shooting. Afterward +they sauntered out to the stream, and John, selecting the more stable of +the two boats moored to the little landing-stage, pulled out into the +river. Lady Hilda, in a fur coat, leaned back on a pile of cushions and +watched him, with a cigarette between her lips. He found the exercise +stimulating and delightful. Some of the color which he had lost came +back to his cheeks. + +"Aren't you sorry," she asked him once, as they paused to look across a +vista of green meadows toward a distant range of hills, "for the people +who see nothing in the country except in summer? Look at those lines of +bare, sad trees, the stillness of it all, and yet the softness; and +think what it will soon be, think what there is underneath, ready to +burst into life as the weeks go on! I always come down here early, just +to watch the coming of springtime. That wood to our left, with its bare, +brown undergrowth, will soon show little flushes of pinky-yellow, and +then a few days more sunshine and the primroses will be there. And you +see, higher up, that wood where the trees stand so far apart? A little +later still, the wild hyacinths will be like a blue carpet there. In the +garden we begin with little rings of white snowdrops; then the crocuses +come up in lines, yellow and purple; and the daffodils; and then, on +those beds behind, the hyacinths. When the wind blows from the south, +the perfume of them, as you pass down the river, is simply wonderful. Be +careful, if you are turning round. There's a strong current here." + +John nodded. He was watching his hostess a little curiously. + +"I had no idea," he said simply, "that you cared about flowers and that +sort of thing." + +She threw her cigarette away and looked at him for a moment without +speaking. + +"You see, you don't really understand me very well," she remarked. + +The twilight was coming on as they turned into their own little stream, +and gleams of light shot from the windows of the few houses that were +open. As they strolled up the lawn, they could see a rose-shaded lamp +and a silver tea-equipage set out in Lady Hilda's sitting room. + +"No one arrived yet, I see," she remarked carelessly, as they entered +the cottage. "I'll play you a game of billiards as soon as we have had +tea." + +John, who had thoroughly enjoyed his exercise, sat in a low chair by her +side, drank innumerable small cups of tea, and ate buttered toast in +thin strips. When they had finished, Lady Hilda rose. + +"Go and knock the balls about for a few minutes," she begged. "I am +going to put on a more comfortable gown. If the Daunceys come, you can +entertain them. I played a round of golf this morning before you came." + +John made his way into the comfortable billiard room, at one end of +which a wood fire was burning, lit a cigarette, and took out a cue. +Presently Lady Hilda returned. She was wearing a rose-colored tea-gown, +and once more John caught a glimpse of something in her eyes, as she +looked at him, which puzzled him. + +"I am a little gaudy, I am afraid," she laughed, as she took a cue from +the rack, "but so comfortable! How many will you give me in a hundred?" + +"I have never seen you play," John reminded her. "I am not much good +myself." + +They played two games, and John had hard work to escape defeat. As they +were commencing the third, the butler entered the room, bearing a +telegram. Lady Hilda took it from the salver, glanced at it, and threw +it into the fire. + +"What a nuisance!" she exclaimed. "The Daunceys can't come." + +John, who was enjoying himself very much, murmured only a word or two of +polite regret. He had never got over his distaste for meeting strangers. + +"Can't be helped, I suppose," Lady Hilda remarked. "There is nothing +from Flo Henderson yet. We'll have one more game, and then I'll ring her +up." + +They played another game of billiards, and sat by the fire for a little +while. The silence outside, and the air of repose about the place, were +delightful to John after several months of London. + +"I wonder you ever leave here," he said. + +She laughed softly. + +"You forget that I am a lone woman. Solitude, as our dear friend wrote +in her last novel, is a paradise for two, but is an irritant for one." + +There was a short silence. For the first time since his arrival John's +tranquillity was a little disturbed. There was something almost pathetic +in the expression which had flashed for a moment over his hostess's +face. Was she really lonely, he wondered? Perhaps she had some sort of +unhappy love history underneath her rather hard exterior. He was +disposed just then to judge the whole world charitably, and he had never +believed the stories which people were so anxious to tell of her. He +felt no desire to pursue the subject. + +"I have never read any of Mrs. Henderson's books," he remarked. + +She stretched out an arm, took a volume from the swinging table by her +side, and threw it across to him. + +"You can glance through that while you dress," she said. + +A gong rang through the house a few moments later, and the butler +brought in two cocktails on a little silver tray. + +"We are having quite a solitude _a deux_, aren't we?" Lady Hilda +remarked, as she raised her glass. "I'll go and ring up Flo on my way +up-stairs." + +They parted a few minutes later, and John went up to his room. He found +his clothes carefully laid out, a bright fire burning, and a bath-room +leading from his bedroom. He dressed in somewhat leisurely fashion, and +the dinner-gong rang as he descended the stairs. He could hear Lady +Hilda's voice talking on the telephone, and made his way to her little +room. She had just laid down the receiver. + +"It seems," she said, "that you and I are the only people who appreciate +the country at this time of the year. I have just been talking to Flo. +She declares that nothing in the world would tempt her down here. She is +convinced that all the trees are dropping with damp, and that the mud is +inches deep. She won't believe a single word about the sunshine." + +"She isn't coming, then?" + +Lady Hilda shook her head. + +"Fred is our last hope as a chaperon," she remarked carelessly, as she +took his arm. "I expect he'll turn up later." + +Dinner--which, as John observed when they entered the room, was laid +only for two--was served at a small, round table drawn pleasantly up to +the fire. John, who had never admired his hostess more, put all +disquieting thoughts behind him and thoroughly enjoyed the dainty meal. +The pleasant warmth of the room, the excellent champagne, and Lady +Hilda's amusing conversation, unlocked his tongue. He talked much more +freely than usual of his life in Cumberland, of the various half-formed +plans which he had made as to the spending of his unexpected fortune, of +the new pleasure he found in motoring, of his almost pathetic efforts +to understand and appreciate the town life which at heart he hated. A +clever listener, like most good talkers, Lady Hilda frequently +encouraged him with a sympathetic word or two. + +They were sitting over their coffee and liqueurs in two great easy +chairs drawn up to the fire, when John glanced at the clock with a +little start. + +"Why, it's nearly ten o'clock!" he exclaimed. "What on earth can have +become of your brother?" + +Almost as he spoke the telephone-bell rang. It stood on a little table +behind him. Lady Hilda, who was leaning back in her chair in an attitude +of luxurious repose, pointed lazily to it. + +"Answer it for me, there's a dear man," she begged. + +John took up the receiver. He recognized the voice at once--it was Lady +Hilda's brother who spoke. + +"I say, is Lady Hilda there?" he asked. + +"Yes, where are you?" John replied. "I am John Strangewey. We have been +expecting you all the evening." + +"Expecting me?" was the reply. "What on earth are you talking about? And +what are you doing in the wilderness?" + +"I am spending the week-end with your sister," John replied. "I +understood that you were coming." + +The young man at the other end laughed derisively. + +"Something better to do, old chap!" he said. "I am dining with Flo +Henderson--just speaking from her flat. Send Hilda along, there's a good +fellow." + +John turned around. His eyes met Lady Hilda's, and he understood. He +handed the receiver to her in silence. Of the conversation which passed +he scarcely heard a word. As soon as it began, in fact, he left the +room and went across the hall to the billiard room. The lights were +already lit, and cues, ready chalked, were standing by the table. + +John went through a few moments of dismayed wonder. He glanced out of +the window toward the garage, which was all in darkness. He heard the +soft sweep of Lady Hilda's skirts across the hall, the closing of the +door as she entered. Her eyes met his, as he turned around, with +something of challenge in them. Her lips were curved in a faintly +ironical smile. + +"Well?" she exclaimed, a little defiantly. "Shall I telephone to London +for a chaperon?" + +"Not unless you think it necessary," John replied, suddenly feeling the +fire of battle in his blood. "I can assure you that I am to be trusted. +On the other hand, if you prefer it, I can motor back to town; or I can +go to the inn, and come and take you on the river in the morning." + +It was obvious that she was a little surprised. She came over to him, +put her hands upon the billiard table, and looked up into his face. + +"Don't be a goose," she begged, "and please don't imagine foolish +things. I suppose my telegram to Fred must have gone wrong. Anyhow, I +don't think we need anybody else. We've got along very well so far +to-day, haven't we?" + +"I've enjoyed every moment of it," John declared cheerfully, "and I am +looking forward more than I can tell you to beating you at billiards, to +sleeping once more with my windows wide open and no smuts, and to having +another pull on that river in the morning. Let me give you fifteen this +time. I want to play my best!" + +She took up her cue with a little sigh of half-puzzled relief. They +played two games, the second one at John's insistence. Then the butler +brought in whisky and soda. + +"Is there anything further to-night, madam?" he asked, after he had +arranged the tray. + +"Nothing," Lady Hilda answered. "You can go to bed." + +They played the last game almost in silence. Then Lady Hilda replaced +her cue in the rack and threw herself into one of the easy chairs. + +"Bring me a whisky-and-soda," she said. "We'll have one cigarette before +we go to bed." + +John obeyed her, and sat by her side. She looked at him a little +questioningly. His unhesitating acceptance of the situation had puzzled +her. There was nothing but the slightest change in his manner to denote +his realization of the fact that the house-party was a sham. + +"I believe you are cross," she exclaimed suddenly. + +"On the contrary," John replied, "I have had a thoroughly delightful +day." + +"You don't like people who tell fibs," she went on. "You know quite +well, now, that my house-party was a farce. I never asked the Daunceys, +I never sent a telegram to Fred. It was simply rotten luck that he rang +me up. I asked you down here to spend the week-end with me--alone." + +He looked her in the face, without the slightest change of expression. + +"Then I think that it was exceedingly nice of you," he said, "and I +appreciate the compliment. Really," he went on, with a smile, "I think +we are quite safe, aren't we? You are known as a man-hater, and you are +allowed special privileges because you are what you are. And I am known +to be in love with another woman." + +She frowned slightly. + +"Does the whole world, then, know of your infatuation?" she asked. + +"It may know, for all I care," John replied simply. "I am hoping that +after Monday Louise will let me announce it." + +There was a short silence. A portion of the log fell to the hearth, and +John carefully replaced it upon the fire. + +"Do you remember," she asked, dropping her voice almost to a whisper, +"what I said to you the first night we met at Covent Garden, before I +had any particular interest in you, before I had come to like you?" + +John made no reply. Why did she again remind him of what she had said +that night? + +"I advised you," she went on, "not to be too rash. I think I told you +that there were better things." + +"There is no better thing in the world," John said simply, "than to give +every feeling of which you are capable to the woman you love." + +She frowned and threw her cigarette into the hearth. + +"You talk," she declared, "either like George Alexander on the stage, or +like a country bumpkin! Why doesn't some one teach you the manners of +civilized life?" + +"Lady Hilda," he replied, "I am past teaching. You see, the fact of it +is that a country bumpkin is exactly what I am." + +She turned her white shoulder away from him. + +"You will find a candle on the hall table," she snapped. + +John rose at once to his feet. + +"It's your delightful country air, I suppose," he said. "I am sorry if +I betrayed my sleepiness, however. Good night!" + +Lady Hilda made no answer. John looked backward from the door. She had +kicked off her slipper and was warming her foot before the fire. + +"Good night!" he repeated. "I am going to wake like a giant in the +morning, and pull you just as far as you like up the river!" + +He closed the door, lit a candle, and made his way to his room. As soon +as he was there he locked the door and flung the window wide open. +Resting his elbows upon the window-sill, he looked out at the soft, +misty darkness. He had the sensation of having been through some +undignified fight, in which even victory savored of shame. He felt a +quivering consciousness, half indignant, half irritated, of having been +forced into an impossible situation. + +Presently he began to undress. He moved about on tiptoe, and found +himself continually listening. He heard Lady Hilda come out from the +billiard room below, heard her strike a match as she lit a candle, heard +her coming up the stairs. He stood quite still. Suddenly he saw the +handle of his door turned softly--once, and then again. He watched it +with fascinated, almost horrified eyes. The door was shaken slightly. A +voice from outside called him. + +"Good night!" + +He made no reply. The handle ceased to rattle. He heard retreating +footsteps, the opening and closing of Lady Hilda's door. + + + + + XXII + + +John was awakened the next morning by the sound of rain against his +window. He got out of bed and looked upon a scene of desolation. The +clouds hung low, and rain was coming down in level sheets. The lawns and +gardens which yesterday had had the air of waiting for the spring were +to-day a sudden wilderness. + +There was a knock at the door, and the butler brought in his tea. + +"Lady Hilda sends her compliments, sir," he announced, "and as the +morning is so unfavorable she will not rise until eleven o'clock. +Breakfast will be ready down-stairs at half past nine, or can be served +in your room." + +"Thank you, I'll come down," John replied. + +He bathed and shaved himself, he even packed his own clothes. Then he +left the room, descending the stairs softly, and glancing furtively at +the door of Lady Hilda's room with an air almost of a guilty schoolboy. +He breakfasted alone and spent the morning in the billiard room until +Lady Hilda appeared. + +"I am a terrible hostess, am I not?" she said apologetically, as she +opened the door; "but what is there to be done? The weather is too +hopeless, isn't it?" + +"Appalling!" John agreed. "Still, it's very comfortable in here, and I +have just made a seventy-one break." + +"We'll have a two hundred and fifty up--that ought to last until +lunch-time," she suggested, throwing herself into a chair. "Give me ten +minutes, will you? This weather is so depressing. Even the effort of +getting up seems to have tired me." + +She threw herself into an easy chair, and John tried to concentrate his +attention upon the balls. More than once, however, he glanced across at +his hostess. She was looking older this morning, paler, her face a +little drawn, her eyes large and soft. She sat looking into the fire; on +her knee were some letters, at which she scarcely glanced. Presently she +threw them aside and rang the bell. + +"Bring me a brandy-and-soda and the cigarettes," she told the butler. +"Now, Mr. Strangewey, I am ready," she went on, turning to John. "Give +me fifty in two hundred and fifty, if you dare!" + +"We'll try," he agreed. + +They played until lunch-time, both affecting a rapt interest in the +game. At the sound of the gong Lady Hilda laid down her cue. + +"We'll finish later," she suggested. + +John strolled to the window. There were some signs of clearing in the +sky, although the whole place seemed still to reek of moisture. + +"I am afraid I shall have to start soon after lunch," he said. "It will +take some time to get up to town. I am not a very experienced driver, +and my car is a little inclined to skid on wet roads." + +She made no remark, and to both of them the presence of servants during +the meal appeared to be somewhat of a relief. The coffee and liqueurs, +however, again were served in the billiard room, and there was a very +awkward silence. For some time Lady Hilda had baffled his efforts at +ordinary conversation, and his last few remarks about the weather she +had ignored altogether. + +"So you are going up this evening?" she said at last. + +"This afternoon, if you don't mind," he replied, glancing at the clock, +and thinking of the bliss with which he would turn his car out into the +road. "I explained, didn't I, that I had an engagement this evening?" + +"Quite right," she admitted. "All the same, you are rather an +inconsiderate guest, aren't you, to leave me here alone in this swamp?" + +"Come, too?" he suggested. "I'll motor you up." + +"Thanks," she replied, "I will." + +He was a little taken aback, but, after all, it was perhaps the simplest +way out of his difficulties. + +"I'll take you, with pleasure, if you don't mind being drenched." + +"I can stand physical discomforts," she said. "It's the other sort of +knocks that bruise." + +"It won't be so bad," he continued, ignoring her last speech, "if you +wear a mackintosh and something thick for your head. Shouldn't wonder if +it cleared up presently." + +Lady Hilda smiled. + +"I have been out in a shower in Patagonia," she reminded him, "which +lasted for three weeks. Will it suit you to start in half an hour?" + +"Any time you like," he agreed. + +She had changed her position a little, and he was forced to look at her. + +"Mr. Strangewey," she said, "I want to ask you a question. Are you going +to marry Louise Maurel?" + +"I am," he replied, without hesitation; "at least, I hope to do so." + +She looked at him for a moment with a strange expression. Then she rose +to her feet. Her lips were quivering. She leaned against the +mantelpiece, with her forehead upon her arms. At first he imagined that +she was going to weep; then, to his horror, he found that she was +laughing--half-hysterically, perhaps, but still laughing. He drew a step +nearer to her, but she waved him away. + +"Sit down!" she gasped. "Oh, if I might tell this to Henri Graillot! +What a play! What humor! My friend John Strangewey, I congratulate you! +You have created a new situation in life. Leave me alone, please!" + +She bent forward until her face was completely hidden. Her body was +shaken. Once or twice he fancied that her laughter had turned to sobs. +When at last she looked up, however, there were the remains of an almost +devilish mirth on her lips. She rang the bell. + +"That is for my maid," she said. "I am now going to change my clothes +and let you motor me up to London. I shall get some fresh air, at any +rate, and your car always fills me with longing. Amuse yourself, won't +you? I shall be an hour getting ready, and I will order an early tea." + +"You wouldn't care to tell me, I suppose," he asked, "what is the new +situation in life which you say I have created?" + +She turned to him from the door. She was really a very handsome woman. +Her lips were most expressive. + +"My friend," she said, "if you knew, if you understood, the priceless +humor of it would be gone." + +She closed the door and left John alone. He went back to the +billiard-table, but somehow or other his skill seemed to have vanished. +He had the picture of her face in his mind, the subtle meaning of her +lips, the mockery of her eyes. + +They drove up to London almost in silence. It was nearly seven o'clock +when John swung the little car in Pont Street. It was still raining +softly. + +"Thank you very much," he said, "for my week-end. I enjoyed the river +immensely yesterday afternoon." + +"And thank you very much for everything, Mr. John Strangewey," she +returned. "You have given me what we are all sighing for, a new +sensation--not exactly what I expected, perhaps, but something new." + +"I know you think I am a country yokel and a fool," John said; "but I +wish you'd tell me why you laughed at me in that mysterious fashion." + +She shook her head. + +"It would spoil it," she replied. "Besides, it isn't for me to tell you. +I am the last person who should." + +They drew up outside her little house, from which came no sign of light. + +"Will you dine with me to-night?" he asked suddenly. + +She turned toward him quickly--and understood. + +"Very nice of you," she replied lightly. "I shall go round to my club. +You don't agree with me, somehow. When I look at you or think of you, I +feel inclined either to laugh or cry, and I hate emotions. Don't get +out, please. You see, they are opening the door already." + +She slipped away and disappeared into her house. John drove slowly back +toward the Milan. Just as he was turning in, a little waterproofed +figure from the pavement waved her hand and called to him. He drew up +and she hastened to his side. + +"What are you doing here?" Sophy asked. "I thought you were spending the +week-end up the river." + +"I stayed there last night," he answered. "To-day--well, look at the +weather! I have just motored Lady Hilda up." + +"And what are you going to do now?" she inquired eagerly. + +"Give you some dinner," he replied promptly. + +"Hurrah!" she answered. "I have been so bored and miserable that I went +and walked over Waterloo Bridge in a mackintosh, just to get a little +air. I'll be round in an hour. Will that do?" + +"Any time you like," he agreed; "the sooner the better. I was almost +wishing, a few minutes ago," he went on, "that I could find the courage +to storm you in your little room. Louise is away, and I'm hating +myself." + +"So I am to come and amuse my lord!" she laughed. "Well, I'll come," she +went on quickly. "We'll sit and you shall imagine that I am Louise, and +make love to her. Will that make you happy?" + +John leaned out of the car. + +"Sophy," he whispered, as he slipped in his clutch, "just now I do not +feel like making love to any woman on earth!" + +"Fed up with us, eh?" + +He nodded. + +"You're different, thank Heaven! Don't be late." + + + + + XXIII + + +"This is very nearly my idea of perfect happiness," Sophy murmured, as +she leaned across the table and listened idly while John ordered the +dinner. "Give me very little to eat, John, and talk a great deal to me. +I am depressed about myself and worried about everything!" + +"And I," he declared, "am just beginning to breathe again. I don't think +I understand women, Sophy." + +"Wasn't your week-end party a success?" she asked. + +"Not altogether," he confessed; "but don't let's talk about it. Tell me +what is depressing you." + +"About myself, or things generally?" + +"Yourself, first." + +"Well, the most respectable young man you ever knew in your life, who +lives in Bath, wants me to marry him. I don't think I could. I don't +think I could live in Bath, and I don't think I could marry any one. And +I've just thirteen shillings and fourpence left, I haven't paid my rent, +and my dressmaker is calling for something on account on Monday +morning." + +"There's only one answer to that," John insisted cheerfully. "I am going +to lend you fifty pounds while you make your mind up about the young +man." + +She made a face at him. + +"I couldn't borrow money from a strange gentleman," she protested. + +"Rubbish!" he exclaimed. "If you begin calling me a stranger--but +there, never mind! We'll see about that after dinner. Now what is the +other cause for depression?" + +"I am not very happy about you and Louise," she observed. + +"Why not?" + +She hesitated. While she seemed to be pondering over her words, John +studied her almost critically. Unquestionably she was very pretty; her +fair hair was most becomingly arranged, her petite features and delicate +mouth were charming. Her complexion and coloring were exquisite, her +neck and throat very white against the plain black satin of her gown. + +"In a way," she confessed at last, "it's the play that's bothering me." + +"The play?" he repeated. + +"You won't like it," she sighed. "The reason the production has been +delayed so long is Graillot's insistence upon calling a spade a spade. +Even with all Louise and Miles Faraday have managed to get him to leave +out, there is one scene which is certainly a little startling for +English playgoers." + +"And Louise is in it?" he asked. + +"Louise is the principal figure in it." + +John's face darkened a little. + +"I have noticed lately," he remarked gloomily, "that she rather avoids +talking about the play. I wish she'd chuck it altogether!" + +Sophy shook her head. + +"Louise won't do that," she said. "I sometimes think that her work is +more to her than anything else in life. I suppose you two will find a +way out of it, somehow." + +"There is only one way, and Louise will have to make up her mind to +it," John declared steadfastly. "However, my time hasn't come just yet. +Until it comes, I must make the best of things. Tell me more about your +own love-affairs, Sophy." + +"It isn't a love-affair at all!" she exclaimed, almost indignantly. + +"Why, I am sorry. Your prospective alliance, then, shall I call it?" + +"Oh, it isn't interesting," she said. "It's just a young man in Bath. He +is a lawyer and moderately well off. He has wanted me to marry him for +years. He was a friend of my brother's. Lately he has been bothering a +little more than usual--in fact, I suppose I have received what might be +called an ultimatum. He came up yesterday, and I went out with him last +night. He has gone back to Bath this morning, and I have promised to let +him know in a month. I think that is why I went out to Waterloo Bridge +in a mackintosh and got wet." + +"Do you like him?" John asked practically. + +"I like him, I suppose," Sophy sighed. "That's the worst of it. If I +didn't like him, there might be some chance. I can't realize myself ever +doing more than liking him in a mild sort of way; and if he expected +more, as of course he would, then I should probably hate him. He tried +to kiss me on the way to the station and I nearly scratched him. That +isn't like me, you know. I rather like being kissed sometimes." + +John buried himself in the wine-list. + +"Well," he admitted, "it doesn't sound very hopeful. I'm no sort of +judge in these matters, but I have heard lots of people say that one +gets on all right after marriage without caring very much before. You +don't seem to have a very comfortable life now, do you?" + +"Comfortable? No, but I am free," Sophy replied quickly. "I can come in +and go out when I please, choose my own friends, give my kisses to whom +I please. Marriage--the sort of marriage mine would be--is slavery, and +nothing else. What I am afraid of," she went on, "is that when I was +down in that highly respectable old city, sitting all day in a +respectable little villa, with two servants to order about and +housekeeping-books to keep, I should feel the old pull come over me, and +some day I should chuck it all and come back here to play around under +the lights. It's rather fine to be here, you know--to be in the +atmosphere, even if the lime-light misses one." + +John sighed, and regarded her thoughtfully. + +"You're a queer little girl, Sophy," he said. "I don't know how to +advise you." + +"Of course you don't," she answered. "No one could. As for you, I +suppose you will marry Louise. What will happen to you after that, I +don't know. Perhaps I sha'n't care so much about London then. You've +made it very nice for me, you know." + +"You've made it bearable even for me," he told her. "I often think how +lonely I should have been without you to talk to. Louise sometimes is +delightfully companionable, and kind enough to turn one's head. Other +days I scarcely understand her; everything we say to one another seems +wrong. I come away and leave her simply because I feel that there is a +wall between us that I can't get over." + +"There isn't really," Sophy sighed. "Louise is a dear. Considering +everything, I think she is wonderful. But you are utterly different. She +is very complex, very emotional, and she has her own standards of life. +You, on the other hand, are very simple, very faithful and honest, and +you accept the standards which have been made for you--very, very +rigidly, John." + +"I wonder!" he murmured, as he looked into his wine-glass. "Sometimes I +think I am a fool. Sometimes I think I'd do better to let go the strings +and just live as others do. Sometimes ideas come into one's head that +upset principles and everything. I don't know!" + +Sophy leaned across the table toward him. + +"Be a little more human, John," she begged. "You must feel kind things +sometimes. Couldn't you say them? I am depressed and gloomy. Be like +other men, for once, and flirt with me a little! Try to say things, even +if you don't mean them--just for once, for a few short hours!" + +He held her hand for a moment. The fingers seemed to respond to his +touch with a little thrill. + +"You silly child!" he exclaimed. "If I were to begin to say all the kind +things I feel about you--" + +"Begin, then--begin!" she interrupted. "What do you think of me, really? +Am I pretty? Do you like to have me here at the table with you, or is +your mind too full of Louise? Do you notice that I've a pretty frock on, +and my hair is nicely arranged? I have taken so much trouble to-night. +What are you looking at?" + +John's whole expression had suddenly changed. His eyes were fixed upon +the door, his face was stern as a granite block. Sophy turned quickly +around. The _maitre d'hotel_, with another satellite in his rear, was +welcoming with much ceremony two lately arrived guests. Sophy clutched +at the table-cloth. The newcomers were Louise and the Prince of Seyre. + +"I don't understand this!" John muttered, his lips twitching. + +Sophy Gerard said nothing. Her cheeks were pink with excitement. + +Suddenly Louise saw John and Sophy. She stood quite still for a moment; +then she came toward them, slowly and a little languidly. The prince was +still studying through his eye-glass the various tables which the head +waiter was offering for his consideration. + +"What an astonishing meeting!" Louise remarked, as she laid her hand for +a moment on Sophy's shoulder. "What is going on behind my back?" + +John rose very slowly to his feet. He seemed taller than ever, and +Louise's smile remained unanswered. + +"The rain broke up my week-end party," he explained, "and I met Sophy in +the Strand. In any case, I intended returning to-night. I understood +that you would not be here until to-morrow about eleven o'clock." + +"Those were my plans," Louise replied; "but, as you see, other things +have intervened. Our little house party, too, was broken up by this +abominable weather, and we all motored up to town. The Faradays have +gone home. The prince heard from Miles that I was at home, and +telephoned me to dine. _Me voici!_" + +John was struggling with a crowd of hateful thoughts. Louise was wearing +a wonderful gown; her hair was beautifully arranged; she had the air of +a woman whose toilet was complete and perfect down to the slightest +detail. The prince's slow drawl reached them distinctly. + +"It was my servant's fault, I suppose," he said. "I told him to ring up +last night and order the table for two in that corner. However, we will +take the vacant one near your desk." + +He looked around and, as if for the first time, missed Louise. He came +toward them at once. + +"The prince seems to have ordered his table last night," John remarked, +his tone, even to himself, sounding queer and strained. + +Louise made no reply. The prince was already shaking hands with Sophy. + +"I thought you were spending the week-end with my cousin, Strangewey," +he remarked, turning to John. + +"We did spend part of it together," John replied. "The weather drove us +back this afternoon." + +"I congratulate you both on your good taste," said the prince. "There is +nothing more abominable than a riverside retreat out of season. We are +taking the table on the left, Louise." + +He led her away, and they passed down the room. John slowly resumed his +seat. + +"Sophy," he demanded hoarsely, "tell me the truth. Is there anything +between the prince and Louise?" + +Sophy nervously crumbled up the toast by her side. + +"The prince admires Louise, and has done so for many years," she +answered. "No one knows anything else. Louise never speaks of him to me. +I cannot tell you." + +"But you must know," he persisted, with a little break in his voice. +"Forgive me, Sophy, if I make an ass of myself. First Lady Hilda, and +then Graillot, and then--well, I thought Louise might have rung up to +see whether I was at home, if she came back sooner than she expected; +and the prince took the table last night!" + +She leaned over and patted him on the hand. + +"Don't worry," she begged. "If Louise has to choose some day between him +and you, I don't think she'll hesitate very long. And please remember +that you were commencing to flirt with me. I insist upon it! I won't be +put off. Don't look so stern, please. You look very statuesque and +perfect, but I don't want to dine with a piece of sculpture. Remember +that I am really looking very pretty, and that I am finding you too +attractive for my peace of mind. There's your text!" + +He poured a glass of wine and drank it off. + +"I'll do my best," he agreed. "If it sounds like rubbish, you can still +believe that I appreciate everything you've told me. You are pretty, and +I am lucky to have you here. Now I'll try to make you believe that I +think so." + +She leaned over so that her head almost touched his. + +"Go on, please!" she murmured. "Even if it hurts afterward, it will be +heavenly to listen to!" + + + + + XXIV + + +The next night Sophy acted as showman. Her part was over at the end of +the first act, and a few minutes later she slipped into a seat by John's +side behind the curtain. + +"What do you think of it so far?" she asked, a little anxiously. + +"It seems quite good," John replied cheerfully. "Some very clever lines, +and all that sort of thing; but I can't quite see what it's all leading +to." + +Sophy peered around the house from behind the curtain. + +"There isn't standing-room anywhere," she declared. "I don't suppose +there ever was a play in London that was more talked about; and then +putting it off for more than three months--why, there have been all +sorts of rumors about. Do you want to know who the people in the +audience are?" + +"Not particularly," John answered. "I shouldn't know them, if you told +me. There are just a few familiar faces. I see the prince in the box +opposite." + +"Did you telephone to Louise to-day?" Sophy asked. + +John shook his head. + +"No. I thought it better to leave her alone until after to-night." + +"You are going to the supper, of course?" + +"I have been asked," John replied, a little doubtfully. "I don't quite +know whether I want to. Is it being given by the prince or by the +management?" + +"The management," Sophy assured him. "Do come and take me! It's going to +be rather fun." + +The curtain went up upon the second act. John, from the shadows of the +box, listened attentively. The subject was not a particularly new one, +but the writing was brilliant. There was the old _Marquis de Guy_, a +roue, a degenerate, but still overbearing and full of personality, from +whose lips came some of Graillot's most brilliant sayings; Louise, his +wife; and Faraday, a friend of the old marquis, and obviously the +intended lover of his wife. + +"I don't see anything so terrible in this," John remarked, as the +curtain went down once more and thunders of applause greeted some +wonderful lines of Graillot's. + +"It's wonderful!" Sophy declared. "Try and bear the thread of it all in +your mind. For two acts you have been asked to focus your attention upon +the increasing brutality of the marquis. Remember that, won't you?" + +"Not likely to forget it," John replied. "How well they all act!" + +There was a quarter of an hour's interval before the curtain rose again. +Rumors concerning the last act had been floating about for weeks, and +the house was almost tense with excitement as the curtain went up. The +scene was the country _chateau_ of the _Marquis de Guy_, who brought a +noisy crowd of companions from Paris without any warning. His wife +showed signs of dismay at his coming. He had brought with him women whom +she declined to receive. + +The great scene between her husband and herself took place in the square +hall of the _chateau_, on the first floor. The marquis is on the way to +the room of one of his guests. Louise reaffirms her intention of +leaving the house. Her husband laughs at her. Her position is helpless. + +"What can you do?" he mocks. + +She shrugs her shoulders and passes into her room. The marquis sinks +upon a settee, and presently is joined by one of the ladies who have +traveled with him from Paris. He talks to her of the pictures upon the +wall. She is impatient to meet the _Marquis de Guy_. + +The marquis knocks at his wife's door. Her voice is heard clearly, after +a moment's pause. + +"In a few minutes!" she replies. + +The marquis resumes his flirtation. His companion becomes impatient--the +marquis has pledged his word that she should be received by his wife. An +ancient enmity against the _Marquis de Guy_ prompts her to insist. + +The marquis shrugs his shoulders and knocks more loudly than ever at his +wife's door. She comes out--followed by Faraday. + +"You asked me what I could do," she says, pointing to her lover. "You +see now!" + +There was a moment's breathless silence through the house. The scene in +itself was a little beyond anything that the audience had expected. +Sophy, who had been leaning over the edge of the box, turned around in +no little anxiety. She heard the door slam. John had disappeared! + +He left the theater with only his hat in his hand, turning up his coat +by instinct as he passed through the driving rain. All his senses seemed +tingling with some nameless horror. The brilliance of the language, the +subtlety of the situation, seemed like some evil trail drawn across that +one horrible climax. It was Louise who had come from that room and +pointed to Faraday! Louise who confessed herself a-- + +He broke out into language as he walked. The desire of Samson burned in +his heart--to stride back into the theater, to smash the scenery, to +throw the puppets from the stage, one by one, to end forever this +ghastly, unspeakable play. And all the time the applause rang in his +ears. He had read with one swift glance the tense interest--almost +lascivious, it seemed to him--on the faces of that great audience. The +scene had tickled their fancies. It was to pander to such base feelings +that Louise was upon the stage! + +He reached his rooms--he scarcely knew how--and walked up-stairs. There +he threw off some of his dripping garments, opened the window wide, and +stood there. + +He looked out over the Thames, and there was a red fire before his eyes. +Stephen was right, he told himself. There was nothing but evil to be +found here, nothing but bitter disappointment, nothing but the pain +which deepens into anguish. Better to remain like Stephen, unloving and +unloved, to draw nearer to the mountains, to find joy in the crops and +the rain and the sunshine, to listen stonily to the cry of human beings +as if to some voice from an unknown world. + +He leaned a little further from the window, and gazed into the court at +a dizzy depth below. He had cut himself adrift from the peace which +might have been his. He would never know again the joys of his earlier +life. It was for this that he had fought so many battles, clung so +tightly to one ideal--for Louise, who could show herself to any one who +cared to pay his shilling or his half-guinea, glorying in her dishonor; +worse than glorying in it--finding some subtle humor in the little +gesture with which she had pointed, unashamed, to her lover. + +John bent a little lower from the window. A sudden dizziness seemed to +have come over him. Then he was forced to turn around. His door had been +quickly opened and shut. It was Sophy who was crossing toward him, the +rain streaming from her ruined opera-cloak. + +"John!" she cried. "Oh, John!" + +She led him back to his chair and knelt by his side. She held his hands +tightly. + +"You mustn't feel like this," she sobbed; "you mustn't, John, really! +You don't understand. It's all a play. Louise wouldn't really do +anything like that!" + +He shivered. Nevertheless, he clutched her hands and drew her closer to +him. + +"Do, please, listen to me," she begged. "It's all over. Louise is +herself again--Louise Maurel. The _Marquis de Guy_ never lived except +upon these boards. It is simply a wonderful creation. Any one of the +great actresses would play that part and glory in it--the very greatest, +John. Oh, it's so hard to make you understand! Louise is waiting for +you. They are all waiting at the supper-party. You are expected. You +must go and tell her that you think it was wonderful!" + +He rose slowly to his feet. + +"Wonderful!" he muttered. "Wonderful! But, child, it is damnable!" + +"Don't be foolish," she answered. "Go and put on another dress coat, tie +your tie again, and brush your hair. I have come to take you to the +supper." + +He caught at her hands roughly. + +"Supposing I won't go?" he whispered hoarsely. "Supposing--I keep you +here instead, Sophy?" + +She swayed for a moment. Something flashed into her face and passed +away. She was paler than ever. + +"Dear John," she begged, "pull yourself together! Remember that Louise +is waiting for you. It's Louise you want--not me. Nothing that she has +done to-night should make her any the less worthy of you and your love." + +He strode away into the farther room. He reappeared in a moment or two, +his hair smoothly brushed, his tie newly arranged. + +"I'll come, little girl," he promised. "I don't know what I'll say to +her, but I'll come. There can't be any harm in that!" + +"Of course not," she answered cheerfully. "You're the most terrible +goose, John," she added, as they walked down the corridor. "Do, please, +lose your tragical air. The whole world is at Louise's feet to-night. +You mustn't let her know how absurdly you have been feeling. To-morrow +you will find that every paper in London will be acclaiming her genius." + +John squared his shoulders. + +"All the same," he declared grimly, "if I could burn the theater and the +play, and lock up Graillot for a month, to-night, I'd do it!" + + + + + XXV + + +The days and weeks drifted into months, and John remained in London. His +circle of friends and his interests had widened. It was only his +relations with Louise which remained still unchanged. Always charming to +him, giving him much of her time, favoring him, beyond a doubt, more +than any of her admirers, there was yet about her something elusive, +something which seemed intended to keep him so far as possible at arm's +length. + +There was nothing tangible of which he could complain, and this +probationary period was of his own suggestion. He bore it grimly, +holding his place, whenever it was possible, by her side with dogged +persistence. Then one evening there was a knock at his door, and Stephen +Strangewey walked in. + +After all, this meeting, of which John had often thought, and which +sometimes he had dreaded a little, turned out to be a very ordinary +affair. Stephen, although he seemed a little taller and gaunter than +ever, though he seemed to bring into the perhaps overwarmed atmosphere +of John's little sitting room something of the cold austerity of his own +domain, had evidently come in no unfriendly spirit. He took both his +brother's hands in his and gripped them warmly. + +"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, Stephen!" John declared. + +"It has been an effort to me to come," Stephen admitted. "But I had it +in my mind, John, that we parted bad friends. I have come to see how +things are with you." + +"Well enough," John answered evasively. "Sit down." + +Stephen held his brother away from him, gripping his shoulders with both +hands. He looked steadily into his face. + +"Well enough you may be, John," he said, "but your looks tell a +different story. There's a look in your eyes already that they all get +here, sooner or later." + +"Nonsense!" John protested cheerfully. "No one pretends that the life +here is quite as healthy as ours, physically, but that isn't everything. +I am a little tired to-day, perhaps. One spends one's time differently +up here, you know, and there's a little more call upon the brain, a +little less upon the muscles." + +"Give me an example," Stephen suggested. "What were you doing last +night, for instance?" + +John rang the bell for some tea, took his brother's hat and stick from +his hand, and installed him in an easy chair. + +"I went to a political meeting down in the East End," he replied. "One +of the things I am trying to take a little more interest in up here is +politics." + +"No harm in that, anyway," Stephen admitted. "That all?" + +"The meeting was over about eleven," John continued. "After that I came +up here, changed my clothes, and went to a dance." + +"At that time of night?" + +John laughed. + +"Why, nothing of that sort ever begins until eleven o'clock," he +explained. "I stayed there for about an hour or so, and afterward I +went round to a club I belong to, with the Prince of Seyre and some +other men. They played bridge, and I watched." + +"So that's one of your evenings, is it?" Stephen remarked. "No great +harm in such doings--nor much good, that I can see. With the Prince of +Seyre, eh?" + +"I see him occasionally." + +"He is one of your friends now?" + +"I suppose so," John admitted, frowning. "Sometimes I think he is, +sometimes I am not so sure. At any rate, he has been very kind to me." + +"He is by way of being a friend of the young woman herself, isn't he?" +Stephen asked bluntly. + +"He has been a friend of Miss Maurel since she first went on the stage," +John replied. "It is no doubt for her sake that he has been so kind to +me." + +"And how's the courting getting on?" Stephen demanded, his steely eyes +suddenly intent. + +"None too well," John confessed. + +"Are you still in earnest about it?" + +"Absolutely! More than ever!" + +Stephen produced his pipe from his pocket, and slowly filled it. + +"She is keeping you dangling at her heels, and giving you no sort of +answer?" + +"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," John declared, +good-humoredly. "I asked her to marry me as soon as I came up, and we +both agreed to wait for a time. You see, her life has been so +extraordinarily different from mine. I have only half understood the +things which to her are like the air she breathes. She is a great +artist, and I scarcely ever leave her without feeling appallingly +ignorant. Our life down in Cumberland, Stephen, is well enough in its +way, but it leaves us outside many of the great things of life." + +"That may be true enough, boy," Stephen admitted, blowing out dense +volumes of smoke from his pipe; "but are you sure that it's toward those +great things that she is pointing you?" + +"I am sure of it," John answered earnestly. "I appreciate that in my +heart. Let us talk together, Stephen, as we used. I will admit that I +have found most of the time up here wearisome. On the other hand, I am +beginning to understand that I have been, and still am, very ignorant. +There is so much in the world that one can only learn by experience." + +"And what are you willing to pay for the knowledge?" Stephen asked. +"Your health, I suppose, your simple life, your love of the pure +ways--all these are to go into the melting-pot?" + +"There's no such payment demanded for the things I am thinking of," John +assured his brother. "Take art, for instance: We reach the fringe of it +with our books. There are pictures, even here in London, which when you +look at them, especially with one who understands, give a new vigor to +your understanding, a new resource to living. You become conscious of a +new beauty in the world, a new garden, as it were, into which one can +wander every day and yet not explore it in a lifetime. I have seen +enough, Stephen, to make me want to go to Italy. It's a shameful thing +to keep one's brain and taste unemployed!" + +"Who takes you to see the pictures?" Stephen demanded. + +"Miss Maurel, generally. She understands these things better than any +one I have ever talked with." + +"Pictures, eh?" Stephen grunted. + +"I mentioned pictures as an example," John continued; "but the love of +them includes many other things." + +"Theaters?" + +"Of course," John assented. "It's no good being narrow about theaters, +Stephen. You read books readily enough, and theaters are only living +books, after all. There is no real difference." + +"There is a difference in plays, though, as there is a difference in +books," Stephen reminded him. "What about the play Miss Maurel is acting +in now? She's a man's mistress in it, isn't she, and glories in it?" + +John, who had been walking about the room, came and sat down opposite to +his brother. He leaned a little forward. + +"Stephen," he confessed, "I loathed that play the first night I saw it. +I sha'n't forget how miserable I was. Louise was so wonderful that I +could see how she swayed all that audience just by lifting or dropping +her voice; but the story was a horror to me. The next day--well, she +talked to me. She was very kind and very considerate. She explained many +things. I try my best, now, to look at the matter from her point of +view." + +Stephen's eyes were filled for a moment with silent scorn. Then he +knocked out the ashes from his pipe. + +"You're content, then, to let the woman you want to make your wife show +herself on the stage and play the wanton for folks to grin at?" he +asked. + +John rose once more to his feet. + +"Look here, Stephen," he begged, a little wistfully, "it isn't any use +talking like that, is it? If you have come here with evil things in your +mind about the woman I love, we had better shake hands and part +quickly. She'll be my wife some day, or I shall count my life a failure, +and I don't want to feel that words have passed between us--" + +"I'll say no more, John," Stephen interrupted. "I was hoping, when I +came, that there might be a chance of seeing you back home again soon. +It's going to be an early spring. There was June sunshine yesterday. It +lay about the hillsides all day and brought the tender greens out of the +earth. It opened the crocuses, waxy yellow and white, all up the garden +border. The hedgerows down in the valley smelled of primrose and +violets. Art and pictures! I never had such schooling as you, John, but +there was old Dr. Benson at Clowmarsh--I always remember what he said +one day, just before I left. I'd been reading Ruskin, and I asked him +what art was and what it meant. 'My boy,' he answered, 'art simply +represents man's passionate desire to drag the truth out of life in half +a dozen different ways. God does it for you in the country!' They called +him an ignorant man, old Benson, for a schoolmaster, but when I'd +struggled through what I could of Ruskin, I came to the conclusion that +he and I were something of the same mind." + +"It's good to hear you talk like that, Stephen," John said earnestly. +"You're making me homesick, but what's the sense of it? For good or for +evil, I am here to wrestle with things for a bit." + +"It's no easy matter for me to open out the things that are in my +heart," Stephen answered. "I am one of the old-fashioned Strangeweys. +What I feel is pretty well locked up inside. The last time you and I met +perhaps I spoke too much; so here I am!" + +"It's fine of you," John declared. "I remember nothing of that day. We +will look at things squarely together, even where we differ. I'm--" + +He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The door had been suddenly +opened, and Sophy Gerard made a somewhat impetuous entrance. + +"I'm absolutely sick of ringing, John," she exclaimed. "Oh, I beg your +pardon! I hadn't the least idea you had any one with you." + +She stood still in surprise, a little apologetic smile upon her lips. +John hastened forward and welcomed her. + +"It's all right, Sophy," he declared. "Let me introduce my brother, may +I? My brother Stephen--Miss Sophy Gerard." + +Stephen rose slowly from his place, laid down his pipe, and bowed +stiffly to Sophy. She held out her hand, however, and smiled up at him +delightfully. + +"How nice of you to come and see your poor, lonely brother!" she said. +"We have done our best to spoil him, but I am afraid he is very homesick +sometimes. I hope you've come to stay a long time and to learn all about +London, as John is doing. If you are half as nice as he is, we'll give +you such a good time!" + +From his great height, Stephen looked down upon the girl's upturned face +a little austerely. She chattered away, entirely unabashed. + +"I do hope you're not shocked at my bursting in upon your brother like +this! We really are great pals, and I live only just across the way. We +are much less formal up here, you know, than you are in the country. +John, I've brought you a message from Louise." + +"About to-night?" + +She nodded. + +"Louise is most frightfully sorry," she explained, "but she has to go +down to Streatham to open a bazaar, and she can't possibly be back in +time to dine before the theater. Can you guess what she dared to +suggest?" + +"I think I can," John replied, smiling. + +"Say you will, there's a dear," she begged. "I am not playing to-night. +May Enser is going on in my place. We arranged it a week ago. I had two +fines to pay on Saturday, and I haven't had a decent meal this week. But +I had forgotten," she broke off, with a sudden note of disappointment in +her tone. "There's your brother. I mustn't take you away from him." + +"We'll all have dinner together," John suggested. "You'll come, of +course, Stephen?" + +Stephen shook his head. + +"Thank you," he said, "I am due at my hotel. I'm going back to +Cumberland to-morrow morning, and my errand is already done." + +"You will do nothing of the sort!" John declared. + +"Please be amiable," Sophy begged. "If you won't come with us, I shall +simply run away and leave you with John. You needn't look at your +clothes," she went on. "We can go to a grill-room. John sha'n't dress, +either. I want you to tell me all about Cumberland, where this brother +of yours lives. He doesn't tell us half enough!" + +John passed his arm through his brother's and led him away. + +"Come and have a wash, old chap," he said. + +They dined together at Luigi's, a curiously assorted trio--Sophy, +between the two men, supplying a distinctly alien note. She was always +gay, always amusing, but although she addressed most of her remarks to +Stephen, he never once unbent. He ate and drank simply, seldom speaking +of himself or his plans, and firmly negativing all their suggestions +for the remainder of the evening. Occasionally he glanced at the clock. +John became conscious of a certain feeling of curiosity, which in a +sense Sophy shared. + +"Your brother seems to me like a man with a purpose," she said, as they +stood in the entrance-hall on their way out of the restaurant. "Like a +prophet with a mission, perhaps I should say." + +John nodded. In the little passage where they stood, he and Stephen +seemed to dwarf the passers-by. The men, in their evening clothes and +pallid faces, seemed suddenly insignificant, and the women like dolls. + +"For the last time, Stephen," John said, "won't you come to a music-hall +with us?" + +"I have made my plans for the evening, thank you," Stephen replied, +holding out his hand. "Good night!" + +He left them standing there and walked off down the Strand. John, +looking after him, frowned. He was conscious of a certain foreboding. + + + + + XXVI + + +"I suppose," Sophy sighed, as they waited for a taxicab, "we shall spend +the remainder of the evening in the usual fashion!" + +"Do you mind?" John asked. + +"No," she assented resignedly. "That play will end by making a driveling +idiot of me. Only think for yourself! At first we had to rehearse an +extra month to please M. Graillot. I never had more than a dozen lines +to say, even before my part was practically cut out, but I had to be +there every time. Now it has been running for I don't know how many +nights, I have played in it half the time, and if your highness ever +vouchsafes me a few hours in the evening, you turn to me about nine +o'clock with just the same plaintive expression, and murmur something +about going on to the theater!" + +"We'll do something else to-night," John proposed heroically. "I really +had no idea that you were so fed up with it." + +Sophy shook her head. They were in the taxicab now and on their way. + +"Too late!" she sighed. "Besides, my sense of economy revolts at the +idea of your empty box. If Louise is tired to-night, though, I warn you +that I shall insist upon supper." + +"It's a bargain," John promised. "We'll drive Louise home, and then I'll +take you back to Luigi's. We haven't been out together for some time, +have we?" + +She looked up at him with a little grimace and patted his hand. + +"You have neglected me," she said. "I think all these fine ladies have +turned your head." + +She drew a little closer to him and passed her arm through his. John +made no responsive movement. He was filled with resentment at the +sensation of pleasure that her affectionate gesture gave him. + +"I might as well try to flirt with a statue!" she declared, +discontentedly. "What makes you so unlike other people, you man of +granite? You used to kiss me very clumsily when I asked you to, and +now--why, how hot your hand is!" + +John pushed her away almost roughly. + +"Yes, I know I did," he admitted, "and now I don't want to any more, do +you see? It's this cursed place and this cursed life! One's feet seem +always on the sands. I wouldn't have believed it when I first came here. +Don't tease me, Sophy," he added, turning toward her suddenly. "I am +rather inclined to despise myself these last few weeks. Don't make me +worse--don't make me loathe myself!" + +She shrugged her shoulders a little pettishly as she leaned back in the +cab. + +"You are nothing but a crank," she declared; "you and your brother, too! +You've lived among those flinty rocks till you've become almost like +them yourselves." + +The taxi drew up at the theater. John, with a little sigh of relief, was +already out upon the pavement. Sophy's eyes were still shining at him +through her veil, as she walked lightly and gracefully by his side, but +he led the way in silence down the stairs to the box that he had taken +for the season. + +"And now," she exclaimed with a pout, as she leaned back in the corner, +"my little reign is over! You will sit in the front seat and you will +look at Louise, and feel Louise, and your eyes will shine Louise, until +the moment for your escape comes, when you can go round to the back and +meet her; and then you will try to make excuses to get rid of me, so +that you can drive her home alone!" + +"Rubbish, Sophy!" he answered, as he drew a chair to her side. "You know +quite well that I can't sit in the front of the box, for the very +prosaic reason that I haven't changed my clothes. We shall both have to +linger here in the shadows." + +"Well, there is some comfort in that, at any rate," Sophy confessed. "If +I become absolutely overcome by my emotions, I can hold your hand." + +"You had better not," John observed. "The stage manager has his eye on +you. If his own artists won't behave in the theater, what can he expect +of the audience?" + +Sophy made a little grimace. "If they stop my three pounds a week," she +murmured, "I shall either have to starve or become your valet!" + +The curtain was up and the play in progress--a work of genius rather in +its perfectly balanced development and its phraseology than in any +originality of motive. Louise, married as an ingenue, so quickly +transformed into the brilliant woman of society poking mild fun at the +unsympathetic husband to whom she has been sold while still striving to +do her duty as a wife, easily dominated every situation. The witty +speeches seemed to sparkle upon her lips. While she was upon the stage, +every spoken sentence was listened to with rapt attention. Graillot, +seated as usual among the shadows of the opposite box, moved his head +appreciatively each time she spoke, as if punctuating the measured +insolence of her brilliance. + +Exquisitely gowned, full of original and daring gestures, she moved +about the stage as if her feet scarcely touched the boards. She was full +of fire and life in the earlier stages of the comedy. She heaped mild +ridicule upon her husband and his love-affairs, exchanged light sallies +with her guests, or parried with resourceful subtlety the constant +appeals of the man she loved. + +The spell of it all, against which he had so often fought, came over +John anew. He set his chair back against the wall and watched and +listened, a veritable sense of hypnotism creeping over his senses. +Presently the same impulse which had come to him so many times before +induced him to turn his head, to read in the faces of the audience the +reflection of her genius. He had often watched those long lines of faces +changing, each in its own way, under the magic of her art. To-night he +looked beyond. He knew very well that his search had a special object. +Suddenly he gripped the arms of his chair. In the front row of the pit, +sitting head and shoulders taller than the men and women who lounged +over the wooden rest in front of them, was Stephen. More than ever, +among these unappropriate surroundings, he seemed to represent something +almost patriarchal, a forbidding and disapproving spirit sitting in +judgment upon some modern and unworthy wantonness. His face, stern and +grave, showed little sign of approval or disapproval, but to John's +apprehending eyes the critical sense was there, the verdict foredoomed. +He understood as in a flash that Stephen had come there to judge once +more the woman whom his brother desired. + +At last the second act ended, and John pushed back his chair. Sophy, +whose apprehensions were remarkably acute, especially where John was +concerned, lifted the edge of the curtain and understood. She exchanged +a quick glance with her companion. + +"He won't like it!" she whispered. + +"If only we could get him away before the next act!" John muttered. + +They both glanced once more into the auditorium below. Many of the +spectators had left their places to stroll about. Not so Stephen. +Unflinchingly he sat there, with an air of dogged patience. He had +bought a program and was reading the names, one by one. + +"Is there nothing we can do?" Sophy asked. "Couldn't we send a +message--persuade him that the last act isn't worth staying for?" + +John shook his head. + +"Stephen has come here with a purpose," he said gloomily. "I might have +guessed it. He will see it through. He will sit there till the end." + +The curtain went up again and the play moved on, with subtle yet +inevitable dramatic power, toward the hated and dreaded crisis. Louise's +moment of combined weakness and strength was so wonderfully natural, so +very human, that its approach sent a thrill of anticipation through the +audience. The intense lifelikeness of the play predominated over every +other feeling. It was as if real things were happening, as if they were +watching and listening to a woman at the moment of her choice. And then +at last the tense moment, the sudden cessation of her husband's foolish +laughter and futile taunts, the supreme denouement with its interval of +breathless silence. + +John, who was slowly tearing his program to pieces, turned his head +toward the spot where his brother was sitting in the dimmer light. +Stephen's countenance seemed to have changed into the color as well as +the likeness of those granite rocks. The line of faces on either side of +him appeared now curiously featureless. His eyes were still riveted upon +that closed door, his eyebrows had come together in a stupendous frown. + +Sophy had parted the curtain and was peeping through. + +"Nothing in the world could make him understand!" she murmured. "Do you +think it would be of any use if we met him outside?" + +John shook his head. + +"You can't convince people," he replied, "when you are unconvinced +yourself." + +The play came to an end presently, amid a storm of applause. The grim +figure in the front of the pit remained motionless and silent. He was +one of the last to leave, and John watched his retreating figure with a +sigh. Sophy drew him away. + +"We had better hurry round," she said. "Louise is always very quick +getting ready." + +They found her, as a matter of fact, in the act of leaving. She welcomed +them naturally enough, but John fancied that her greeting showed some +signs of embarrassment. + +"You knew that I was going out to supper to-night?" she asked. "Or +didn't I tell you? The prince has asked the French people from His +Majesty's to meet M. Graillot at supper. I am hurrying home to dress." + +John handed her into her waiting automobile in silence. She glanced into +his face. + +"Is anything the matter?" she asked. + +"Nothing!" + +"The prince would have asked you, without a doubt," Louise continued, +"but he knows that you are not really interested in the stage, and this +party is entirely French--they do not speak a word of English. _Au +revoir!_ Sophy, take care of him, and mind you behave yourselves!" + +She waved her hand to them both and threw herself back among the +cushions as the car glided off. John walked to the corner of the street +in gloomy silence. Then he remembered his companion. He stopped short. + +"Sophy," he begged, "don't hold me to my promise. I don't want to take +you out to supper to-night. I am not in the humor for it." + +"Don't be foolish!" she replied. "If you stay alone, you will only +imagine things and be miserable. We needn't have any supper, unless you +like. Let me come and sit in your rooms with you." + +"No!" he decided, almost roughly. "I am losing myself, Sophy. I am +losing something of my strength every day. Louise doesn't help as she +might. Don't stay with me, please. I am beginning to have moods, and +when they come on I want to be alone." + +She drew a little closer to him. + +"Let me come, please!" she begged, with a pathetic, almost childlike +quiver at the corner of her lips. + +He looked down at her. A sudden wave of tenderness swept every other +thought from his mind. His mental balance seemed suddenly restored. He +hailed a passing taxi and handed Sophy into it. + +"What a selfish pig I am!" he exclaimed. "Anyhow, it's all over now. +We'll go back to Luigi's to supper, by all means. I am going to make you +tell me all about that young man from Bath!" + + + + + XXVII + + +Louise glanced at her watch, sat up in bed, and turned reproachfully +toward Aline. + +"Aline, do you know it is only eleven o'clock?" she exclaimed. + +"I am very sorry, _madame_," the latter hastened to explain, "but there +is a gentleman down-stairs who wishes to see you. He says he will wait +until you can receive him. I thought you would like to know." + +"A gentleman at this hour of the morning?" Louise yawned. "How absurd! +Anyhow, you ought to know better than to wake me up before the proper +time." + +"I am very sorry, _madame_," Aline replied. "I hesitated for some time, +but I thought you would like to know that the gentleman was here. It is +Mr. Stephen Strangewey--Mr. John's brother." + +Louise clasped her knees with her fingers and sat thinking. She was wide +awake now. + +"He has been here some time already, _madame_," Aline continued. "I did +not wish to disturb you, but I thought perhaps it was better for you to +know that he was here." + +"Quite right, Aline," Louise decided. "Go down and tell him that I will +see him in half an hour, and get my bath ready at once." + +Louise dressed herself simply but carefully. She could conceive of but +one reason for Stephen's presence in her house, and it rather amused +her. It was, of course, no friendly visit. He had come either to +threaten or to cajole. Yet what could he do? What had she to fear? She +went over the interview in her mind, imagining him crushed and subdued +by her superior subtlety and finesse. + +With a little smile of coming triumph upon her lips she descended the +stairs and swept into her pleasantly warmed and perfumed little +drawing-room. She even held out her hand cordially to the dark, grim +figure whose outline against the dainty white wall seemed so +inappropriate. + +"This is very nice of you indeed, Mr. Strangewey," she began. "I had no +idea that you had followed your brother's example and come to town." + +She told herself once more that her slight instinct of uneasiness had +been absurd. Stephen's bow, although a little formal and austere, was +still an acknowledgment of her welcome. The shadows of the room, +perhaps, had prevented him from seeing her outstretched hand. + +"Mine is a very short visit, Miss Maurel," he said. "I had no other +reason for coming but to see John and to pay this call upon you." + +"I am greatly flattered," she told him. "You must please sit down and +make yourself comfortable while we talk. See, this is my favorite +place," she added, dropping into a corner of her lounge. "Will you sit +beside me? Or, if you prefer, draw up that chair." + +"My preference," he replied, "is to remain standing." + +She raised her eyebrows. Her tone altered. + +"It must be as you wish, of course," she continued; "only I have such +pleasant recollections of your hospitality at Peak Hall that I should +like, if there was any possible way in which I could return it--" + +"Madam," he interrupted, "you must admit that the hospitality of Peak +Hall was not willingly offered to you. Save for the force of +circumstances, you would never have crossed our threshold." + +She shrugged her shoulders. She was adapting her tone and manner to the +belligerency of his attitude. + +"Well?" + +"You want to know why I have found my way to London?" he went on. "I +came to find out a little more about you." + +"About me?" + +"To discover if there was anything about you," he proceeded +deliberately, "concerning which report had lied. I do not place my faith +in newspapers and gossip. There was always a chance that you might have +been an honest woman. That is why I came to London, and why I went to +see your play last night." + +She was speechless. It was as if he were speaking to her in some foreign +tongue. + +"I have struggled," he continued, "to adopt a charitable view of your +profession. I know that the world changes quickly, while we, who prefer +to remain outside its orbit, of necessity lose touch with its new ideas +and new fashions. So I said to myself that there should be no mistake. +For that reason I sat in a theater last night almost for the first time +in my life. I saw you act." + +"Well?" she asked almost defiantly. + +He looked down at her. All splendid self-assurance seemed ebbing away. +She felt a sudden depression of spirit, a sudden strange sense of +insignificance. + +"I have come," he said, "if I can, to buy my brother's freedom." + +"To buy your brother's freedom?" she repeated, in a dazed tone. + +"My brother is infatuated with you," Stephen declared. "I wish to save +him." + +Her woman's courage began to assert itself. She raised her eyes to his. + +"Exactly what do you mean?" she asked calmly. "In what way is any man to +be saved from me? If your brother should care for me, and I, by any +chance, should happen to care for him, in what respect would that be a +state from which he would require salvation?" + +"You make my task more difficult," he observed deliberately. "Does it +amuse you to practise your profession before one so ignorant and so +unappreciative as myself? If my brother should ever marry, it is my firm +intention that he shall marry an honest woman." + +Louise sat quite still for a moment. A flash of lightning had glittered +before her eyes, and in her ears was the crash of thunder. Her face was +suddenly strained. She saw nothing but the stern, forbidding expression +of the man who looked down at her. + +"You dare to say this to me, here in my own house?" + +"Dare? Why not? Don't people tell you the truth here in London, then?" + +She rose a little unsteadily to her feet, motioning him toward the door, +and moving toward the bell. Suddenly she sank back into her former +place, breathless and helpless. + +"Why do you waste your breath?" he asked calmly. "We are alone here, and +I--we know the truth!" + +She sat quite still, shivering a little. + +"Do we? Tell me, then, because I am curious--tell me why you are so sure +of what you say?" + +"The world has it," he replied, "that you are the mistress of the Prince +of Seyre. I came to London to satisfy myself as to the truth of that +report. Do you believe that any man living, among that audience last +night, could watch the play and know that you passed, night after night, +into your bed-chamber to meet your lover with that look upon your +face--you are a clever actress, madam--and believe that you were a woman +who was living an honest life?" + +"That seems impossible to you?" she demanded. + +"Utterly impossible!" + +"And to John?" + +"I am speaking for myself and not for my brother," Stephen replied. "Men +like him, who are assailed by a certain madness, are best left alone +with it. That is why I came to you to bargain, if I could. Is there +anything that you lack--anything which your own success and your lover, +or lovers, have failed to provide for you?" + +It was useless to try to rise; she was powerless in all her limbs. Side +by side with the anger and horror that his words aroused was a sense of +something almost grotesque, something which seemed to force an unnatural +laugh from her lips. + +"So you want to buy me off?" + +"I should be glad to believe that it was within my power to do so. I +have not John's great fortune, but I have money, the accumulated savings +of a lifetime, for which I have no better purpose. There is one more +thing, too, to be said." + +"Another charge?" + +"Not that," he told her; "only it is better for you to understand that +if you turn me from your house this morning, I shall still feel the +necessity of saving my brother from you." + +"Saving him from me?" she exclaimed, rising suddenly and throwing out +her arms. "Do you know what you are talking about? Do you know that if I +consented to think of your brother as my husband, there is not a man in +London who would not envy him? Look at me! I am beautiful, am I not? I +am a great artist. I am Louise Maurel, and I have made myself famous by +my own work and my own genius. What has your brother done in life to +render him worthy of the sacrifice I should make if I chose to give him +my hand? You had better go back to Cumberland, Mr. Strangewey. You do +not see life as we see it up here!" + +"And what about John?" he asked, without moving. "You tempted him away. +Was it from wantonness, or do you love him?" + +"Love him?" she laughed. "I hate you both! You are boors--you are +ignorant people. I hate the moment I ever saw either of you. Take John +back with you. Take him out of my life. There is no place there for +him!" + +Stephen picked up his hat from the sofa where it lay. Louise remained +perfectly still, her breath coming quickly, her eyes lit with passion. + +"Madam," he said, "I am sorry to have distressed you, but the truth +sometimes hurts the most callous of us. You have heard the truth from +me. I will take John back to Cumberland with me, if he will come. If he +will not--" + +"Take him with you!" she broke in fiercely. "He will do as I bid him--do +you hear? If I lift my little finger, he will stay. It will be I who +decide, I--" + +"But you will not lift your little finger," he interrupted grimly. + +"Why shouldn't I, just to punish you?" she demanded. "There are scores +of men who fancy themselves in love with me. If I choose, I can keep +them all their lives hanging to the hem of my skirt, praying for a word, +a touch. I can make them furious one day and penitent the next--wretched +always, perhaps, but I can keep them there. Why should I not treat your +brother in the same way?" + +He seemed suddenly to dilate. She was overcome with a sense of some +latent power in the man, some commanding influence. + +"Because," he declared, "I am the guardian of my brother's happiness. +Whoever trifles with it shall in the future reckon with me!" + +His eyes were fixed upon her soft, white throat. His long, lean fingers +seemed suddenly to be drawing near to her. She watched him, fascinated. +She was trying to scream. Even after he had turned away and left her, +after she had heard his measured tramp descending the stairs, her +fingers flew to her throat. She held herself tightly, standing there +with beating heart and throbbing pulses. It was not until the front door +had closed that she had the strength to move, to throw herself face +downward upon the couch. + + + + + XXVIII + + +Louise ate a very small luncheon, but--an unusual thing for her--she +drank two glasses of wine. Just as she had finished, Sophy came in, with +ink-stained fingers and a serious expression. + +"You silly child!" Louise exclaimed. "No one told me you were here. Have +you had any lunch?" + +"Long ago," Sophy replied. "I have been finishing your accounts." + +Louise made a little grimace. + +"Tell me the worst," she begged. + +"You are overdrawn at your bank, your bills are heavier than ever this +month, and there are five or six special accounts--one for some electric +fittings, another for the hire of a motor-car--which ought to be paid." + +"People are always wanting money!" Louise declared pettishly. + +"People always will want money," Sophy retorted, "so long as you earn +three thousand a year and spend four or five thousand!" + +Louise selected a cigarette and lit it. + +"Instead of scolding me, child," she yawned, "suppose you suggest +something?" + +"What is there to suggest?" Sophy replied. "Your bank has written you to +put your overdraft straight at once--it comes to about two hundred and +seventy pounds. There are bills, for which the people are asking for +payment, and which come to about as much again. You've nothing but your +hundred pounds a week, and you're spending half of that, as it is." + +Louise flicked the ash from her cigarette. + +"And even you, my child, don't know the worst," she remarked. "There's +Fenillon, my dressmaker. She doesn't send me a bill at all, but I owe +her nearly six hundred pounds. I have to wear a shockingly unbecoming +gown in the second act, as it is, just because she's getting +disagreeable." + +"Well, I've tried to set things straight," Sophy declared. "You'll have +either to marry or to borrow some money. You can't go on much longer!" + +Louise was looking up at the ceiling. She sighed. + +"It would be nice," she said, "to have some one to pay one's bills and +look after one, and see that one wasn't too extravagant." + +"Well, you need some one badly," Sophy asserted. "I suppose you mean to +make up your mind to it some day." + +"I wonder!" Louise murmured. "Did you know that that terrible man from +the hills--John Strangewey's brother--has been here this morning? He +frightened me almost to death." + +"What did he want?" Sophy asked curiously. + +"He was a trifle vague," Louise remarked. "I gathered that if I don't +send John back to Cumberland, he's going to strangle me." + +Sophy leaned across the table. + +"Are you going to send him back?" she asked. + +"I am in an uncertain frame of mind," Louise confessed. "I really can't +decide about anything." + +Sophy poured herself out some coffee. + +"I think," she said, "that you'll have to decide about John before +long." + +"About John, indeed!" Louise exclaimed lightly. "Who gave you the right +to call him by his Christian name?" + +Sophy colored. + +"I suppose I have just dropped into it," she remarked. "Tell me what you +have decided to do, Louise?" + +"Why should I do anything at all?" + +"You know very well," Sophy insisted, "that you have encouraged John +Strangewey shamefully. You have persuaded him to live up here, to make +new friends, and to start an entirely new mode of life, just in the hope +that some day you will marry him." + +"Have I?" Louise asked. "Then I suppose I must keep my word--some day!" + +Sophy drew her chair a little nearer to her friend's. She passed her arm +around Louise's waist; their heads almost touched. + +"Dear Louise," she whispered, "please tell me!" + +Louise was silent. Her hesitation became momentous. Her eyes seemed to +be looking through the walls. Sophy watched her breathlessly. + +"You ought to make up your mind," she went on. "You see, it isn't as if +there was no one else. There is the prince." + +Sophy felt the fingers that she was clasping grow a little colder. + +"Yes," Louise repeated, "there is the prince. Sophy, I feel that I am +drifting into an impossible position. Every day is bringing me nearer to +it." + +"I want to tell you this, Louise," Sophy said firmly. "John is getting +to know a great many people, and you know how men talk at the clubs. +Aren't you sometimes afraid that he will hear things and misunderstand?" + +"I am expecting it every day," Louise admitted. + +"Then why don't you end it?" + +"Which way?" + +There was a silence between the two women. The muffled street noises +from outside became the background to a stillness which grew every +moment more oppressive. Louise returned to her former attitude. She +looked steadfastly before her, her face supported by her hands. + +Sophy grew paler and paler as the minutes passed. There was something +strange and almost beautiful in Louise's face, something which had come +to her lately, and which shone from her eyes only at rare intervals. + +"You care for him, I believe!" Sophy cried at last. "You care for him!" + +Louise did not move. + +"Why not?" she whispered. + +"You, Louise!" Sophy gasped. "You, the great artist! Why, think of the +men who have tried to make you care--poets, musicians--so many of them, +so many famous men! It can't be true. John Strangewey is so far apart. +He doesn't belong to your world." + +Louise leaned over and stroked her little friend's hair. + +"Child," she said, "that's all very true. I have had it ringing in my +brain for longer than you would believe. But now tell me something. No, +look at me--don't be ashamed. Are you in love with John yourself?" + +Sophy never hesitated. + +"From the very first moment I saw him," she confessed. "Don't let that +bother you, dear. He would never look at me except as a little pal. I +never expected anything from him--anything serious, of course--never +dared to hope for it. I have thrown myself at his head in the most +shameless manner. It is all no good. I never met any one like him +before. Louise, do you know that he is good--really good?" + +"I believe he is," Louise murmured. "That is what makes it so +wonderful." + +"It's all incomprehensible," Sophy declared wearily. + +There was a ring at the front door. Louise, from her place, could see +the long, gray bonnet of John's car. Almost before she could speak, he +was announced. + +"It's an atrocious time to come, I know--" he began apologetically. + +"You're in time for some coffee, anyhow," Sophy told him cheerfully. +"And I know Louise is glad to see you, because if you hadn't come I was +going to make her go through some accounts." + +"You know I am always glad to see you," Louise murmured, pointing to a +chair. "Sophy and I have been having a most interesting discussion, but +we have come to a _cul-de-sac_." + +"I really came," John explained, "to ask if you cared to come and see a +collection of pictures. There's an Italian--a Futurist, of course--just +unpacked his little lot and set them up over a curiosity-shop in +Clifford Street. He is sending out cards for next week, but I could take +you to-day--that is, if you would care about it. We can go somewhere for +some tea afterward." + +Louise made a little grimace. + +"What bad luck!" she exclaimed. + +She stopped short. She felt that by her hesitation she had, in a sense, +committed herself. + +"I have promised to go and have tea with the prince at Seyre House," she +said. "It is an engagement we made last week." + +John set down his empty coffee-cup with a clatter. An inexplicable but +dominating fury seemed to have suddenly assailed him. He took out a +cigarette and tried to light it. Sophy, after watching him for a moment +in astonishment, slipped out of the room. Louise came over to his side. + +"Are you really so much disappointed?" she asked. "I am so sorry. If I +had known that you were coming for me, I would have kept myself free." + +"It isn't that exactly," John answered. "It's something I can't +altogether explain. If you don't mind, I think I will be going. There is +something I must put right." + +He left without another word. She watched him step into his new +motor-car and drive away a little recklessly, considering the crowded +state of the streets. He drew up, a few minutes later, outside the club +in Pall Mall, where, as it chanced, he had lunched that day with the +Prince of Seyre. + +He found the prince still sitting in the smoking room, reading a review, +over the top of which he glanced up as John approached, and nodded +nonchalantly. + +"Back again?" he murmured. + +"I came back to have a word with you, prince." + +The prince laid down the review, keeping his finger in the place. + +"Delighted!" + +"Not long ago," John went on, "in this room, some one--I think it was +Major Charters--asked you what you were doing this afternoon. You +replied that you were engaged. There were several others present, and +they began to chaff you. Perhaps I joined in--I don't remember. I think +that it was Major Charters who asked you, to use his own words, whether +your appointment was with a lady. You replied in the affirmative. There +was a little volley of chaff. You listened without contradiction to many +references concerning the nature of your afternoon's amusement." + +The prince nodded slightly. His face remained quite expressionless. + +"As a matter of fact," John concluded, "I have discovered by the purest +accident that Miss Maurel is to be your guest this afternoon at Seyre +House." + +The prince inclined his head gently. He remained monosyllabic. + +"Well?" + +John frowned heavily. + +"Can't you see," he went on bluntly, "that if any one of those men who +were present, and heard what was said about your guest, found out +afterward that it was Miss Maurel who came to see you--well, I need not +go on, need I? I am sure you understand. The things which were hinted at +could not possibly apply to her. Would you mind sending a note to Miss +Maurel and asking her to have tea with you some other afternoon?" + +"And why the deuce should I do that?" the prince asked, a trifle paler, +but entirely self-possessed. + +"To oblige me," John replied. + +The prince wiped his eye-glass carefully upon his handkerchief. + +"Mr. Strangewey, you are a very amiable young man," he said equably, "to +whom I have tried to show some kindness for Miss Maurel's sake. I really +do not see, however--pardon my putting it plainly--what business this +is of yours." + +"It is my business," John declared, "because I have asked Miss Maurel to +be my wife, and because I am hoping that some day, before very long, she +will consent." + +The prince sat quite still in his chair, his eyes fixed upon a certain +spot in the carpet. He had not even the appearance of being engaged in +thought. He seemed only steeped in a sort of passivity. Finally, with a +sigh, he rose to his feet. + +"My young friend," he decided, "your statement alters the situation. I +did not credit you with matrimonial intentions. I must see what can be +done!" + +His lips had relaxed ever so slightly--so slightly that they showed only +a glimpse of his teeth in one straight, hard line. He looked at John +mildly, and his words seemed destitute of all offense; yet John felt +that the lightnings were playing around them. + +"I shall write a note to Miss Maurel," the prince promised, as he made +his way toward the writing-table, "and ask her to visit me upon some +other afternoon." + + + + + XXIX + + +Back again to his rooms, and, later on, once more to Louise's little +house in Kensington; a few minutes' masterful pleading, and then +success. Louise wrapped herself up and descended to the street by his +side. + +For an hour or more John drove steadily westward, scarcely speaking more +than a chance word. It was twilight when he brought the car to a +standstill. Louise raised her veil and looked up. + +"Well?" she asked inquiringly. + +He pushed back the throttle on his steering-wheel and stopped the +engine. Then he turned toward her. + +"I have something to say to you," he said. "I have brought you here that +I may say it in my own way and in my own atmosphere." + +She responded instantly to his mood, although she did not yet grasp the +full significance of the situation. She leaned forward in the car, and +her eyes were lighted with interest. Into their faces a slight, +drizzling rain was carried at intervals by a gusty, north wind. The sky +was murky gray, except for one black mass of cloud that seemed bending +almost over their heads. + +Down at their feet--they had made a circuit and were facing London +again--began the long lines of feeble lights which lit the great avenues +stretching onward to the city, the lights of suburban thoroughfares, of +local railways, and here and there a more brilliant illumination of some +picture palace or place of amusement. Farther away still, the vast glow +from the heart of the city was beginning to flare against the murky +sky--here red and threatening, as if from some great conflagration; in +other places yellow, with a sicklier light of fog-strangled brilliance. + +"This is like you!" Louise murmured. "You had to bring me out to a +hilltop, on the dreariest hour of a wet March afternoon, to tell +me--what?" + +"First of all," John began, "I will answer a question which you have +asked me three times since we started out this afternoon. You wanted to +know how I found out that you were not going to tea with the prince. +Well, here is the truth. I asked the prince to change the day of your +visit to him." + +Her fine, silky eyebrows came a little closer together. + +"You asked him that?" she repeated. + +John nodded. + +"And he consented?" + +"I will explain," John continued. "It was a most unfortunate +circumstance, but in the club, after lunch, the subject of spending the +afternoon came up. The prince spoke of an engagement. He was tied at +home, he said, from four to six. Some of the men began to chaff him, and +suggested that he was entertaining some lady friend, his latest +favorite--well, I dare say you can imagine the rest," John broke off. +"The prince, thoughtlessly, I am sure, and probably to get rid of them, +pleaded guilty. Then I came down to see you, and from what you said I +discovered that it was you who were to be his visitor." + +Her fingers played nervously for a moment with the edge of the rug. She +drew it higher up. + +"Well, when I left your house the first time this afternoon, I went +straight back to the prince. I pointed out to him that after what had +been said, as it might become known that you were his guest of to-day, +it would be better for him to postpone your visit. He agreed to do so." + +"Was that all that passed between you?" + +"Not quite," John replied. "He asked me what concern it was of mine, and +I told him exactly what my concern was. I told him I hoped that some day +you would be my wife." + +She sat quite still, looking down upon the flaring lights. She was +filled with a restless desire to escape, to start the motor herself and +rush through the wet air into London and safety. And side by side with +that desire she knew that there was nothing in the world she wanted so +much as to stay just where she was, and to hear just the words she was +going to hear. + +"So much for that!" John proceeded. "And now, please listen. I have +brought you out here because under these conditions I feel more master +of myself and my thoughts, and of the things I want to say to you. +Something takes me by the throat in your little drawing-room, with its +shaded lights, its perfume of flowers, and its atmosphere of perfection. +You sit enthroned there like the queen of a world I know nothing of, and +all the time letters and flowers and flattering invitations are showered +upon you from the greatest men in London. The atmosphere there stifles +me, Louise. Out here you are a woman and I a man, and those other things +fall away. I have tried my best to come a little way into sympathy with +your life. I want you now to make up your mind to come down a little way +into mine!" + +She shook her head. + +"We are still too far apart," she murmured. "Can't you understand that +yourself?" + +"I have been a pupil for many months," he answered, turning toward her, +with one arm at the back of her cushions and the fingers of the other +hand suddenly seeking hers. "Can't you understand, if you do care a +little, if you have just a little flame of love in your heart for me, +that many of these other things which keep us apart are like the +lime-light which flashes out to give artificial light in an honest +darkness? Don't you believe, at the bottom of your heart, that you can +be happier if you will climb with me to the place where we first met, +even where the clouds lean over my own hills? You thought me very narrow +then. Perhaps I am. But I think you are beginning to understand, dear, +that that life is only a type. We can wander about where you will. My +hills are only the emblems of the things that are dear to me. There are +many countries I want to visit. I don't want to cramp your life. You +can't really be afraid of that, because it is the most widening thing in +the world that I have to give you--my love, the love of my heart and my +soul!" + +She felt the sudden snapping of every nerve in her body, the passing +away of all sense of will or resistance. She was conscious only of the +little movement toward him, the involuntary yielding of herself. She lay +back in his arms, and the kisses which closed her eyes and lips seemed +to be working some strange miracle. + +She was in some great empty space, breathing wonderful things. She was +on the hilltops, and from the heights she looked down at herself as she +had been--a poor little white-faced puppet, strutting about an +overheated stage, in a fetid atmosphere of adulation, with a brain +artificially stimulated, and a heart growing cold with selfishness. She +pitied herself as she had been. Then she opened her eyes with a start of +joy. + +"How wonderful it all is!" she murmured. "You brought me here to tell me +this?" + +"And to hear something!" he insisted. + +"I have tried not to, John," she confessed, amazed at the tremble of her +sweet, low voice. Her words seemed like the confession of a weeping +child. "I cannot help it. I do love you! I have tried not to so hard, +but now--now I shall not try any more!" + +They drove quietly down the long hill and through the dripping streets. +Not another word passed between them till they drew up outside her door. +She felt a new timidity as he handed her out, an immense gratitude for +his firm tone and intuitive tact. + +"No, I won't come in, thanks," he declared. "You have so little time to +rest and get ready for the theater." + +"You will be there to-night?" she asked. + +He laughed as if there were humor in the suggestion of his absence. + +"Of course!" + +He slipped in his clutch and drove off through the rain-gleaming streets +with the smile and air of a conqueror. Louise passed into her little +house to find a visitor waiting for her there. + + + + + XXX + + +Eugene, Prince of Seyre, had spent the early part of that afternoon in a +manner wholly strange to him. In pursuance of an order given to his +majordomo immediately on his return from the club after lunch, the great +reception rooms of Seyre House, the picture-gallery and the ballroom, +were prepared as if for a reception. Dust-sheets were swept aside, +masterpieces of painting and sculpture were uncovered, the soft +brilliance of concealed electric lights lit up many dark corners. + +When all was ready, the prince, with his hands clasped behind him, with +expressionless face and slow, thoughtful movements, passed from room to +room of the treasure-house which had come to him through a long line of +distinguished and famous men. Here and there he paused to handle with +the fingers of a connoisseur some excellent piece of bronze statuary, +some miracle of Sevres china, some treasure of carved ivory, yellow with +age. And more than once he stood still for several minutes in rapt +contemplation of one of the great masterpieces with which the walls were +hung. + +As he passed, a solitary figure, from one to another of that long chain +of lofty, palatial rooms, his stature seemed more than ever +insignificant; yet he walked always with the dignity of the master. +Notwithstanding the slight excesses of his immaculate morning dress, his +pallid features, his insignificant build, he appeared to belong to +these things, to dominate them, to understand them. Every beautiful +object upon which he looked brought back to his memory some reminiscence +of his years of travel. He knew the history of the chinas and the +bronzes, the statuary and the lacquer-work, the friezes, and the great +pictures which adorned his house. Perhaps, he thought, as he paused to +study some Italian tapestry of his own discovery, he had spent too many +years in the contemplative life. + +There had been many careers open to him in his younger days. France was +still his own country, and he might easily have joined the long line of +soldiers whose portraits filled one side of the picture-gallery. Once he +had had ambitions, either to wield the sword or to take his place in the +world of diplomacy. It was his political inheritance which had deadened +them, the awful debt of blood that he still owed to the enemies of his +race. He had found the spirit of patriotism dead within him, and in that +day he had turned his back upon his country. Since then he had carried +his great name through the pleasure places of the world, always +upholding its dignity, perhaps, but never adding to its luster. + +He was forty-one years old that day, and the few words which John had +spoken to him barely an hour ago had made him realize that there was +only one thing in life that he desired. The sight of his treasures +merely soothed his vanity. It left empty and unsatisfied his fuller and +deeper desire of living. He told himself that his time had come. Others +of his race had paid a great price for the things they had coveted in +life. He, too, must follow their example. + +He was in Louise's drawing-room when she returned--Louise, with hair and +cheeks a little damp, but with a wonderful light in her eyes and with +footsteps that seemed to fall upon air. + +"Some tea and a bath this moment, Aline!" she called out, as she ran +lightly up the stairs. "Never mind about dinner, I am so late. I will +have some toast. Be quick!" + +"_Madame_--" Aline began. + +"Don't bother me about anything now," Louise interrupted. "I will throw +my things off while you get the bath ready." + +She stepped into her little room, throwing off her cloak as she entered. +Then she stopped short, almost upon the threshold. The prince had risen +to his feet. + +"Eugene!" + +He came toward her. Even as he stooped to kiss her fingers, his eyes +seemed to take in her disheveled condition, the little patches of color +in her cheeks, the radiant happiness which shone in her eyes. + +"I am not an unwelcome intruder, I hope," he said. "But how wet you +are!" + +The fingers which he released fell nervelessly to her side. She stood +looking at him as if confronted with a sudden nightmare. It was as if +this new-found life were being slowly drained from her veins. + +"You are overtired," he murmured, leading her with solicitude toward an +easy chair. "One would imagine, from your appearance, that I was the +bearer of some terrible tidings. Let me assure you that it is not so." + +He spoke with his usual deliberation, but she seemed powerless to +recover herself. She was still dazed and white. She sank into the chair +and looked at him. + +"Nothing, I trust," he went on, "has happened to disturb you?" + +"Nothing at all," she declared hastily. "I am tired. I ran up-stairs +perhaps a little too quickly. Aline had not told me that there was any +one here." + +"I had a fancy to see you this afternoon," the prince explained, "and, +finding you out, I took the liberty of waiting. If you would rather I +went away and came for you later, please do not hesitate to say so." + +"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I do not know why I should have been so +silly. Aline, take my coat and veil," she directed, turning to the maid, +who was lingering at the other end of the room. "I am not wet. Serve +some tea in here. I will have my bath later, when I change to go to the +theater." + +She spoke bravely, but fear was in her heart. She tried to tell herself +that this visit was a coincidence, that it meant nothing, but all the +time she knew otherwise. + +The door closed behind Aline, and they were alone. The prince, as if +anxious to give her time to recover herself, walked to the window and +stood for some moments looking out. When he turned around, Louise had at +least nerved herself to meet what she felt was imminent. + +The prince approached her deliberately. She knew what he was going to +say. + +"Louise," he began, drawing a chair to her side, "I have found myself +thinking a great deal about you during the last few weeks." + +She did not interrupt him. She simply waited and watched. + +"I have come to a certain determination," he proceeded; "one which, if +you will grace it with your approval, will give me great happiness. I +ask you to forget certain things which have passed between us. I have +come to you to-day to beg you to do me the honor of becoming my wife." + +She turned her head very slowly until she was looking him full in the +face. Her lips were a little parted, her eyes a little strained. The +prince was leaning toward her in a conventional attitude; his words had +been spoken simply and in his usual conversational manner. There was +something about him, however, profoundly convincing. + +"Your wife!" Louise repeated. + +"If you will do me that great honor." + +It seemed at first as if her nerves were strained to the breaking-point. +The situation was one with which her brain seemed unable to grapple. She +set her teeth tightly. Then she had a sudden interlude of wonderful +clear-sightedness. She was almost cool. + +"You must forgive my surprise, Eugene," she begged. "We have known each +other now for some twelve years, have we not?--and I believe that this +is the first time you have ever hinted at anything of the sort!" + +"One gathers wisdom, perhaps, with the years," he replied. "I am +forty-one years old to-day. I have spent the early hours of this +afternoon in reflection, and behold the result!" + +"You have spoken to me before," she said slowly, "of different things. +You have offered me a great deal in life, but never your name. I do not +understand this sudden change!" + +"Louise," he declared, "if I do not tell you the truth now, you will +probably guess it. Besides, this is the one time in their lives when a +man and a woman should speak nothing but the truth. It is for fear of +losing you--that is why." + +Her self-control suddenly gave way. She threw herself back in her chair. +She began to laugh and stopped abruptly, the tears streaming from her +eyes. The prince leaned forward. He took her hands in his, but she drew +them away. + +"You are too late, Eugene!" she said. "I almost loved you. I was almost +yours to do whatever you liked with. But somehow, somewhere, +notwithstanding all your worldly knowledge and mine, we missed it. We do +not know the truth about life, you and I--at least you do not, and I did +not." + +He rose very slowly to his feet. There was no visible change in his face +save a slight whitening of the cheeks. + +"And the sequel to this?" he asked. + +"I have promised to marry John Strangewey," she told him. + +"That," he replied, "is impossible! I have a prior claim." + +The light of battle flamed suddenly in her eyes. Her nervousness had +gone. She was a strong woman, face to face with him now, taller than he, +seeming, indeed, to tower over him in the splendor of her anger. She was +like a lioness threatened with the loss of the one dear thing. + +"Assert it, then!" she cried defiantly. "Do what you will. Go to him +this minute, if you have courage enough, if it seems to you well. Claim, +indeed! Right! I have the one right every woman in the world +possesses--to give herself, body and soul, to the man she loves! That is +the only claim and the only right I recognize, and I am giving myself to +him, when he wants me, forever!" + +She stopped suddenly. Neither of them had heard a discreet knock at the +door. Aline had entered with the tea. There was a moment of silence. + +"Put it down here by my side, Aline," her mistress ordered, "and show +the Prince of Seyre out." + +Aline held the door open. For a single moment the prince hesitated. Then +he picked up his hat and bowed. + +"Perhaps," he said, "this may not be the last word!" + + + + + XXXI + + +Jennings stood with a decanter in his hand, looking resentfully at his +master's untasted wine. He shook his head ponderously. Not only was the +wine untouched, but the _Cumberland Times_ lay unopened upon the table. +Grim and severe in his high-backed chair, Stephen Strangewey sat with +his eyes fixed upon the curtained window. + +"There's nothing wrong with the wine, I hope, sir?" the man asked. "It's +not corked or anything, sir?" + +"Nothing is the matter with it," Stephen answered. "Bring me my pipe." + +Jennings shook his head firmly. + +"There's no call for you, sir," he declared, "to drop out of your old +habits. You shall have your pipe when you've drunk that glass of port, +and not before. Bless me! There's the paper by your side, all unread, +and full of news, for I've glanced it through myself. Corn was higher +yesterday at Market Ketton, and there's talk of a bad shortage of fodder +in some parts." + +Stephen raised his glass to his lips and drained its contents. + +"Now bring me my pipe, Jennings," he ordered. + +The old man was still disposed to grumble. + +"Drinking wine like that as if it were some public-house stuff!" he +muttered, as he crossed the room, toward the sideboard. "It's more a +night, this, to my way of thinking, for drinking a second glass of wine +than for shilly-shallying with the first. There's the wind coming across +Townley Moor and down the Fells strong enough to blow the rocks out of +the ground. It 'minds me of the time Mr. John was out with the +Territorials, and they tried the moor for their big guns." + +The rain lashed the window-panes, and the wind whistled past the front +of the house. Stephen sat quite still, as if listening--it may have been +to the storm. + +"Well, here's your pipe, sir," Jennings continued, laying it by his +master's side, "and your tobacco and the matches. If you'd smoke less +and drink a glass or two more of the right stuff, it would be more to my +liking." + +Stephen filled his pipe with firm fingers. Then he laid it down, unlit, +by his side. + +"Bring me back the port, Jennings," he ordered, "and a glass for +yourself." + +Jennings obeyed promptly. Stephen filled both glasses, and the two men +looked at each other as they held them out. + +"Here's confusion to all women!" Stephen said, as he raised his to his +lips. + +"Amen, sir!" Jennings muttered. + +They set down the two empty glasses. Stephen lit his pipe. He sat +smoking stolidly, blowing out great clouds of smoke. Jennings retreated, +coughing resentfully. + +"Spoils the taste of good wine, that tobacco do," he snapped. "Good port +like that should be left to lie upon the palate, so to speak. Bless me, +what's that?" + +Above the roar of the wind came another and unmistakable sound. The +front door had been opened and shut. There were steps upon the stone +floor of the hall--firm, familiar steps. + +Jennings, with his mouth open, stood staring at the door. Stephen slowly +turned his head. The hand which held his pipe was as firm as a rock, but +there was a queer little gleam of expectation in his eyes. Then the door +was thrown open and John entered. The rain was dripping from his +clothes. He was breathless from his struggle with the elements. + +The two other men looked at him fixedly. They both realized the same +thing at the same moment--there was no trace of the returned prodigal in +John's countenance, or in his buoyant expression. The ten-mile ride +seemed to have brought back all his color. + +"Master John!" Jennings faltered. + +Stephen said nothing. John crossed the room and gripped his brother's +hand. + +"Wet through to the skin, and starving!" he declared. "I thought I'd +find something at Ketton, but it was all I could do to get Gibson, at +the George, to lend me a horse. Give me a glass of wine, Jennings. I'll +change my clothes--I expect you've kept them aired." + +Not a word of explanation concerning his sudden return, nor did either +of the two ask any questions. They set the bell clanging in the +stable-yard and found shelter for the borrowed horse. Presently, in dry +clothes, John sat down to a plentiful meal. His brother watched him with +a grim smile. + +"You haven't forgotten how to eat in London, John," he remarked. + +"If I had, a ten-mile ride on a night like this would help me to +remember! How's the land doing?" + +"Things are backward. The snow lay late, and we've had drying winds." + +"And the stock?" + +"Moderate. We are short of heifers. But you didn't come back from London +to ask about the farm." + +John pushed back his plate and drew his chair opposite to his brother's. + +"I did not," he assented. "I came back to tell you my news." + +"I was thinking that might be it," Stephen muttered. + +John crossed the room, found his pipe in a drawer, filled it with +tobacco, and lit it. + +"Old man," he said, as he returned to his place, "it's all very well for +you and old Jennings to put your heads together every night and drink +confusion to all women; but you know very well that if there are to be +any more Strangeweys at Peak Hall, either you or I must marry!" + +Stephen moved uneasily in his chair. + +"If you're going to marry that woman--" he began. + +"I am going to marry Louise Maurel," John interrupted firmly. "Stephen, +listen to me for a moment before you say another word, please. It is all +settled. She has promised to be my wife. I don't forget what we've been +to each other. I don't forget the old name and the old tradition; but I +have been fortunate enough to meet a woman whom I love, and I am going +to marry her. Don't speak hurriedly, Stephen! Think whatever you will, +but keep it to yourself. Some day I shall expect you to give me your +hand and tell me you are glad." + +Stephen knocked the ashes deliberately from his pipe. + +"I will tell you this much now," he said. "I had rather that we +Strangeweys died out, that the roof dropped off Peak Hall and the walls +stood naked to the sky, than that this woman should be your wife and the +mother of your children!" + +"Let it go at that, then, Stephen," John replied. "It is enough for me +to say that I will not take it ill from you, because you do not know +her." + +"But I do know her," Stephen answered. "Perhaps she didn't tell you that +I paid her a visit?" + +"You paid her a visit?" + +"Aye, that I did! She wouldn't tell you. There'll be many a thing in +life she won't tell you. I went to let her hear from my lips what I +thought of her as a wife for you. I told her what I thought of a woman +who plays the part of a wanton--" + +"Stephen!" John thundered. + +"The part of an adulterous wife upon the stage for every man and woman +who pay their silver to go and gape at! It seems I did no good--no good, +that is, if she has promised to marry you." + +John drew a breath. His task was harder, even, than he had imagined. All +the time he tried to keep one thought fixed in his mind. Stephen was his +elder brother. It was Stephen who had been his guardian and his guide +through all his youth. He thought of Stephen's fifty odd years of simple +and strenuous living, of his charity, of his strength--that very +strength which had kept him in the narrow way, which had kept him from +looking to the right or to the left in his walk through life. + +"Stephen," John said, "you are growing harder with the years. Was there +never a time, when you were younger, when you were my age, when you felt +differently toward women?" + +"Never, thank Heaven!" Stephen replied. "I was too near the sorrow that +fell upon our house when our father died with a broken heart. There were +the other two as well--one with a bullet in his brain, the other a +drunkard. Maybe, when I was your age, I felt at times what I suppose you +feel. Well, I just took it in both hands and strangled it. If you must +have a sweetheart, why don't you take the little fair-haired +girl--Sophy, you called her? She'd do you as little harm as any of +them." + +"Because it is not a sweetheart of that sort I want," John protested +vigorously. "I've had the same feelings as most men, I suppose, but I've +fought my battle out to the end, only for a different reason. I want a +wife and I want children." + +"Will she bring you children, that woman?" Stephen asked bitterly. + +"I hope so," John asserted simply. "I believe so." + +There was a moment's silence. Stephen lit his pipe and puffed steadily +at it, his eyes fixed upon the log that blazed on the hearth. + +"There is a muzzle upon my mouth," he said presently. "There are words +close to my lips which would part you and me, so I'll say no more. Go +your own way, John. I'll ask you but one more question, and you must +take that as man from man, brother from brother. How old is she?" + +"Twenty-seven." + +"And she has been an actress, playing parts like the one I saw her in, +for how long?" + +"Since she was nineteen," John replied. + +"And you believe she's a good woman?" + +John gripped at the sides of his chair. With a tremendous effort he kept +the torrent of words from his lips. + +"I know she is," he answered calmly. + +"Has she told you so?" + +"A man has no need to put such a question to the woman he cares for." + +"Then you haven't asked her?" + +John laid down his pipe and rose to his feet. He gripped his brother by +the arm. + +"Stephen," he said, "it's a hard fight for me, this, to sit face to face +with you and know what you are thinking, with the love for this woman +strong and sweet in my heart. You don't understand, Stephen; you're a +long way from understanding. But you are my brother. Don't make it too +hard! I am not a child. Believe in me. I would not take any woman to be +my wife, and the mother of my children, who was not a good woman. I am +off to-morrow morning, Stephen. I came all the way just on an impulse, +because I felt that I must tell you myself. It would be one of the best +things in the world to ride that ten miles back again to-morrow morning, +to have told you how things are, to have felt your hand in mine, and to +know that there was no shadow of misunderstanding between us!" + +Stephen, too, rose to his feet. They stood together before the fire. + +"Man to man, John," Stephen said, as he gripped his brother by the +hands, "I love you this moment as I always have done and as I always +shall do. And if this thing must be between us, I'll say but one last +word, and you'll take it from me, even though I am the only man on earth +you'd take it from. Before you marry, ask her!" + + + + + XXXII + + +John went back to town, telling himself that all had gone as well as he +had expected. He had done his duty. He had told Stephen his news, and +they had parted friends. Yet all the time he was conscious of an +undercurrent of disconcerting thoughts. + +Louise met him at the station, and he fancied that her expression, too, +although she welcomed him gaily enough, was a little anxious. + +"Well?" she asked, as she took his arm and led him to where her +motor-car was waiting. "What did that terrible brother of yours say?" + +John made a little grimace. + +"It might have been worse," he declared. "Stephen wasn't pleased, of +course. He hates women like poison, and he always will. That is because +he doesn't know very much about them, and because he will insist upon +dwelling upon certain unhappy incidents of our family history." + +"I shall never forget the morning he came to call on me," Louise sighed. +"He threatened all sorts of terrible things if I did not give you up." + +"Why didn't you tell me about it?" John asked. + +"I thought it might worry you," she replied, "and it couldn't do any +good. He believed he was doing his duty. John, you are sure about +yourself, aren't you?" + +"Come and have tea with me in my rooms, and I'll tell you," he laughed. + +"Just what I'd planned to do," she assented, with a sigh of content. +"It's too late to go home and get back to the theater comfortably." + +"The theater!" John murmured, a few minutes later, when they were seated +in his comfortable little sitting room and he had ordered tea. "Do you +know that I grudge those three or four hours of your day?" + +"I believe I do, too," she admitted; "and yet a little while ago it was +my only pleasure in life. Don't sit over there, please! You are much too +far away. Closer still! Let me feel your arms. You are strong and brave, +aren't you, John? You would not let any one take me away from you?" + +He was a little startled by the earnestness of her words. She seemed +pale and fragile, her eyes larger and deeper than usual, and her mouth +tremulous. She was like a child with the shadow of some fear hanging +over her. He laughed and held her tightly to him. + +"There is nothing that could take you away--you know that quite well! +There is nobody in the world whom you need fear for a single moment. If +you have troubles, I am here to share them. If you have enemies, you can +leave me to dispose of them." + +"I think," she murmured, "that I am in an emotional frame of mind +to-day. I am not often like this, you know. I woke this morning feeling +so happy; and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't somehow believe in +it--in myself. I felt it slip away. You won't let it slip away, John?" + +"Never a chance!" he promised confidently. "Look at me. Do I seem like a +person to be easily got rid of? What you need is a holiday, and you need +it badly. We haven't made any plans yet, have we? I wonder whether we +could break your contract at the theater!" + +"We must talk to Graillot," she said. "There is a little Frenchwoman +over here now. I once saw her act in Paris, and I am sure she could play +_Therese_ wonderfully. But don't let's talk seriously any longer. Just +let us sit here and talk nonsense!" + +"Have you told any of your friends yet, Louise--the prince, for +instance?" + +He had asked this question on his way across the room to ring the bell. +There was no reply, and when he turned around, a moment or two later, he +was almost frightened. Louise was sitting quite still, but the color +seemed to have been drained from her cheeks. Her eyes were filled with +some expression which he did not wholly understand. He only knew that +they were calling him to her side, and he promptly obeyed the summons. +Her head fell upon his shoulder, her arms were locked about his neck. + +"John," she sobbed, "I do not know what is the matter with me. I am +hysterical. Don't ask me any questions. Don't talk to me. Hold me like +you are doing now, and listen. I love you, John--do you understand?--I +love you!" + +Her lips sought his and clung to them. A queer little wave of passion +seemed to have seized her. Half crying, half laughing, she pressed her +face against his. "I do not want to act to-night. I do not want to play, +even to the most wonderful audience in the world. I do not want to shake +hands with many hundreds of people at that hateful reception. I think I +want nothing else in the world but you!" + +She lay, for a moment, passive in his arms. He smoothed her hair and +kissed her tenderly. Then he led her back to her place upon the couch. +Her emotional mood, while it flattered him in a sense, did nothing to +quiet the little demons of unrest that pulled, every now and then, at +his heart-strings. + +"What is this reception?" he asked. + +She made a little grimace. + +"It is a formal welcome from the English stage to the French company +that has come over to play at the new French theater," she told him. +"Sir Edward and I are to receive them. You will come, will you not?" + +"I haven't an invitation," he told her. + +"Invitation? I invite you. I am the hostess of the evening." + +"Then I am not likely to refuse, am I?" he asked, smiling. "Shall I come +to the theater?" + +"Come straight to the reception at the Whitehall Rooms," she begged. +"Sir Edward is calling for me, and Graillot will go down with us. Later, +if you care to, you can drive me home." + +"Don't you think," he suggested, "that it would be rather a good +opportunity to announce our engagement?" + +"Not to-night!" she pleaded. "You know, I cannot seem to believe it +myself except when I am with you and we are alone. It seems too +wonderful after all these years. Do you know, John, that I am nearly +thirty?" + +He laughed. + +"How pathetic! All the more reason, I should say, why we should let +people know about it as soon as possible." + +"There is no particular hurry," she said, a little nervously. "Let me +get used to it myself. I don't think you will have to wait long. +Everything I have been used to doing and thinking seems to be crumbling +up around me. Last night I even hated my work, or at least part of it." + +His eyes lit up with genuine pleasure. + +"I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that," he declared. "I +don't hate your work--I've got over that. I don't think I am narrow +about it. I admire Graillot, and his play is wonderful. But I think, and +I always shall think, that the denouement in that third act is +damnable!" + +She nodded understandingly. + +"I am beginning to realize how you must feel," she confessed. "We won't +talk about it any more now. Drive me to the theater, will you? I want to +be there early to-night, just to get everything ready for changing +afterward." + +The telephone-bell rang as they were leaving the room. John put the +receiver to his ear and a moment later held it away. + +"It is Sophy," he announced. "Shall I tell them to send her up?" + +"Sophy, indeed!" Louise exclaimed. "I thought she was in the country, on +tour, and was not expected back until to-morrow." + +"I thought she went away for a week," John said, "but there she is, +waiting down-stairs." + +Louise hesitated for a moment. Then she came over to John with a +tremulous little smile at the corners of her lips. + +"Dear," she said, "I am in a strange frame of mind to-day. I don't want +even to see Sophy. Tell them to send her up here. She can wait for you +while you take me out the other way." + +"May I tell her?" John asked, as he rang for the lift. "She has been +such a good little pal!" + +Once more Louise seemed to hesitate. A vague look of trouble clouded her +face. + +"Perhaps you had better, dear," she agreed spiritlessly. "Only tell her +not to breathe it to another soul. It is to be our secret for a little +time--not long--just a day or two longer." + +The gates of the lift swung open, and John raised her fingers to his +lips. + +"It is for you to say, dear," he promised. + +When he came back to his room, Sophy was curled up on the couch with a +cigarette between her lips. She looked at him severely. + +"I am losing faith in you," she declared. "There are signs of a hurried +departure from this room. There is a distinct perfume of roses about the +place. You have always told me that I am the only visitor of my sex you +allow here. I am fiercely jealous! Tell me what this tea-tray and the +empty cups mean?" + +"It means Louise," he answered, smiling. "She has just this moment gone +away." + +Sophy sighed with an air of mock relief. + +"Louise I suppose I must tolerate," she said. "Fancy her coming here to +tea with you, though!" + +"I have been up to Cumberland for a day," he told her, "and Louise came +to meet me at the station." + +"How is your angel brother?" she asked. "Did he ask after me?" + +"He did mention you," John confessed. "I don't remember any direct +message, though. You want a cocktail, of course, don't you?" + +"Dying for it," she admitted. "I have had such a dull week! We've been +playing in wretched little places, and last night the show went bust. +The manager presented us with our fares home this morning. We were only +down in Surrey, so here I am." + +"Well, I'm glad to see you back again," John told her, after he had +ordered the cocktails. "Louise has been quite lost without you, too." + +"I didn't want to go away," she sighed, "but I do get so tired of not +working! Although my part wasn't worth anything, I hated it being cut +out. It makes one feel so aimless. One has too much time to think." + +He laughed at her, pleasantly but derisively. + +"Time to think!" he repeated. "Why, I have never seen you serious for +five minutes in your life, except when you've been adding up Louise's +housekeeping-books!" + +She threw her cigarette into the grate, swung round toward him, and +looked steadily into his face. + +"Haven't you?" she said. "I can be. I often am. It isn't my correct +pose, though. People don't like me serious. If they take me out or +entertain me, they think they are being cheated if I am not continually +gay. You see what it is to have a reputation for being amusing! Louise +keeps me by her side to talk nonsense to her, to keep her from being +depressed. Men take me out because I am bright, because I save them the +trouble of talking, and they don't feel quite so stupid with me as with +another woman. My young man at Bath wants to marry me for the same +reason. He thinks it would be so pleasant to have me always at hand to +chatter nonsense. That is why you like me, too. You have been pitched +into a strange world. You are not really in touch with it. You like to +be with some one who will talk nonsense and take you a little way out of +it. I am just a little fool, you see, a harmless little creature in cap +and bells whom every one amuses himself with." + +John stared at her for a moment, only half understanding. + +"Why, little girl," he exclaimed, "I believe you're in earnest!" + +"I am in deadly earnest," she assured him, her voice breaking a little. +"Don't take any notice of me. I have had a wretched week, and it's a +rotten world, anyway." + +There was a knock at the door, and the waiter entered with the +cocktails. + +"Come," John said, as he took one from the tray, "I will tell you some +news that will give you something to think about. I hope that you will +be glad--I feel sure that you will. I want you to be the first to drink +our healths--Louise's and mine!" + +The glass slipped through her fingers and fell upon the carpet. She +never uttered even an exclamation. John was upon his knees, picking up +the broken glass. + +"My fault," he insisted. "I am so sorry, Sophy. I am afraid some of the +stuff has gone on your frock. Looks as if you'll have to take me out +shopping. I'll ring for another cocktail." + +He rose to his feet and stepped toward the bell. Then it suddenly +occurred to him that as yet she had not spoken. He turned quickly +around. + +"Sophy," he exclaimed, "what is the matter? Aren't you going to +congratulate me?" + +She was sitting bolt upright upon the couch, her fingers buried in the +cushions, her eyes closed. He moved quickly across toward her. + +"I say, Sophy, what's wrong?" he asked hastily. "Aren't you well?" + +She waved him away. + +"Don't touch me," she begged. "I went without my lunch--nearly missed +the train, as it was. I was feeling a little queer when I came, and +dropping that glass gave me a shock. Let me drink yours, may I?" + +He handed it to her, and she drained its contents. Then she smiled up at +him weakly. + +"What a shame!" she said. "Just as you were telling me your wonderful +news! I can scarcely believe it--you and Louise!" + +John sat down beside her. + +"Louise does not want it talked about for a day or two," he observed. +"We have not made any plans yet." + +"Is Louise going to remain upon the stage?" + +"Probably, if she wishes it," he replied; "but I want to travel first +for a year or so, before we settle definitely upon anything. I did not +think that you would be so much surprised, Sophy." + +"Perhaps I am not really," she admitted. "One thinks of a thing as being +possible, for a long time, and when it actually comes--well, it takes +you off your feet just the same. You know," she added slowly, "there are +no two people in this world so far apart in their ways as you and +Louise." + +"That is true from one point of view," he confessed. "From another, I +think that there are no two people so close together. Of course, it +seems wonderful to me, and I suppose it does to you, Sophy, that she +should care for a man of my type. She is so brilliant and so talented, +such a woman of this latter-day world, the world of which I am about as +ignorant as a man can be. Perhaps, after all, that is the real +explanation of it. Each of us represents things new to the other." + +"Did you say that no one has been told yet--no one at all?" + +"No one except Stephen," John assented. "That is why I went up to +Cumberland, to tell him." + +"You have not told the prince?" Sophy asked, dropping her voice a +little. "Louise has not told him?" + +"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?" John inquired, looking into +Sophy's face. + +"I don't know," she answered. "It just occurred to me. He and Louise +have known each other for such a long time, and I wondered what he might +have to say about it." + +John laid his hands upon the poisonous thoughts that had stolen once +more into his blood, and told himself that he had strangled them. He +swept them away and glanced at his watch. + +"Let's have some dinner before I change, down in the grill-room--in a +quarter of an hour's time, say. I don't want to be at the theater before +the second act." + +Sophy hesitated. There was a hard feeling in her throat, a burning at +the back of her eyes. She was passionately anxious to be alone, yet she +could not bring herself to refuse. She could not deny herself, or tear +herself at once away from the close companionship which seemed, somehow +or other, to have crept up between herself and John, and to have become +the one thing that counted in life. + +"I'd love to," she said, "but remember I've been traveling. Look at me! +I must either go home, or you must let me go into your room--" + +"Make yourself at home," John invited. "I have three letters to write, +and some telephone messages to answer." + +Sophy lit another cigarette and strolled jauntily through his suite of +rooms. When she was quite sure that she was alone, however, she closed +the door behind her, dropped her cigarette, and staggered to the window. +She stood there, gazing down into an alleyway six stories below, where +the people passing back and forth looked like dwarf creatures. + +One little movement forward! No one could have been meant to bear pain +like this. She set her teeth. + +"It would be so soon over!" + +Then she suddenly found that she could see nothing; the people below +were blurred images. A rush of relief had come to her. She sank into the +nearest chair and sobbed. + + + + + XXXIII + + +The reception in honor of the little company of French tragedians, at +which almost the whole of the English stage and a sprinkling of society +people were present, was a complete success. Louise made a charming +hostess, and Sir Edward more than ever justified his reputation for +saying the right thing to the right person at the right moment. The +rooms were crowded with throngs of distinguished people, who all seemed +to have plenty to say to one another. + +The only person, perhaps, who found himself curiously ill at ease was +John. He heard nothing but French on all sides of him--a language which +he read with some facility, but which he spoke like a schoolboy. He had +been wandering about for more than an hour before Louise discovered him. +She at once left her place and crossed the room to where he was standing +by the wall. + +"Cheer up!" she begged, with a delightful smile. "I am afraid that you +are being bored to death. Will you not come and be presented to our +guests?" + +"For goodness' sake, no!" John implored. "I have never seen one of them +act, and my French is appalling. I am all right, dear. It's quite enough +pleasure to see you looking so beautiful, and to think that I am going +to be allowed to drive you home afterward." + +Louise looked into a neighboring mirror, and gazed critically at her own +reflected image. The lines of her figure, fine and subtle, seemed +traced by the finger of some great sculptor underneath her faultlessly +made white-satin gown. She studied her white neck and shoulders and her +perfectly shaped head, seeking everywhere for some detail with which an +impartial critic might find fault. + +She had a curious feeling that at that precise moment she had reached +the zenith of her power and her charm. Her audience at the theater had +been wonderfully sympathetic, had responded with rare appreciation to +every turn of her voice, to every movement and gesture. The compliments, +too, which she had been receiving from the crowds who had bent over her +fingers that night had been no idle words. Many distinguished men had +looked at her with a light in their eyes which women understand so +well--a light questioning yet respectful, which provokes yet begs for +something in the way of response. + +She was conscious, acutely conscious, of the atmosphere she had created +around her. She was glorying in the subtle outward signs of it. She was +in love with herself; in love, too, with this delightful new feeling of +loving. It would have given her more joy than anything else in the +world, in that moment of her triumph, to have passed her arm through +John's, to have led him up to them all, and to have said: + +"After all, you see, I am a very simple sort of woman. I have done just +the sort of simple thing that other women do, and I am glad of it--very +glad and very happy!" + +Her lips moved to the music of her thoughts. John leaned toward her. + +"Did you say anything?" he asked. + +"You dear stupid, of course I did not! Or if I did, it was just one of +those little whispers to oneself which mean nothing, yet which count for +so much. Can I not do anything to make you enjoy yourself more? I shall +have to go back to my guests now. We are expecting a royal personage, +and those two dears who keep so close to my side do not speak a word of +English." + +"Please go back, dear," John begged promptly. "It was nice of you to +come at all. And here's Sophy at last, thank goodness! Now I am all +right." + +She laid her fingers upon his arm. + +"You must take me back to my place," she said. "Then you can go and talk +nonsense to Sophy. I won't even ask you what she said when you told her +the news. I suppose you did tell her?" + +"Of course!" + +She glanced at him swiftly. His reply had sounded a little lame; but +they were back in the crowd now, and she dismissed him with a little +nod. He made his way quickly to the spot where he had seen Sophy. To his +disappointment, she had disappeared. Graillot, however, came up and +seized him by the arm. + +"Still playing the moth, my young friend?" he exclaimed. "Aren't the +wings sufficiently burned yet?" + +"I am afraid it's become a permanent role," John replied, as the two men +shook hands. "Where have you been all these weeks, and why haven't you +been to see me?" + +"Paris, my dear young friend--Paris and life! Now I am back again--I am +not sure that I know why. I came over with these French people, to see +them start their theater. Forgive me, I have not paid my respects to our +hostess. We shall meet again presently." + +He strolled off, and a few minutes later John found Sophy. + +"How late you are!" he grumbled. + +"I couldn't help it," she answered. "This is the only evening dress I +possess at present, and I had to mend it before it was decent to come +out in. Why are you wandering about alone? Hasn't Louise been kind to +you?" + +"She has been charming," John declared promptly, "but she is surrounded +with all sorts of people I don't know. I can't help her. For one thing, +my French is absurd. Then they are all talking about things which I +don't understand in the least." + +Sophy remained silent for a moment. Then she took John's arm and led him +to the buffet. + +"Give me an ice and a cigarette, will you, please? You are a dear, +impractical person, but you are as much out of this world as a human +being well could be!" + +John waited upon her without any further remark. The Prince of Seyre, +passing through, bowed to them. John looked after his retreating figure. +An irresistible impulse seized him. + +"Sophy," he asked, sitting down by her side, "tell me, why have the +prince and Louise always been such great friends?" + +Sophy looked steadfastly at her ice. + +"I suppose because the prince is a very clever and cultivated person," +she said. "He has been of great assistance to Louise several times. It +was he who financed Miles Faraday when he put on this play of +Graillot's. Graillot hasn't a penny, you know, and poor Miles was almost +broke after three failures." + +"That was just an investment," John remarked irritably. "He will get his +money back again." + +"Of course," Sophy agreed. "I think the prince generally manages to get +value for what he does in life." + +"You don't think Louise ever thought of caring for him, do you?" John +persisted. + +Sophy paused until she had lit a cigarette. The expression in her face, +when she looked up at John, irritated him vaguely. It was as if she were +talking to a child. + +"I think," she said, "you had better ask Louise that question yourself, +don't you?" + + * * * * * + +He asked it an hour or so later, when at last the party of guests had +taken their leave, and, somewhat to the well-bred surprise of the one or +two friends who lingered, Louise had beckoned to John to take her out to +her car. Her hand had sought his at once, her head rested a little +wearily but very contentedly upon his shoulder. + +"Louise dear," he began, "I asked Sophy a question to-night which I +ought to have asked you. Quite properly, she told me so." + +"Nice little soul, Sophy!" Louise murmured. "What was it, John?" + +"Once or twice I have wondered," he went on, "whether you have ever +cared in any sort of way, or come near to caring, for the Prince of +Seyre?" + +For a moment she made no movement. Then she turned her head and looked +at him. The sleepy content had gone from her eyes. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Isn't it quite a natural question from a jealous man who believes that +every one who sees you must be in love with you? You have seen a great +deal of the prince, haven't you, in the last few years? He understands +your art. There are many things that you and he have in common." + +Louise was looking out of the window at the thin stream of people still +passing along Piccadilly. She seemed suddenly to have become only the +shadow of her former brilliant self. + +"I think that once--perhaps twice," she confessed, "I came very near to +caring for him." + +"And now?" + +"And now," she repeated, suddenly gripping John's hands, "I tell you +that I am very much nearer hating him. So much for the prince! In ten +minutes we shall be at home, and you are such a dear stupid about coming +in. You must try to say all the nice things in the world to me +quickly--in ten minutes!" + +"How shall I begin?" he whispered. + +She leaned once more toward him. + +"You don't need any hints," she murmured. "You're really quite good at +it!" + + + + + XXXIV + + +The ten minutes passed very much too quickly. She was gone, and John, +thrilled though he was through all his senses by the almost passionate +fervor of her leave-taking, found himself once more confronted by that +little black demon. He sat up in the car, which bore him quickly back +toward his rooms; and although the sense of her presence, the delicate +perfume, the empty place by his side, even a fallen flower from her +gown, were still there, the unrest seemed sharper. + +There was something about all of them, all these people whom he knew to +be his friends, which seemed to him to savor of a conspiracy. One by one +they flitted through his brain--Graillot's covert warning; Sophy's +plaintive, almost fearful doubts; the prince's subtle yet cynical +silence; and behind it all, Stephen's brutal and outspoken words. There +was nothing that could be put into definite shape--just the ghost of +torturing, impossible thoughts. John told himself that it must be ended. +Even though the words should blister his tongue with shame, they must be +spoken. + +A moment later he hated himself for the thought. He set his teeth, +filled his thought with the glory of her presence, and crushed those +demoniacal suggestions to the back of his brain. He was in no humor to +go home, however. Changing the order he had first given to the +chauffeur, he was driven instead to a small Bohemian club which he had +joined at Graillot's instigation. He had a vague hope that he might +find the great dramatist there. There were no signs of him, however, in +the smoking room, or any one else whom John knew. + +He threw himself into an easy chair and ordered a whisky-and-soda. Two +men close at hand were writing at desks; others were lounging about, +discussing the evening's reception. One man, sitting upon the table, a +recognized authority, was treating the company to a fluent dissertation +upon modern actresses, winding up by contrasting Louise Maurel's style +with that of her chief French rival. John found himself listening with +pleased interest. The man's opinion was certainly not unfavorable to +Louise. + +"It is only in the finer shades of emotionalism," the critic declared, +"that these French actresses get at us a little more completely even +than Louise Maurel. Do you know the reason? I'll tell you. It is because +they live the life. They have a dozen new emotions in a season. They +make a cult of feeling. They use their brains to dissect their passions. +They cut their own life into small pieces and give us the result without +concealment. That is where they score, if anywhere. This Mme. Latrobe, +who opens over here to-morrow night, is living at the present moment +with Jean Tourbet. She had an affair with that Italian poet in the +summer, so they tell me. She was certainly in Madrid in October with +Bretoldi, the sculptor. These men are all great artists. Think what she +must have learned from associating with them! Now Louise Maurel, so far +as we know, has never had but one lover, the Prince of Seyre, and has +been faithful to him all the time." + +It was out at last! John had heard it spoken in plain words. The black +demon upon which his hand had lain so heavily, was alive now, without a +doubt, jeering at him, mocking at him--alive and self-assertive in the +sober words of the elderly, well-bred man who lounged upon the table. + +For a moment or two John was stunned. A wild impulse assailed him to +leap up and confront them all, to choke the lie back down the throat of +the man who had uttered it. Every nerve in his body was tingling with +the desire for action. The stupor of his senses alone kept him +motionless, and a strange, incomprehensible clarity of thought. He +realized exactly how things were. This man had not spoken idly, or as a +scandalmonger. He had spoken what he had accepted as a fact, what other +people believed. + +John rose to his feet and made his way toward the door. His face showed +little sign of disturbance. He even nodded to some men whom he knew +slightly. As he passed down the stairs, he met Graillot. Then once more +the self-control became in danger. He seized the Frenchman savagely by +the arm. + +"Come this way," he said, leading him toward the card-room. "Come in +here! I want to speak to you." + +He locked the door--a most unheard-of and irregular proceeding. Graillot +felt the coming of the storm. + +"Well!" he exclaimed grimly. "Trouble already, eh? I see it in your +face, young man. Out with it!" + +John--who had won a hard match at rackets a few days before against a +more experienced opponent simply because of his perfect condition--was +breathing hard. There was a dull patch of color in his cheek, drops of +sweat stood upon his forehead. He controlled his voice with difficulty. +Its tone was sharp and unfamiliar. + +"I was sitting in the smoking room there, a few moments ago," he began, +jerking his head toward the door. "There were some men talking--decent +fellows, not dirty scandalmongers. They spoke of Louise Maurel." + +Graillot nodded gravely. He knew very well what was coming. + +"Well?" + +"They spoke, also, of the Prince of Seyre." + +"Well?" + +John felt his throat suddenly dry. The words he would have spoken choked +him. He banged his fist upon the table by the side of which they were +standing. + +"Look here, Graillot," he cried, almost piteously, "you know it is not +true, not likely to be true! Can't you say so?" + +"Stop, my young friend!" the Frenchman interrupted. "I know nothing. It +is a habit of mine to know nothing when people make suggestions of that +sort. I make no inquiries. I accept life and people as I find them." + +"But you don't believe that such a thing could be possible?" + +"Why not?" Graillot asked steadily. + +John could do no more than mumble a repetition of his words. The world +was falling away from him. He was dimly conscious that one of the +engravings upon the wall opposite was badly hung. For the rest, +Graillot's face, stern, yet pitying, seemed to loom like the features of +a giant, eclipsing everything else. + +"I will not discuss this matter with you, my friend. I will only ask you +to remember the views of the world in which we live. Louise Maurel is an +artist, a great artist. If there has been such an affair as you suggest, +between her and any man, if it were something which appealed to her +affections, it is my opinion that she would not hesitate. You seem to +think it an outrageous thing that the prince should have been her lover. +To be perfectly frank, I do not. I should be very much more surprised at +her marriage." + +John made his escape somehow. He remembered opening the door, but he had +no recollection of reaching the street. A few minutes later, however, he +found himself striding down Piccadilly toward Hyde Park Corner. + +The night was warm, and there were still plenty of people about. A woman +touched his arm; her hackneyed greeting filled him with inexpressible +horror. He stared at her, barely conscious of what he was doing, filled +with an indescribable sickness of heart. + +"You look about done up," she said in friendly fashion. "Come round to +my flat and have a drink. You needn't stay if you don't want to." + +He muttered something and passed on. A moment or two later, however, he +retraced his steps. Out of the horror of his thought had come an +irresistible impulse. He slipped some gold into her hand. + +"Please take this and go home," he enjoined. "Go home at once! Get out +of the streets and hide yourself." + +She stared at him and at the money. + +"Why, I've only just come out," she protested. "All the same, I'm dead +tired. I'll go. Walk with me, won't you? You look as if you wanted +looking after." + +"I'm all right," he answered. "You go home." + +She slipped the money carefully into her purse, and hailed a taxi. + +"You shall have your own way," she declared. "Can't I drop you +anywhere?" + +He raised his hat, and, once more swinging around, passed on his way. +Presently he found himself in the street where Louise lived. He looked +at his watch--it was twenty minutes to three o'clock. + +The house was in solemn darkness. He stood and looked up at it. There +was no sign of a light, not even from the top windows. Its silence +seemed to him more than the silence of sleep. He found himself wondering +whether it was really inhabited, whether there were really human souls +in this quiet corner, waiting peacefully for the dawn, heedless of the +torment which was tearing his soul to pieces. Perhaps, behind that drawn +blind, Louise herself was awake. Perhaps she was thinking, looking back +into the past, wondering about the future. He took a step toward the +gate. + +"Are you going in there, sir?" + +He turned quickly around. A policeman had flashed a lantern upon him. +John suddenly became intensely matter-of-fact. + +"No," he replied. "It is too late, I am afraid. I see that they have all +gone to bed. Any chance of a taxi about here?" + +"Most likely you'll find one at the corner," the policeman pointed out. +"There's a rank there, and one or two of them generally stay late. Very +much obliged, sir." + +John had slipped a coin into the man's hand. Then he walked deliberately +away. He found a taxicab and was driven toward the Milan. He let down +both the windows and leaned out. He was conscious of a wild desire to +keep away from his rooms--to spend the night anywhere, anyhow, sooner +than go back to the little apartment where Louise had sat with him only +a few hours ago, and had given herself into his arms. Every pulse in +his body was tingling. He was fiercely awake, eager for motion, action, +excitement of any sort. + +Suddenly he remembered the night-club to which he had been introduced by +Sophy on the first night of his arrival in London. The address, too, was +there quite clearly in his disordered brain. He leaned out of the cab +and repeated it to the driver. + + + + + XXXV + + +The little place was unexpectedly crowded when John entered, after +having handed his hat and coat to a _vestiaire_. A large supper-party +was going on at the further end, and the dancing space was smaller than +usual. The _maitre d'hotel_ was escorting John to a small table in a +distant corner, which had just been vacated, when the latter heard his +name suddenly called by a familiar voice. Sophy, who had been dancing, +abandoned her partner precipitately and came hurrying up to John with +outstretched hands. + +"John!" she exclaimed. "You, of all people in the world! What do you +mean by coming here alone at this time of night? Fancy not telling me! +Is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing," he replied. "I really don't exactly know why I am here. I +simply didn't want to go to bed." + +She looked at him closely. It was clear that she was a little puzzled at +his appearance. + +"If it were not you, John," she declared, "I should say that you had +been having more to drink than was good for you!" + +"Then you would be very wrong," John assured her, "because I haven't had +anything at all. I have come here to get something. Can't you come and +sit with me?" + +"Of course!" she assented eagerly. "The prince is giving a supper-party +at the other end of the room there. We all came on together from the +reception. Let us get away to your corner quickly, or they will see you +and make you go and join them. I would much rather have you to myself. +The people here seem so stupid to-night!" + +John stood still, and made no movement toward the table which the +_maitre d'hotel_ was smilingly preparing for them. + +"Where is the prince?" he asked. + +Sophy, struck by something in his voice, swung around and looked at him. +Then she thrust both her arms through his, clasped her two hands +together, and led him firmly away. A glimmering of the truth was +beginning to dawn upon her. + +"Tell me where you have been since you left the reception," she +insisted, when at last they were seated together. + +"Wait till I have ordered some wine," he said. + +A waiter served them with champagne. When John's glass was filled, he +drained its contents. Sophy watched him with surprise. She came a little +closer to him. + +"John," she whispered, "you must tell me--do you hear? You must tell me +everything! Did you take Louise home?" + +"Yes." + +"What happened, then? You didn't quarrel with her?" + +"Nothing at all happened," he assured her. "We parted the best of +friends. It wasn't that." + +"Then what? Remember that I am your friend, John dear. Tell me +everything." + +He poured himself more wine and drank it. + +"I will tell you," he assented. "I went to a little club I belong to on +the Adelphi Terrace. I sat down in the smoking room. There was no one +there I knew. Some men were talking. They had been to the reception +to-night. They were comparing French actresses and English. They spoke +first of the French woman, Latrobe, and her lovers; then of Louise. They +spoke quite calmly, like men discussing history. They compared the two +actresses, they compared their lives. Latrobe, they said, had lovers by +the score--Louise only one." + +Sophy's hand stole into his. She was watching the twisting of his +features. She understood so well the excitement underneath. + +"I think I can guess," she whispered. "Don't hurt yourself telling me. +Something was said about the prince!" + +His eyes blazed down upon her. + +"You, too?" he muttered. "Does the whole world know of it and speak as +if it did not matter? Sophy, is it true? Speak out! Don't be afraid of +hurting me. You call yourself my friend. I've been down, looking at the +outside of her house. I dared not go in. There's a fire burning in my +soul! Tell me if it is true!" + +"You must not ask me that question, John," she begged. "How should I +know? Besides, these things are so different in our world, the world you +haven't found out much about yet. Supposing it were true, John," she +went on, "remember that it was before you knew her. Supposing it should +be true, remember this--your idea of life is too absurd. Is one creed +made to fit human beings who may differ in a million different ways? A +woman may be as good as any ever born into the world, and yet take just +a little love into her life, if she be true and faithful in doing it. I +don't believe there is a dearer or sweeter woman breathing than Louise, +but one must have love. Don't I know it? A man may be strong enough to +live without it, but a woman--never!" + +The skirts of the women brushed their table as they danced, the rhythm +of the music rose and fell above the murmur of laughter and +conversation. John looked around the room, and a sort of despair crept +in upon him. It was no good! He had come to London to understand; he +understood nothing. He was made of the wrong fiber. If only he could +change himself! If it were not too late! If he could make himself like +other men! + +He turned and glanced at his companion. Sophy was looking very sweet and +very wistful. The warm touch of her fingers was grateful. Her sympathy +was like some welcome flower in a wilderness. His heart ached with a new +desire. If only he could make himself different! If only he could +stretch out his hand for the flowers which made the lives of other men +so sweet! + +"I must not ask you any more questions, Sophy," he said. "You are her +friend, and you have spoken very sweetly. To-morrow I will go and see +her." + +"And to-night, forget it all," she pleaded. "Wipe it out of your memory. +Louise and your future belong to to-morrow. To-night she is not here, +and I am. Even if you are furiously in love with her, there isn't any +harm in your being just a little nice to me. Give me some champagne; and +I want some caviar sandwiches!" + +"I wonder why you are so good to me, Sophy!" he exclaimed, as he gave +the order to a waiter. "You ought either to marry your young man down at +Bath, or to have a sweetheart of your own, a companion, some one quite +different." + +"How different?" + +"Some one who cared for you as you deserve to be cared for, and whom you +cared for, too." + +"I cannot take these things as lightly as I used to," she answered a +little sadly. "Something has come over me lately--I don't know what it +is--but I seem to have lost my taste for flirtations. John, don't look +up, don't turn round! I have been afraid of the prince all the evening. +When you came in, I fancied that you had been drinking. When the prince +asked me something about you, an hour or so ago, I knew that he had. I +saw him like it once before, about a year ago. Don't take any notice of +him! Don't talk to him, if you can help it!" + +John was scarcely conscious of her words. A new glow of excitement +seemed to be taking entire possession of him, to be thrilling his blood, +to be shining out of his eyes. He rose slowly to his feet. It was as if +he were being drawn forward out of himself to meet some coming +challenge. + +Toward their table the prince was slowly making his way, skilfully +avoiding the dancers, yet looking neither to the right nor to the left. +His eyes were fastened upon John. If he had been drinking, as Sophy +suggested, there were few signs of it. His walk was steady; his bearing, +as usual, deliberate and distinguished. + +He came to a standstill beside them. Sophy's fingers clutched at the +tablecloth. The prince looked from one to the other. + +"You have robbed me of a guest, Mr. Strangewey," he remarked; "but I +bear you no ill-will. It is very seldom that one sees you in these +haunts of dissipation." + +"It is a gala night with me," John replied, his tone raised no more than +usual, but shaking with some new quality. "Drink a glass of wine with +me, prince," he invited, taking the bottle from the ice-pail and filling +a tumbler upon the table. "Wish me luck, won't you? I am engaged to be +married!" + +"I wish you happiness with all my heart," the prince answered, holding +his glass up. "May I not know the name of the lady?" + +"No doubt you are prepared for the news," John told him. "Miss Maurel +has promised to become my wife." + +The prince's hand was as steady as a rock. He raised his glass to his +lips. + +"I drink to you both with the greatest pleasure," he said, looking John +full in the face. "It is a most remarkable coincidence. To-night is the +anniversary of the night when Louise Maurel pledged herself to me in +somewhat different fashion!" + +John's frame seemed for a moment to dilate, and fire flashed from his +eyes. + +"Will you be good enough to explain those words?" he demanded. + +The prince bowed. He glanced toward Sophy. + +"Since you insist," he replied. "To-night, then, let me tell you, is the +anniversary of the night when Louise Maurel consented to become my +mistress!" + +What followed came like a thunder-clap. The prince reeled back, his hand +to his mouth, blood dropping upon the tablecloth from his lips, where +John had struck him. He made a sudden spring at his assailant. Sophy, +shrieking, leaped to her feet. Every one else in the place seemed +paralyzed with wonder. + +John seized the prince by the throat, and held him for a moment at +arm's length. Then he lifted him off his feet as one might lift a child +from the floor. Holding his helpless victim in a merciless grip, he +carried him across the room and deliberately flung him over the table +toward his empty chair. + +There was a crash of glass and crockery which rang through the +momentarily hushed room. The dancers had stopped in their places, the +bow of the violinist lay idle upon the strings of his instrument. The +waiters were all standing about like graven images. Then, as the prince +fell, there was a shout, and all was pandemonium. They rushed to where +he was lying motionless, a ghastly sight, across the wreck of his +flower-strewn supper-table. + +Sophy held John by the arm, clutching it hysterically, striving to drag +him away. But to John the room was empty. He stood there, a giant, +motionless figure, his muscles still taut, his face tense, his eyes +aflame, glaring down at the prostrate figure of the man on whom he had +wreaked the accumulated fury of those last days and weeks of madness. + + + + + XXXVI + + +Toward nine o'clock on the following morning John rose from a fitful +sleep and looked around him. Even before he could recall the events of +the preceding night he felt that there was a weight pressing upon his +brain, a miserable sense of emptiness in life, a dull feeling of +bewilderment. Although he had no clear recollection of getting there, he +realized that he was in his own sitting room, and that he had been +asleep upon the couch. He saw, too, that it was morning, for a ray of +sunlight lay across the carpet. + +As he struggled to his feet, he saw with a little shock that he was not +alone. Sophy Gerard was curled up in his easy chair, still in evening +clothes, her cloak drawn closely around her, as if she were cold. Her +head had fallen back. She, too, was asleep. At the sound of his +movement, however, she opened her eyes and looked at him for a moment +with a puzzled stare. Then she jumped to her feet. + +"Why, we have both been asleep!" she murmured, a little weakly. + +At the sound of her voice it all came back to him, a tangled, hideous +nightmare. He sat down again upon the couch and held his head between +his hands. + +"How did I come here?" he asked. "I can't remember!" + +She hesitated. He answered the unspoken question in her eyes. + +"I remember everything that happened at the club," he went on slowly. +"Is the prince dead?" + +She shook her head. + +"Of course not! He was hurt, though, and there was a terrible scene of +confusion in the room. The people crowded around him, and I managed, +somehow, to drag you away. The manager helped us. To tell the truth, he +was only too anxious for you to get away before the police arrived. He +was so afraid of anything getting into the papers. I drove you back +here, and, as you still seemed stunned, I brought you up-stairs. I +didn't mean to stay, but I couldn't get you to say a single coherent +word. I was afraid to leave you alone!" + +"I suppose I was drunk," he said, in a dull tone. "I remember filling my +glass over and over again. There is one thing, though," he added, his +voice gaining a sudden strength; "I was not drunk when I struck the +prince! I remember those few seconds very distinctly. I saw everything, +knew everything, felt everything. If no one had interfered, I think I +should have killed him!" + +"You were not drunk at all," she declared, with a little shiver, "but +you were in a state of terrible excitement. It was a long time before I +could get you to lie down, and then you wouldn't close your eyes until I +came and sat by your side. I watched you go to sleep. I hope you are not +angry with me! I didn't like to go and leave you." + +"How could I be angry?" he protested. "You are far kinder to me than I +deserve. I expect I should have been in a police cell but for you!" + +"And now," she begged, coming over to him and speaking in a more +matter-of-fact tone, "do let us be practical. I must run away, and you +must go and have a bath and change your clothes. Don't be afraid of +your reputation. I can get out by the other entrance." + +He made no movement. She laid her hand on his arm. In the sunlight, with +a little patch of rouge still left on her cheek, with her disordered +hair and tired eyes, she looked almost ghastly. + +"Remember," she whispered, "you have to go to see Louise!" + +He covered his face with his hands. + +"What's the use of it?" he groaned. "It's only another turn of the +screw!" + +"Don't be foolish, John," she admonished briskly. "You don't actually +know anything yet--nothing at all; at least, you are not sure of +anything. And besides, you strange, impossible person," she went on, +patting his hand, "don't you see that you must judge her, not by the +standards of your world, in which she has never lived, but by the +standards of her world, in which she was born and bred? That is only +fair, isn't it?" + +He made no answer. She watched him anxiously, but there was no sign in +his face. + +"Pull yourself together, John," she continued. "Ring for some tea, get +your bath, and then have it out with Louise. Remember, life is a very +big thing. You are dealing this morning with all it may mean to you." + +He rose listlessly to his feet. There was a strange, dull look in his +face. + +"You are a dear girl, Sophy!" he said. "Don't go just yet. I have never +felt like it before in my life, but just now I don't want to be left +alone. Send a boy for some clothes, and I will order some tea." + +She hesitated. + +"My own reputation," she murmured, "is absolutely of no consequence, but +remember that you live here, and--" + +"Don't be silly!" he interrupted. "What does that matter? And besides, +according to you and all the rest of you here, these things don't affect +a man's reputation--they are expected of him. See, I have rung the bell +for breakfast. Now I am going to telephone down for a messenger-boy to +go for your clothes." + +They breakfasted together, a little later, and she made him smoke. He +stood before the window, looking down upon the river, with his pipe in +his mouth and an unfamiliar look upon his face. + +"Do you suppose that Louise knows anything?" he asked at length. + +"I should think not," she replied. "It is for you to tell her. I rang up +the prince's house while you were in your bathroom. They say that he has +a broken rib and some bad cuts, sustained in a motor accident last +night, but that he is in no danger. There was nothing about the affair +in the newspapers, and the prince's servants have evidently been +instructed to give this account to inquirers." + +A gleam of interest shone in John's face. + +"By the bye," he remarked, "the prince is a Frenchman. He will very +likely expect me to fight with him." + +"No hope of that, my belligerent friend," Sophy declared, with an +attempt at a smile. "The prince knows that he is in England. He would +not be guilty of such an anachronism. Besides, he is a person of +wonderfully well-balanced mind. When he is himself again, he will +realize that what happened to him is exactly what he asked for." + +John took up his hat and gloves. He glanced at the clock--it was a +little past eleven. + +"I am ready," he announced. "Let me drive you home first." + +His motor was waiting at the door, and he left Sophy at her rooms. +Before she got out, she held his arm for a moment. + +"John," she said, "remember that Louise is very high-strung and very +sensitive. Be careful!" + +"There is only one thing to do or to say," he answered. "There is only +one way in which I can do it." + +He drove the car down Piccadilly like a man in a dream, steering as +carefully as usual through the traffic, and glancing every now and then +with unseeing eyes at the streams of people upon the pavements. Finally +he came to a standstill before Louise's house and stopped the engine +with deliberate care. Then he rang the bell, and was shown into her +little drawing-room, which seemed to have become a perfect bower of pink +and white lilac. + +He sat waiting as if in a dream, unable to decide upon his words, unable +even to sift his thoughts. The one purpose with which he had come, the +one question he designed to ask, was burning in his brain. The minutes +of her absence seemed tragically long. He walked up and down, oppressed +by the perfume of the flowers. The room seemed too small for him. He +longed to throw open all the windows, to escape from the atmosphere, in +which for the first time he seemed to find some faint, enervating +poison. + +Then at last the door opened and Louise entered. She came toward him +with a little welcoming smile upon her lips. Her manner was gay, almost +affectionate. + +"Have you come to take me for a ride before lunch?" she asked. "Do you +know, I think that I should really like it! We might lunch at Ranelagh +on our way home." + +The words stuck in his throat. From where she was, she saw now the +writing on his face. She stopped short. + +"What is it?" she exclaimed. + +"Ever since I knew you," he said slowly, "there have been odd moments +when I have lived in torture. During the last fortnight, those moments +have become hours. Last night the end came." + +"Are you mad, John?" she demanded. + +"Perhaps," he replied. "Listen. When I left you last night, I went to +the club in Adelphi Terrace. There was a well-known critic there, +comparing you and Latrobe. On the whole he favored you, but he gave +Latrobe the first place in certain parts. Latrobe, he said, had had more +experience of life. She had had a dozen lovers--you, only one!" + +She winced. The glad freshness seemed suddenly to fade from her face. +Her eyes became strained. + +"Well?" + +"I found Graillot. I cornered him. I asked him for the truth about you. +He put me off with an evasion. I came down here and looked at your +window. It was three o'clock in the morning. I dared not come in. A very +demon of unrest was in my blood. I stopped at a night-club on my way +back. Sophy was there. I asked her plainly to put me out of my agony. +She was like Graillot. She fenced with me. And then--the prince came!" + +"The prince was there?" she faltered. + +"He came up to the table where Sophy and I were sitting. I think I was +half mad. I poured him a glass of wine and asked him to drink with me. I +told him that you had promised to become my wife. He raised his glass--I +can see him now. He told me, with a smile, that it was the anniversary +of the day on which you had promised to become his mistress!" + +Louise shrank back. + +"He told you that?" + +John was on his feet. The fever was blazing once more. + +"He told me that, face to face--told me that it was the anniversary of +the day on which you had consented to become his mistress!" + +"And you?" + +"If we had been alone," John answered simply, "I should have killed him. +I drove the words down his throat. I threw him back to the place he had +left, and hurt him rather badly, I'm afraid. Sophy took me home somehow, +and now I am here." + +She leaned a little forward on the couch. She looked into his face +searchingly, anxiously, as if seeking for something she could not find. +His lips were set in hard, cold lines. The likeness to Stephen had never +been more apparent. + +"Listen!" she said. "You are a Puritan. While I admire the splendid +self-restraint evolved from your creed, it is partly temperamental, +isn't it? I was brought up to see things differently, and I do see them +differently. Tell me, do you love me?" + +The veins swelled for a moment upon his forehead, stood out like +whip-cord along the back of his hands, but of softening there was no +sign in his face. + +"Love you?" he repeated. "You know it! Could I suffer the tortures of +the damned if I didn't? Could I come to you with a man's blood upon my +hands if I didn't? If the prince lives, it is simply the accident of +fate. I tell you that if we had been alone I should have driven the +breath out of his body. Love you!" + +She rose slowly to her feet. She leaned with her elbow upon the +mantelpiece, and her face was hidden for a moment. + +"Let me think!" she said. "I don't know what to say to you. I don't know +you, John. There isn't anything left of the John I loved. Let me look +again!" + +She swung around. + +"You speak of love," she went on suddenly. "Do you know what it is? Do +you know that loves reaches to the heavens, and can also touch the +nethermost depths of hell? If I throw myself on my knees before you now, +if I link my fingers around your neck, if I whisper to you that in the +days that were past before you came I had done things I would fain +forget, if I told you that from henceforth every second of my life was +yours, that my heart beat with yours by day and by night, that I had no +other thought, no other dream, than to stay by your side, to see you +happy, to give all there was of myself into your keeping, to keep it +holy and sacred for you--John, what then?" + +Never a line in his face softened. He looked at her a moment as he had +looked at the woman in Piccadilly, into whose hand he had dropped gold. + +"Are you going to tell me that it is the truth?" he asked hoarsely. + +She stood quite still, her bosom rising and falling. Even then she made +one last effort. She held out her hands with a little trembling gesture, +her eyes filled with tears. + +"Think for a single moment of that feeling which you call love, John!" +she pleaded. "Listen! I love you. It has come to me at last, after all +these years. It lives in my heart, a greater thing than my ambition, a +greater thing than my success, a greater thing than life itself. I love +you, John. Can't you feel, don't you know, that nothing else in life can +matter?" + +Not a line in his face softened. His teeth had come together. He was +like a man upon the rack. + +"It is true? It is true, then?" he demanded. + +She looked at him without any reply. The seconds seemed drawn out to an +interminable period. He heard the rolling of the motor-buses in the +street. Once more the perfume of the lilacs seemed to choke him. Then +she leaned back and touched the bell. + +"The prince spoke the truth," she said. "I think you had better go!" + + + + + XXXVII + + +Before the wide-flung window of her attic bedchamber, Sophy Gerard was +crouching with her face turned westward. She had abandoned all effort to +sleep. The one thought that was beating in her brain was too insistent, +too clamorous. Somewhere beyond that tangled mass of chimneys and +telegraph-poles, somewhere on the other side of the gray haze which hung +about the myriad roofs, John and Louise were working out their destiny, +speaking at last the naked truth to each other. + +Somehow or other, during those few minutes every thought of herself and +her own life seemed to have passed away. John's face seemed always +before her--the sudden, hard lines about his mouth; the dull, smoldering +pain in his eyes. How would he return? Louise had guarded the secret of +her life so well. Would he wrest it from her, or-- + +She started suddenly back into the room. There was a knocking at the +door, something quite different from her landlady's summons. She wrapped +her dressing-gown around her, pulled the curtains around the little bed +on which she had striven to rest, and moved toward the door. She turned +the handle softly. + +"Who is that?" she asked. + +John almost pushed his way past her. She closed the door with nerveless +fingers. Her eyes sought his face, her lips were parted. She clung to +the back of the chair. + +"You have seen Louise?" she exclaimed breathlessly. + +"I have seen Louise," he answered. "It is all over!" + +She looked a little helplessly around her. Then she selected the one +chair in the tiny apartment that was likely to hold him, and led him to +it. + +"Please sit down," she begged, "and tell me about it. You mustn't +despair like this all at once. I wonder if I could help!" + +"No one can help," he told her grimly. "It is all finished and done +with. I would rather not talk any more about it. I didn't come here to +talk about it. I came to see you. So this is where you live!" + +He looked around him, and for a moment he almost forgot the pain which +was gnawing at his heart. It was such a simple, plainly furnished little +room, so clean, so neat, so pathetically eloquent of poverty. She drew +closer together the curtains which concealed her little chintz-covered +bed, and came and sat down by his side. + +"You know, you are rather a silly person," she whispered soothingly. +"Wait for a time and perhaps things will look different. I know that +Louise cares. Isn't that the great thing, after all?" + +"I would like not to talk about it any more," said John. "Just now I +cannot put what I feel into words. What remains is just this: I have +been a fool, a sort of _Don Quixote_, building castles in Spain and +believing that real men and women could live in them. I have expected +the impossible in life. It is perhaps a good thing that I can see the +truth now. I am going to climb down!" + +She clasped her hands tighter around his arm. Her eyes sought his +anxiously. + +"But you mustn't climb down, John," she insisted. "You are so much nicer +where you are, so much too good for the silly, ugly things. You must +fight this in your own way, fight it according to your own standards. +You are too good to come down--" + +"Am I too good for you, Sophy?" + +She looked at him, and her whole face seemed to soften. The light in her +blue eyes was sweet and wistful. A bewildering little smile curled her +lips. + +"Don't be stupid!" she begged. "A few minutes ago I was looking out of +my window and thinking what a poor little morsel of humanity I am, and +what a useless, drifting life I have led. But that's foolish. Come now! +What I want to persuade you to do is to go back to Cumberland for a +time, and try hard--very hard indeed--to realize what it means to be a +woman like Louise, with her temperament, her intense intellectual +curiosity, her charm. Nothing could make Louise different from what she +is--a dear, sweet woman and a great artist. And, John, I believe she +loves you!" + +His face remained undisturbed even by the flicker of an eyelid. + +"Sophy," he said, "I have decided to go abroad. Will you come with me?" + +She sat quite still. Again her face was momentarily transformed. All its +pallor and fatigue seemed to have vanished. Her head had fallen a little +back. She was looking through the ceiling into heaven. Then the light +died away almost as quickly as it had come. Her lips shook tremulously. + +"You know you don't mean it, John! You wouldn't take me. And if you did, +you'd hate me afterward--you'd want to send me back!" + +He suddenly drew her to him, his arm went around her waist. She had lost +all power of resistance. For the first time in his life of his own +deliberate accord, he kissed her--feverishly, almost roughly. + +"Sophy," he declared, "I have been a fool! I have come an awful cropper, +but you might help me with what's left. I am going to start afresh. I am +going to get rid of some of these ideas of mine which have brought me +nothing but misery and disappointment. I don't want to live up to them +any longer. I want to just forget them. I want to live as other men +live--just the simple, ordinary life. Come with me! I'll take you to the +places we've talked about together. I am always happy and contented with +you. Let's try it!" + +Her arms stole around his neck. + +"If only you cared, John!" she sobbed. + +"But I do," he insisted. "I love to have you with me, I love to see you +happy, I shall love to give you pretty things. I shall be proud of you, +soothed by you--and rested. What do you say, Sophy?" + +"John," she whispered, hiding her face for a moment. "What can I say? +What could any poor, weak, little creature like me say? You know I am +fond of you--I haven't had the pride, even, to conceal it!" + +He stood up, held her face for a moment between his hands, and kissed +her forehead. + +"Then that's all settled," he declared. "I am going back to my rooms +now. I want you to come and dine with me there to-night, at eight +o'clock." + +Her eyes sought his, pleaded with them, searched them. + +"You are sure, John?" she asked, her voice a little broken. "You want +me really? I am to come? You won't be sorry--afterward?" + +"I am sure," he answered steadfastly. "I shall expect you at eight +o'clock!" + + * * * * * + +John went back to his rooms fighting all the time against a sense of +unreality, a sense almost of lost identity. He bought an evening +newspaper and read it on the way. He talked to the hall-porter, he +talked to a neighbor with whom he ascended in the lift--he did +everything except think. + +In his rooms he telephoned to the restaurant for a waiter, and with the +menu in his hand, a few minutes later, he ordered dinner. Then he +glanced at his watch--it was barely seven o'clock. He went down to the +barber-shop, was shaved and had his hair cut, encouraging the barber all +the time to talk to him. He gave his hands over to a manicure, and did +his best to talk nonsense to her. Then he came up-stairs again, changed +his clothes with great care, and went into his little sitting room. + +It was five minutes to eight, and dinner had been laid at a little round +table in the center of the room. There was a bowl of pink roses--Sophy's +favorite flower--sent in from the florist's; the table was lighted by a +pink-shaded lamp. John went around the room, turning out the other +lights, until the apartment was hung with shadows save for the little +spot of color in the middle. An unopened bottle of champagne stood in an +ice-pail, and two specially prepared cocktails had been placed upon the +little side-table. There were no more preparations to be made. + +John walked restlessly to the window and gazed at the curving line of +lights along the Embankment. This was the end, then--the end of his +strenuous days, the end of his ideals, the end of a love-story which had +made life for a time seem so wonderful! He could hear them talking about +him in a few days' time--the prince's subtle sneer, the jests of his +acquaintances. And Louise! His heart stopped for a moment as he tried to +think of her face when she heard the news. + +He turned impatiently away from the window and glanced at the clock. It +was almost eight. He tried to imagine that the bell was ringing, that +Sophy was standing there on the threshold in her simple but dainty +evening dress, with a little smile parting her lips. The end of it all! +He pulled down the blind. No more of the window, no more looking out at +the lights, no more living in the clouds! It was time, indeed, that he +lived as other men. He lifted one of the glasses to his lips and drained +its contents. + +Then the bell rang. He moved forward to answer its summons with beating +heart. As he opened it, he received a shock. A messenger-boy stood +outside. He took the note which the boy handed him and tore it open +under the lamp. There were only a few lines: + + John, my heart is breaking, but I know you do not mean what you + said. I know it was only a moment of madness with you. I know + you will love Louise all your life, and will bless me all your + life because I am giving up the one thing which could make my + life a paradise. I shall be in the train when you read this, on + my way to Bath. I have wired my young man, as you call him, to + meet me. I am going to ask him to marry me, if he will, next + week. + + Good-by! I give you no advice. Some day I think that life will + right itself with you. + + SOPHY. + +The letter dropped upon the table. John stood for a moment dazed. +Suddenly he began to laugh. Then he remembered the messenger-boy, gave +him half a crown, and closed the door. He came back into the room and +took his place at the table. He looked at the empty chair by his side, +looked at the full glass on the sideboard. It seemed to him that he was +past all sensations. The waiter came in silently. + +"You can serve the dinner," John ordered, shaking out his napkin. "Open +the champagne before you go." + +"You will be alone, sir?" the man inquired. + +"I shall be alone," John answered. + + + + + XXXVIII + + +It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the green logs that +burned on the open hearth, and for the slow movements of Jennings as he +cleared the table. Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper by +his side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. Opposite to him, +almost as grim, equally silent, sat John. + +"Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, John?" Stephen asked +at last. + +"There was nothing doing," was the brief reply. + +That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, was the sole attempt +at conversation between the two brothers. Then Jennings appeared with a +decanter of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. Stephen +held his up to the light and looked at it critically. John's remained by +his side, unnoticed. + +"A glass for yourself, Jennings," Stephen ordered. + +"I thank ye kindly, sir," the old man replied. + +He fetched a glass from the sideboard, filled it, and held it +respectfully before him. + +"It's the old toast," Stephen said glumly. "You know it!" + +"Aye, Master Stephen!" the servant assented. "We've drunk it together +for many a long year. I give it ye now with all my heart--confusion to +all women!" + +They both glanced toward John, who showed no signs of movement. Then +they drank together, the older man and his servant. Still John never +moved. Jennings drained his glass, placed the decanter by his master's +side, and withdrew. + +"So the poison's still there, brother?" Stephen asked. + +"And will be so long as I live," John confessed gloomily. "For all that, +I'll not drink your toast." + +"Why not?" + +"There was a little girl--you saw her when you were in London. She is +married now, but I think of her sometimes; and when I do, you and old +Jennings seem to me like a couple of blithering idiots cursing things +too wonderful for you to understand!" + +Stephen made no protest. For a time he smoked in silence. Curiously +enough, as they sat there together, some of the grim fierceness seemed +to have passed from his expression and settled upon John. More than +once, as he looked across at his younger brother, it almost seemed as if +there was something of self-reproach in his questioning look. + +"You dined at the ordinary in Market Ketton?" Stephen asked at last. + +"I did." + +"Then you heard the news?" + +"Who could help it?" John muttered. "There wasn't much else talked +about." + +"Bailiff Henderson has been over here," Stephen went on. "There's a +small army of painters and decorators coming down to the castle next +week. You saw the announcement of the wedding in the _Morning Post_, +maybe?" + +John assented without words. Stephen smoked vigorously for a few +moments. Every now and then he glanced across to where John was sitting. +Once again the uneasiness was in his eyes, an uneasiness which was +almost self-reproach. + +"You mind what I called her once, John--a witch-woman? She is that, +right enough. This marriage of hers proves it. Although he is half a +Frenchman, the Prince of Seyre is the greatest landowner in the county. +He is the worst landlord, maybe, but the blood's there. He is a man who +has lived among women all his life. He should know something about them, +and be proof against their wiles. Yet he's going to marry her next +Thursday!" + +John moved a little restlessly in his chair. + +"Let's drop it, Stephen," he begged. "We both know the facts. She is +going to marry him, and that's the end of it. Fill your glass up again. +Here's mine untouched. I'll drink your toast with you, if you'll leave +out the little girl who was kind to me. I'll give it to you +myself--confusion to all women!" + +"Confusion to--" Stephen began. "What on earth is that?" + +They both heard it at the same time--the faint beating of a motor-engine +in the distance. John set down his glass. There was a strange look in +his eyes. + +"There are more cars passing along the road now than in the old days," +he muttered; "but that's a queer sound. It reminds one--good Heavens, +how it reminds one!" + +There was a look of agony in his face for a moment. Then once more he +raised his glass to his lips. + +"It's passed out of hearing," Stephen said. "It's some one on the way to +the castle, maybe." + +Still their glasses remained suspended in mid air. The little garden +gate had opened and closed with a click; there were footsteps upon the +flinty walk. + +"It's some one coming here!" John cried hoarsely. "Why can't they keep +away? It's two years ago this week since I brought her up the drive and +you met us at the front door. Two years ago, Stephen! Who can it be?" + +They heard the front door open, they heard Jenning's voice raised in +unusual and indignant protest. Then their own door was suddenly flung +wide, and a miracle happened. John's glass slipped from his fingers, and +the wine streamed out across the carpet. He shrank back, gripping the +tablecloth. Stephen turned his head, and sat as if turned to stone. + +"John!" + +She was coming toward him exactly as he had dreamed of her so many +times, her hands outstretched, her lips quivering, with that sweet look +in her face which had dwelt there once for a few days--just a few days +of her life. + +"John," she faltered, "it isn't the car this time--it is I who have +broken down! I cannot go on. I have no pride left. I have come to you. +Will you help me?" + +He found himself upon his feet. Stephen, too, had risen. She stood +between the two men, and glanced from one to the other. Then she looked +more closely into John's face, peering forward with a little start of +pain, and her eyes were filled with tears. + +"John," she cried, "forgive me! You were so cruel that morning, and you +seemed to understand so little. Don't you really understand, even now? +Have you ever known the truth, I wonder?" + +"The truth!" he echoed hoarsely. "Don't we all know that? Don't we all +know that he is to give you your rights, that you are coming--" + +"Stop!" she ordered him. + +He obeyed, and for a moment there was silence--a tense, strained +silence. + +"John," she continued at last, "I have no rights to receive from the +Prince of Seyre. He owes me nothing. Listen! Always we have seen life +differently, you and I. To me there is only one great thing, and that is +love; and beyond that nothing counts. I tried to love the prince before +you came, and I thought I did, and I promised him at last what you know, +because I believed that he loved me and that I loved him, and that if so +it was his right. Look down the road, John! On that night I was on my +way to the castle, to give myself to him; but I broke down, and in the +morning the world was all different, and I went back to London. It has +been different ever since, and there has never been any question of +anything between the prince and me, because I knew that it was not +love." + +John was shaking in every limb. His eyes were filled with fierce +questioning. Stephen sat there, and there was wonder in his face, too. + +"When you came to me that morning," she went on, "you spoke to me in a +strange tongue. I couldn't understand you, you seemed so far away. I +wanted to tell you the whole truth, but I didn't. Perhaps I wasn't +sure--perhaps it seemed to me that it was best for me to forget, if ever +I had cared, for the ways of our lives seemed so far apart. You went +away, and I drifted on; but it wasn't true that I ever promised to marry +the prince. No one had any right to put that paragraph in the +newspaper!" + +"But what are you doing here, then?" John asked hoarsely. "Aren't you on +your way to the castle?" + +She came a little nearer still; her arms went around his neck. + +"You dear stupid!" she cried. "Haven't I told you? I've tried to do +without you, and I can't. I've come for you. Come outside, please! It's +quite light. The moon's coming over the hills. I want to walk up the +orchard. I want to hear just what I've come to hear!" + +He passed out of the room in a dream, under the blossom-laden boughs of +the orchard, and up the hillside toward the church. The dream passed, +but Louise remained, flesh and blood. Her lips were warm and her arms +held him almost feverishly. + +"In that little church, John, and quickly--so quickly, please!" she +whispered. + + * * * * * + +Jennings hastened in to where Stephen was sitting alone. + +"Mr. Stephen," he cried, "what's coming to us? There's that French hussy +outside, and a motor-car in the drive, and the chauffeur's asking where +he's to sleep. The woman wants to know whether she can have the same +bedroom for her mistress as last time!" + +"Then why don't you go and see about it, you old fool?" Stephen replied. +"Pick up those pieces of glass there, lay the cloth, and get some supper +ready." + +Jennings gazed at his master, dumbfounded. No power of speech remained +to him. + +Through the open doorway they heard Aline's voice in the hall. + +"Meester Jennings, will you please come and help me with the luggage?" + +"Get along with you!" Stephen ordered. "You'd better hurry up with the +supper, too. The boy Tom can see to the luggage." + +The old man recovered himself slowly. + +"You're taking 'em in, sir--taking 'em into the house?" he gasped. "What +about that toast?" + +Stephen refilled two glasses. + +"We'd better alter it a little," he declared. "Here's confusion to most +women, but luck to John and his wife!" + +"Mr. John and his wife!" Jennings repeated, as he set his glass down +empty. "I'll just see that them sheets is aired up-stairs, sir, or that +hussy will be making eyes at Tom!" + +He departed, and Stephen was left alone. He sat and listened to the +sound of luggage being taken upstairs, to Aline's little torrent of +directions, good-humored but profuse, to the sound of preparations in +the kitchen. In the room the tall clock ticked solemnly; a fragment of +the log every now and then fell upon the hearth. + +Presently he rose to his feet. He heard the click of the garden gate, +the sound of John and Louise returning. He rose and stood ready to +welcome them. + + + + + THE END + + + + + Popular Copyright Novels + + _AT MODERATE PRICES_ + + Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of + A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction + + + =Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The.= By Frank L. Packard. + =Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.= By A. Conan Doyle. + =Affinities, and Other Stories.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + =After House, The.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + =Against the Winds.= By Kate Jordan. + =Ailsa Paige.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Also Ran.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + =Amateur Gentleman, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Anderson Crow, Detective.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + =Anna, the Adventuress.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Anne's House of Dreams.= By L. M. Montgomery. + =Anybody But Anne.= By Carolyn Wells. + =Are All Men Alike, and The Lost Titian.= By Arthur Stringer. + =Around Old Chester.= By Margaret Deland. + =Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist.= By John T. 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By Augusta J. Evans. + =Beyond the Frontier.= By Randall Parrish. + =Big Timber.= By Bertrand W. Sinclair. + =Black Bartlemy's Treasure.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Black Is White.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + =Blacksheep! Blacksheep!.= By Meredith Nicholson. + =Blind Man's Eyes, The.= By Wm. Mac Harg and Edwin Balmer. + =Boardwalk, The.= By Margaret Widdemer. + =Bob Hampton of Placer.= By Randall Parrish. + =Bob, Son of Battle.= By Alfred Olivant. + =Box With Broken Seals, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Boy With Wings, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Brandon of the Engineers.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Bridge of Kisses, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Broad Highway, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + =Broadway Bab.= By Johnston McCulley. + =Brown Study, The.= By Grace S. Richmond. + =Bruce of the Circle A.= By Harold Titus. + =Buccaneer Farmer, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Buck Peters, Ranchman.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + =Builders, The.= By Ellen Glasgow. + =Business of Life, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + + =Cab of the Sleeping Horse, The.= By John Reed Scott. + =Cabbage and Kings.= By O. Henry. + =Cabin Fever.= By B. M. Bower. + =Calling of Dan Matthews, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. + =Cape Cod Stories.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper.= By James A. Cooper. + =Cap'n Dan's Daughter.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Cap'n Erl.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Cap'n Jonah's Fortune.= By James A. Cooper. + =Cap'n Warren's Wards.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Chinese Label, The.= By J. Frank Davis. + =Christine of the Young Heart.= By Louise Breintenbach Clancy. + =Cinderella Jane.= By Marjorie B. Cooke. + =Cinema Murder, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =City of Masks, The.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + =Cleek of Scotland Yard.= By T. W. Hanshew. + =Cleek, The Man of Forty Faces.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. + =Cleek's Government Cases.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. + =Clipped Wings.= By Rupert Hughes. + =Clutch of Circumstance, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + =Coast of Adventure, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Come-Back, The.= By Carolyn Wells. + =Coming of Cassidy, The.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + =Coming of the Law, The.= By Charles A. Seltzer. + =Comrades of Peril.= By Randall Parrish. + =Conquest of Canaan, The.= By Booth Tarkington. + =Conspirators, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Contraband.= By Randall Parrish. + =Cottage of Delight, The.= By Will N. Harben. + =Court of Inquiry, A.= By Grace S. Richmond. + =Cricket, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + =Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure.= By Rex Beach. + =Crimson Tide, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Cross Currents.= By Author of "Pollyanna." + =Cross Pull, The.= By Hal. G. Evarts. + =Cry in the Wilderness, A.= By Mary E. Waller. + =Cry of Youth, A.= By Cynthia Lombardi. + =Cup of Fury, The.= By Rupert Hughes. + =Curious Quest, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + + =Danger and Other Stories.= By A. Conan Doyle. + =Dark Hollow, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. + =Dark Star, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Daughter Pays, The.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + =Day of Days, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + =Depot Master, The.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Destroying Angel, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + =Devil's Own, The.= By Randall Parrish. + =Devil's Paw, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Disturbing Charm, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Door of Dread, The.= By Arthur Stringer. + =Dope.= By Sax Rohmer. + =Double Traitor, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + =Duds.= By Henry C. Rowland. + =Empty Pockets.= By Rupert Hughes. + =Erskine Dale Pioneer.= By John Fox, Jr. + =Everyman's Land.= By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. + =Extricating Obadiah.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + =Eyes of the Blind, The.= By Arthur Somers Roche. + =Eyes of the World, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. + + =Fairfax and His Pride.= By Marie Van Vorst. + =Felix O'Day.= By F. Hopkinson Smith. + =54-40 or Fight.= By Emerson Hough. + =Fighting Chance, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Fighting Fool, The.= By Dane Coolidge. + =Fighting Shepherdess, The.= By Caroline Lockhart. + =Financier, The.= By Theodore Dreiser. + =Find the Woman.= By Arthur Somers Roche. + =First Sir Percy, The.= By The Baroness Orczy. + =Flame, The.= By Olive Wadsley. + =For Better, for Worse.= By W. B. Maxwell. + =Forbidden Trail, The.= By Honore Willsie. + =Forfeit, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + =Fortieth Door, The.= By Mary Hastings Bradley. + =Four Million, The.= By O. Henry. + =From Now On.= By Frank L. Packard. + =Fur Bringers, The.= By Hulbert Footner. + =Further Adventures of Jimmie Dale.= By Frank L. Packard. + + =Get Your Man.= By Ethel and James Dorrance. + =Girl in the Mirror, The.= By Elizabeth Jordan. + =Girl of O. K. Valley, The.= By Robert Watson. + =Girl of the Blue Ridge, A.= By Payne Erskine. + =Girl from Keller's, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + =Girl Philippa, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + =Girls at His Billet, The.= By Berta Ruck. + =Glory Rides the Range.= By Ethel and James Dorrance. + =Gloved Hand, The.= By Burton E. Stevenson. + =God's Country and the Woman.= By James Oliver Curwood. + =God's Good Man.= By Marie Corelli. + =Going Some.= By Rex Beach. + =Gold Girl, The.= By James B. Hendryx. + =Golden Scorpion, The.= By Sax Rohmer. + + + + + TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: + +Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). + +Text in bold is enclosed by equal signs (=bold=). + +Text in small caps have been replaced with ALL CAPS. + +Errors in spelling and punctuations were not corrected unless otherwise +noted below: + +On page 5, "unforgetable" was replaced with "unforgettable". + +On page 51, the comma after "more time here" was replaced with a period. + +On page 81, "confesed" was replaced with "confessed". + +On page 97, "he said." was replaced with "she said.". + +On page 132, "Gaillot" was replaced with "Graillot". + +On page 241, "carefullly" was replaced with "carefully". + +On page 269, "tast" was replaced with "taste". + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hillman, by E. 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