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diff --git a/37412.txt b/37412.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a1d2ca9 --- /dev/null +++ b/37412.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12837 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Empty Sack, by Basil King + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: The Empty Sack + +Author: Basil King + +Release Date: Sept 12, 2011 [EBook #37412] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPTY SACK *** + +Produced by: Darleen Dove, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + THE EMPTY SACK + + + THE EMPTY SACK + BY BASIL KING + + AUTHOR OF THE INNER SHRINE, THE WILD OLIVE, _Etc._ + + ILLUSTRATED + + NEW YORK + GROSSET & DUNLAP + PUBLISHERS + + Made in the United States of America + + _The Empty Sack_ + + Copyright, 1921, by Harper & Brothers + Printed in the United States of America + + ---- + +[Illustration: _DEAR OLD MA! STOP _CRYING_, MA!_] + + ---- + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I + CHAPTER II + CHAPTER III + CHAPTER IV + CHAPTER V + CHAPTER VI + CHAPTER VII + CHAPTER VIII + CHAPTER IX + CHAPTER X + CHAPTER XI + CHAPTER XII + CHAPTER XIII + CHAPTER XIV + CHAPTER XV + CHAPTER XVI + CHAPTER XVII + CHAPTER XVIII + CHAPTER XIX + CHAPTER XX + CHAPTER XXI + CHAPTER XXII + CHAPTER XXIII + CHAPTER XXIV + CHAPTER XXV + CHAPTER XXVI + CHAPTER XXVII + CHAPTER XXVIII + CHAPTER XXIX + + ---- + + THE EMPTY SACK + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Mr. Collingham will see you in his office before you go." + +Having thus become the Voice of Fate, Miss Ruddick, shirt-waisted and +daintily shod, slipped away between the pens where clerks were preening +themselves before leaving their desks for the day. + +The old man to whom she had spoken raised his head in the mild surprise +of an ox disturbed while grazing. He, too, was leaving his desk for the +day, arranging his work with the tidy care of one for whom pens, ink, +and ledgers were the vital things of life. Finishing his task, his hands +trembled. His smile trembled, too, when a young man in a neighboring pen +called out in tones which mingled sarcasm with encouragement: + +"Good luck, old top! Goin' to get your raise at last!" + +It was what he repeated to himself as he shuffled after Miss Ruddick. He +was obliged to repeat it in order to steady his step. He was obliged to +steady his step because some fifteen or twenty pairs of eyes from all +the pens in the office were following him as he went along. It was the +last bit of pride in the man marching up to face a firing squad. + +He had reached the glass door on which the word "Exit" could be traced +in reversed letters, when a breezy young fellow of twenty startled him +by a sudden clap on the shoulder. The boy had not come from a pen, but +from the more distant portion of the bank where a line of tellers' cages +faced the public. + +"Hello, dad! Tell ma I'll be home for supper. Off now for a plunge at +the gym." + +The boy passed on, leaving behind a vision of gleaming teeth and the +echo of gay tones. + +Opening a glass door and entering a passageway, the old man stumbled +along it till another door, standing open, showed Miss Ruddick, beside +her typewriter, assorting her papers before going home. Miss Ruddick was +a competent woman of thirty-five. She was in her present position of +stenographer-secretary to the head of the banking house because Mr. +Bickley, the efficiency expert, for whose opinion Mr. Collingham had a +kind of reverence, had selected her for the job. Miss Ruddick cultivated +her efficiency as another woman cultivates her voice or another her gift +for dancing. Throwing off the weaknesses that spring from affection and +softness of heart, she had steeled and oiled herself into a swiftly +working, surely judging, and wholly impersonal business automaton. Ten +years ago she would have felt sorry for a man in Josiah Follett's +predicament. She would have felt sorry for him now had she not learned +to her cost that sympathy diminished the accuracy of her work. Now she +could turn him off as easily as an executioner the man condemned to +death. + +As a matter of fact, she knew that ten minutes previously the efficiency +expert had been closeted with Mr. Collingham, dealing with this very +case. With her own ears she had heard Mr. Bickley say: + +"You will do as you think best, Mr. Collingham. Only, I can't help +reminding you that once you admit any principle but that of supply and +demand, business methods are at an end." + +Miss Ruddick knew Mr. Collingham's inner struggle because she had been +through it herself; but she knew, too, that to Mr. Collingham the +efficiency expert was much what his physician is to a king. His advice +may be distasteful, but it is a command. The most merciful thing now was +rapidity of action, as with the application of the guillotine. It was +mercy, therefore, to throw open instantly the door of Mr. Collingham's +office, so that Josiah was forced to enter. + +He stood meekly, feeling, doubtless, as the psalmist felt when all the +ends of the world had come upon him. Confusedly he was saying to himself +that all the threads of his laborious life, from the time when, as a boy +in Canada, he had begun to earn his living at sixteen, till now, when he +was sixty-three, had been drawn together at just this point, where he +was either to get his raise or else---- + +The suspense was terrible. As the August Presence into which he had been +ushered was engaged in examining the contents of a lower drawer of the +flat-topped desk at which It was seated, It was only partly visible. All +Josiah could see was the shoulder of a portly form, the edge of a +pear-shaped pearl in a plum-colored tie, and a temple of grizzled hair. +The clerk moved forward, coming to a halt midway between the door and +the desk till the Presence should recognize his approach by raising Its +head. + +The Presence didn't quite raise Its head. It merely glanced upward in a +casual, sidelong way, continuing the inspection of the drawer. + +"Well, Follett, I suppose you know what I've got to say?" + +Follett betrayed the fact that he did know. + +"Is it the same as you said two years ago, sir?" + +Thus challenged, the Presence lifted itself, becoming to the full +Bradley Collingham, the distinguished banker, philanthropist, and +American citizen, so widely and favorably known for his sympathetic +personality. The essence of these traits rang in the appealing quality +of his tone. + +"What do you think, Follett? I told you then that you were not earning +your salary. You haven't been earning it since. What can I do?" + +"I could work harder, sir. I could stay overtime, when none of the young +fellows want to." + +"That wouldn't do any good, Follett. It isn't the way we do business." + +"I've been five years with you, sir, and all my life between one banking +house and another, in this country and Canada. In my humble way I've +helped to build the banking business up." + +"And you've been paid, haven't you? I really don't see that you've +anything to complain of." + +There was no severity in this response. It was made only because the +necessities of the case required it, as Follett had the justice to +perceive. + +"I'm not complaining, sir. I only don't see how I'm going to live." + +The voice already distressed became more so. + +"But that isn't my affair, is it, now? I'm running a business, not a +charitable institution. It isn't as if you'd been with us twenty or +thirty years. You've shifted about a good deal in your time----" + +"I've had to better myself, sir--with a family." + +"Quite so. And once you admit any principle but that of supply and +demand business methods are at an end. Don't think that this isn't as +hard for me as it is for you, Follett, but----" + +"If it was as hard for you as it is for me, sir, you'd----" + +But, the possibilities here being dangerous, the banker was forced to +cut in: + +"Besides, you'll get another job. Stairs will write you any kind of +recommendation you ask for." + +"Recommendations won't do me any good, sir, once I'm fired for old age. +That's a worse brand on you than coming out of jail." + +The discussion growing painful, the banker rose to put an end to it. +Even so, he had something still to say to justify himself. + +"It isn't as if I hadn't warned you of this, Follett. You've had two +years in which"--it was hard to find the right phrase--"in which to +provide for your future." + +The clerk was unable to repress a dim, faraway smile. + +"Two years in which to provide for my future--on forty-five a week! And +me with five mouths to feed, to say nothing of Teddy, who pays his +board!" + +The banker found an opening. + +"I made a place for him--didn't I, now?--as soon as he was released from +the navy. He ought to be able to help you." + +"He does help, sir, as far as a young fellow can on eighteen a week with +his own expenses to take care of. But I've two little girls still at +school, and another, my eldest--" + +A hint of embarrassment emphasized the banker's words as he began moving +forward to show his visitor to the door. + +"I understand that she's engaged as an artist's model. That, too, ought +to bring you in something." + +"I suppose Mr. Robert told you that, sir." + +This was inadvertent on Follett's part, and a mistake. Any other +distinguished man would have stiffened at the use of the name of a +member of his family in a connection like the present one. Bradley +Collingham was admirably temperate in saying: + +"I don't talk of such matters with my son. I merely understood that your +eldest girl was earning something--" + +"She poses six hours a week for Mr. Hubert Wray, at a dollar an hour." + +"She could probably get more engagements. I hear--I forget who told +me--that she's the type these artist people like to put into their +pictures." + +Finding himself obliged to keep step with his employer, Follett felt as +if he was walking to his soul's dead-march. Only the force of the +conventions in which everybody lives enabled him to go on making +conversation. + +"We don't much like the occupation for a daughter of ours, sir; and, +besides, there's lots who think that being an artist's model isn't +respectable." + +"Still, if she can earn good money at it--" + +To Collingham's relief, they were at the door, which he opened +significantly and without more words. Follett looked into the outer +world as represented by Miss Ruddick's office as into an abyss. For the +minute it seemed too awful a void to step into. When his watery blue +eyes again sought Collingham's face, it was with the dumb question, +"Must I?" which the banker himself could only meet with Mr. Bickley's +manfulness. + +He, too, spoke only with his eyes: "You must, my poor Follett. There's +no help for it. You and I are both caught up into a vast machine. I +can't act otherwise than as I'm doing, and I know you don't expect it." + +Thus Follett stepped over the threshold and the door closed behind him. +So short a time had passed since he had gone the other way that Miss +Ruddick was still beside her desk, putting away her papers. Follett +didn't look at her, but she looked at him, finding herself compelled to +hark back to Mr. Bickley's axioms to check the tears she couldn't allow +to rise. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Meanwhile there was that going on which would have disturbed both these +elderly men had they known anything about it. + +Jennie Follett, in a Greek peplum of white-cotton cloth, her +amber-colored hair drawn into a loose Greek knot, was on her knees +before a plaster cast of Aphrodite, to which she was holding up a +garland of tissue-paper flowers. + +While there was nothing alarming in this pagan act, the freedom with +which two young men laid hands on her little person threw out hints of +impropriety. + +The pretexts were obvious, and, in the case of one of the young men, +were backed by what might have been called professional necessity. One +bare arm needed to be raised, the other to be lowered. One sandaled foot +was too visible beneath the edge of the peplum, the other not visible +enough. Adjustments called for readjustments, and readjustments for +revisions of the scheme. What one young man approved of the other +disallowed, to a running accompaniment of Miss Follett's laughter. + +"Do go away," she implored, when Mr. Bob Collingham, with one hand +beneath her elbow and the other at her finger-tips, tilted her arm at +what seemed to him its loveliest angle. + +"Clear out, Bob," the artist seconded, in half-vexed good humor. "We'll +never get the pose with you here." + +"You'd never get anything if I went away, because Miss Follett wouldn't +work. Would you, Miss Follett?" + +The artist having gone in search of something at the far end of the +studio, Miss Follett replied to Mr. Collingham alone. + +"I don't know what I'd do if you went away; but if you stay I shall go +frantic. If you touch me again I shall get up." + +"I'm not touching you again," he said, going on to bend her left arm +ever so slightly, "because this is the same old time all along. The +picture is all I care about." + +"But it's Mr. Wray's picture. It isn't yours." + +"It will be if I buy it. I said I would if I liked it, and I sha'n't +like it unless I get it the way I want it." + +"You know you don't mean to buy it." + +"I don't mean to let anybody else buy it; you can lay down your life on +that." + +There was so much earnestness in this declaration that Miss Follett +laughed again. It was an easy, silvery laugh, pleasant to the ear, and +not out of keeping with the medley of beautiful things round her. + +"Jennie's value in a studio is more than that of a model," Wray had +recently confided to his friend, Bob Collingham. "It's as if she +extracted the beauty from every bit of tapestry or bronze and turned it +into animate life." + +"By doing nothing or standing still," Collingham had added, "she can pin +your eyes on her as other girls can't by frisking about. And when she +moves--" + +An exclamation from Wray conveyed the fact that Jennie's motion was +beyond what either of these young experts in womanhood could possibly +put into words. + +But that Jennie knew where to draw a certain kind of line became evident +when, either by inadvertence or design, the back of Bob Collingham's +hand rubbed along her cheek. With a smile at once kindly and cold she +put away his arm and rose. In the few yards she placed between them +before she turned again, still with her kind, cold smile, there was +rebuke without offense. + +Being fair, the young man colored easily. When he colored, the three +inches of scar across his temple which he had brought home from the war +became a streak of red. It was one of the reasons why Jennie, who was +sensitive to the physical, didn't like to look at him. Not to look at +him, she pretended to arrange the folds of her peplum, which kept her +gaze downward. + +But had she looked, she would have seen that he was hurt. His face was +of the honest, sympathetic cast that quickly reflects the wounding of +the feelings. If men had prototypes in dogs, Bob Collingham's would have +been the mastiff or the St. Bernard--big, strong, devoted, slow to +wrath, and with an almost comic humiliation at sound of a harsh word. +Though there was no harsh word in Jennie's case, Bob was sure he +detected a harsh thought. It hurt him the more for the reason that she +was a model, while he had advantages of social consideration. Little as +he would have been discourteous to a girl of his own station, he would +have thought it unworthy of a cad to profit by Jennie's helplessness in +a place like a studio. + +"I hope you didn't think I was trying to be fresh." + +Now that she felt herself secured by distance, she laughed again. + +"I didn't think anything at all. I just--just don't like people touching +me." + +"Not any people?" + +"Not any I need speak about to you." + +"Why me?" + +"Because I hardly know you." + +"You could know me better if you wanted to." + +"Oh, I could know lots of people better if I wanted to." + +"And you don't want to--for what reason?" + +"It isn't always a reason. Sometimes it's just an instinct." + +"And which is it in my case?" + +"In your case, it doesn't have to be discussed. I shouldn't know you, +anyhow. We're like creatures in different--what do they call it?--not +spheres--elements, isn't it?--We're like creatures in different +elements--a bird and a fish--that don't get a point of contact." + +"You mayn't _see_ the points of contact--" + +"And if I don't see them they're not there." She turned toward Wray, who +was coming back in their direction, addressing him in the idiom she +heard among young native-born Americans, and which accorded best with +her position in the studio. "Oh, Mr. Wray, could you let me off posing +any more to-day? This friend guy of yours has got me all on springs." + +"Clear out, friend guy. Can't you see you're in the way?" + +She continued to take the tone she was trying to make second nature, +since it was not first. + +"That's something he wouldn't notice if a car was running over him. But +please let me go. There's a quarter of an hour left on to-day, but I'll +make it up some other time." + +She moved down the studio with as much seeming unconcern as if she +didn't know that two pairs of eyes were following her. Picking her way +between old English chairs with canvases stacked against their legs, +past dusty brocade hangings, and beneath an occasional plaster cast +lifted on a pedestal, she went out at the model's exit without a glance +behind her. + +Bob spoke only when she had disappeared. + +"Listen, Hubert. I'm going to marry that girl." + +Wray stepped back to the front of the easel, flicking in a touch or two +on the rough sketch of the Greek girl kneeling before Aphrodite. + +"I was afraid you were getting some such bug in your head." + +Bob limped to a table on which he had thrown his hat and the stick that +helped his lameness. + +People at Marillo Park, where the Collinghams lived for most of the +year, said that, with the wounds he had got while in the French army in +the early days of the war, he had brought back with him a real +enhancement of manhood. Having come through Groton and Harvard little +better than an uncouth boy, his experience in France had shaped his +outlook on life into something like a purpose. It was not very clear as +yet, or sharply defined; but he knew that certain preliminary conditions +must be met before he could settle down. One of these had to do with +Miss Jennie Follett; and what Hubert called "a bug in his head" was, in +his own mind, at least, as vital to his development as his braving his +family in going to the war. + +That had been in the famous year when the American nation was trying to +be "neutral in thought." "I'm not neutral in thought," Bob, who had only +that summer left Harvard, had declared to his father. "I'm not neutral +in any way. Give me my ticket over, dad, and I'll do the rest myself." + +He got his ticket over, and fifteen months later, bandaged and crippled, +a ticket back. On the return voyage he had as his companion a young +American stretcher-man who had helped to carry him off the battlefield, +and who, a few weeks later, nervously shattered, had joined him in the +hospital. Wray, who, on the outbreak of war, had been painting in +Latoul's atelier, had now got what he called "a sickener of Europe," and +was glad to hang out his shingle in New York. A New England man of +Gallicized ways of thinking, he had means enough to wait for +recognition, so long as he kept his expenses within relatively narrow +bounds. + +With his soft hat plastered provisionally on the back of his head, Bob +leaned heavily on his stick. + +"I've got to marry some one," he said, as if in self-defense. "I'm that +kind. I can't begin fitting my jig saw together till I do it." + +Wray kept on painting. + +"Why don't you pick out a girl in your own class? Lots of nice ones at +Marillo." + +"You don't marry girls just because they're nice, old thing. You take +the one who's the other half of yourself." + +"I don't see that you're the other half of Miss Follett." + +"Well, I am." + +"Miss Follett herself doesn't think so." + +"She'll think so, all right, when I show her that she can't do without +me." + +"Some job!" Wray grunted, laconically. + +"Sure it's some job; but the bigger the job the more you're on your +mettle. That's the way we're made." + +The artist continued to add small touches to the shadows of the +Aphrodite cast as he changed his tactics. + +"If you married Miss Follett, wouldn't your family raise hell?" + +"They'd raise hell at first, and put a can on it afterward. Families +always do." + +"And what would Miss Follett feel--before they'd put on the can?" + +Bob limped uneasily toward the door. + +"Life wouldn't be all slip-and-go-down for her, of course; but that's +what I should have to make up to her." + +"Oh, you'd make it up to her." + +With his hand on the knob, Collingham turned in mild indignation. + +"Say, Hubert, what do you think I'm made of? A girl I'm crazy about--" + +"Oh, I only wondered how you were going to do it." + +"Well, wonder away." A steely glint came into the deep-set, small gray +eyes as he added, "That's something I don't have to explain to you +beforehand, now do I?" + +Left alone, the painter went on painting. As it always does, the house +of Art opened its door to the troubles of the artist. Wray neither +turned his head as his friend went out nor muttered a farewell. He +merely laid on his strokes with an emotional vigor which hardened the +surface of the plaster cast into marble. Neither did he turn his head +nor utter a greeting when he became aware that Jennie, in her sport suit +of tobacco color set off with collar and cuffs of ruby red, was moving +toward him among the studio properties. It was easier to work his desire +to look at her into this swift, sure wielding of the brush. + +In the spirit rather than with the eyes he knew that she had paused +within ten or twelve feet of him, that her kind, soft, bantering glance +was resting on him as he worked, and that a kind, soft, bantering smile +was flickering about her lips. With a deft force, he found the colors +and gave this expression to the mouth and eyes of the kneeling girl. It +was the work of a second--the merest twist of the fingers. + +"I just wanted to say," Jennie explained, after waiting for him to see +her, "that I'm sorry to have been so horrid just now, and I'd like to +know when I'm to come again." + +"You could marry Bob Collingham--if you wanted to." + +His efforts had become so passionately living that he couldn't afford to +look up at her now, even had he wished to do so. He did not so wish, +because he knew, still in the spirit, how she would take this +announcement--without the change of a muscle, without a change of any +kind beyond a flame in the amber depths of the irises. It would be a +tawny flame, with an indescribable red in it, and he managed, on the +instant, to translate it into paint. The girl on her knees was getting a +soul as the lumpish white of the plaster cast was taking on the gleam of +ancient, long-worshiped stone. + +"And would you advise me to do that?" + +The voice had the charm of the well-placed mezzo, the enunciation a +melodious precision. Born in Halifax, where she had spent her first +twelve years, the English tradition of musical speech, which in that old +fortified town makes its last tottering stand on the American continent, +had been part of her inheritance. + +Still working at his highest pitch of tensity, Wray considered his +answer. + +"I shouldn't advise you to do that--if I thought about myself." + +"Then why say anything about it?" + +"Because I thought I ought to put you wise." + +"What's the good of that, when I don't like him?" + +"Girls often marry men they don't like when they have as much money as +he'll have." + +"Money's an object, of course; but when a fellow--" + +"He's not so bad. I like him. Most men do." + +"Most men wouldn't have to stand his pawing them about. I like him, +too--except for the physical." + +"Then you wouldn't marry him?" + +"Not unless it was the only way not to starve to death." + +"But you'll marry some one." + +"Probably; and, probably--so will you." + +Her voice was as cool and unflurried as if the words were tossed off +without intention. + +Both knew that an electric change had come into the mental atmosphere. +Of the two, the girl was the less perturbed. Though beneath her feet the +floor seemed to heave like the deck of a ship in a storm, she could +stand in a jaunty attitude, her hands in her ruby-red pockets, and throw +up at its sauciest angle her daintily modeled chin. + +With him it was different. He had two main points to consider. In the +first place, Bob Collingham had just made an announcement to which he, +Wray, was obliged to give some thought. He didn't need to give much to +it, because the conclusions were so obvious. Jennie had hit the poor +fellow in the eye, and, instead of viewing the case in a common-sense, +Gallicized way, he was taking it with crazy American solemnity. There +was nothing to it. The Collinghams would never stand for it. It would be +a favor to them, as well as to Bob himself, to put the whole thing out +of the question. + +"So that settles that," he said to himself. + +Because as he continued to reflect he worked furiously, Jennie saw in +him the being whom the lingo of the hour had taught her to call a +caveman. In the motion-picture theaters she generally frequented, +cavemen struggled with vampires in duels of passion and strength. Jennie +longed to be loved by one of this race; and a caveman who came to her +with violet eyes and a sweeping brown mustache possessed an appeal +beyond the prehistoric. In spite of the challenge in her smile and the +daring angle at which she held her chin, she waited in violent emotion +for what he would say next. + +"Oh, I sha'n't marry for years to come," he jerked out, still going on +with his work. "Sha'n't be able to afford it. If I didn't have a few, a +very few, hundred dollars a year, I couldn't pay you your miserable six +a week." + +She took this manfully. The head, with its ruby-red toque, to which a +tobacco-colored wing gave the dash which was part of Jennie's +personality, was perhaps poised a little more audaciously; but there was +no other sign outside the wildness of her heart. + +"Oh, well; you're only beginning your career as yet. One of these days +you'll do a big portrait--" + +"But, Jennie, marriage isn't everything." + +It was the caveman's plea, the caveman's tone; and though Jennie knew +she couldn't respond to it in practice, the depths of her being +thrilled. + +"No it isn't everything; but for a girl like me it's so much that--" + +"Why specially for a girl like you?" + +"Because her ring and her marriage lines are about all she's got to +show. No woman can hold a man for more than--well, just so long; and +when his heart's gone where is she, poor thing, except for the ring and +the parson's name?" + +"A woman's heart is as free as a man's; and when he goes his way--" + +"She's left standing in the same old place. We'd all be better off if we +felt as free to wander as the men; but most of us are made so that we +don't want to. God! what a life!" she moaned, with a comic grimace to +take the pain from the exclamation. "But, tell me, Mr. Wray, what day do +you want me to come again?" + +He asked, as if casually: + +"Why do you say, 'God! what a life'?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I suppose because it's the only thing _to_ say. +Wouldn't you say it if--" + +"If what?" + +"Oh, nothing." + +"Is it anything to do with me?" + +"No--not specially. It's everything--beginning with being born." + +"I shouldn't think you had any kick against being born--with a face and +a figure like yours." + +"What good are they to me? My mother used to be--Well, I'm only pretty, +and she was a great beauty--but look at her now." + +"But you don't have to go the same way." + +"All women of our class go the same way. It's awful to spend your whole +life toiling and aching and worrying and scraping and paring just on the +hither side of starving to death; and yet, if it was only yourself, you +could stand it. But when you see that your father and mother did it +before you, and that your children will have to do it after you--" + +"Not in this country, Jennie," he put in, sententiously. "This country +gives everyone a chance." + +She gave another of her comic little moans. + +"This country is like every other country. It's a football field. If +you're big enough and tough enough, with skin padded and conscience +wadded, and legs to kick hard enough--you get a chance--yes--and one man +in a hundred thousand is able to make use of it. But if you're just a +decent, honest sort, willing to do a decent, honest day's work, your +only chance will be to keep at it till you drop." + +"Aren't you rather pessimistic?" + +She ignored this question to pace up and down with little tossings of +the hands which Wray found infinitely graceful. + +"Look at my father. He's worked like a convict all his life, just to +reach the magnificent top-notch of forty-five a week. We've been praying +to God to give him a raise--" + +"And perhaps God will." + +She snapped her fingers. "Like that he will! God has no use for the +prayers of the decent, honest sort. He's on the side of the football +tough with the biggest kick in the scrimmage--Ah, what's the use? I'm +born, and I've got to make the best of it. Tell me when to come again, +and let me go." + +Laying aside his brushes and palette, he went close to her. All the +poetry in the world seemed to Jennie to vibrate in his tones. + +"Making the best of it because you're born is loving and letting +yourself be loved, Jennie." + +"So it is." She laughed, with a ring of the desperate in her mirth. "You +don't have to tell me that." + +His voice sank to a whisper. + +"Then why not do it?" + +"I would like a shot if I had only myself to think about." + +"In love, there are only two to think about, Jennie." + +She laughed--a hard little laugh, in spite of its silvery tinkle. + +"When I love I've got two sisters and a brother, all younger than +myself, to bring into the little affair, to say nothing of a nice old +dad and a mother that I'm very fond of. I've got to love for them as +well as for myself--" + +"Then why don't you love Bob Collingham?" + +She threw him a reproachful look. + +"Don't! Please don't! That's brutal of you! But then, you are brutal, +aren't you? I suppose, if you weren't, I shouldn't--" + +A little nondescript gesture expressed her thought better than she could +have put it into words; and with this tribute to the caveman she slipped +away again amid the brocades, pedestals, and old furniture. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Marillo Park, N. Y., is more than a park; it is a life. When a social +correspondent registers the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Robert Bradley +Collingham, Miss Edith Collingham, and Mr. Robert Bradley Collingham, +Junior, have arrived at Collingham Lodge, Marillo Park, from their camp +in the Adirondacks, their farm in Dutchess County, or their apartment in +Fifth Avenue, the implications are beyond any that can be set forth in +cold print. Cold print will tell you that a man has died, but it can +convey no adequate notion of the haven of peace into which presumably he +has entered. + +Cold print might describe Marillo Park as it might describe Warwick +Castle or the Chateau of Chenonceau, with a catalogue of landscapes and +architectural minutiae. It could tell you of charming houses set in +artfully laid-out grounds, of gardens, shrubberies, and tennis courts, +of the club, the swimming pool, the riding school, the golf links; but +only experience could give you that sense of being beyond contact with +outside vulgarity which is Marillo's specialty. Against its high stone +wall outside vulgarity breaks as the sea against a cliff; before its +beautiful grille gate it swirls like a river at the foot of a lawn with +no possibility of overflow. As nearly as may be on earth, the resident +of Marillo Park can be barricaded against the sordid, and withdrawn from +all things inharmonious with his own high thought. + +But every Eden has its serpent, and at Collingham Lodge on that October +afternoon this Satan had taken the form of a not very good-looking young +man who was pacing the flagged terrace side by side with Miss Edith +Collingham. I emphasize the fact that he was not good-looking for the +reason that, in his role of Satan, it was an added touch of the +diabolic. Tall, thin, and stormy eyed, his knifelike features were +streaked with dark shadows which seemed to fall in the wrong places in +his face. When it is further said that he was a young professor of +political economy in a near-by university, without a penny or much +prospect in the world, it will easily be seen how devilish a creature he +was to have crept into such a paradise. + +He had crept in by means of being occasionally invited by young +Sidebottom, whose family had the next estate to Collingham Lodge. Walls +and hedges being unknown at Marillo, the lawns melted into one another +with no other hint of demarcation than could be sketched by clumps of +shrubs or skillfully scattered trees. You could be off the Collingham +grounds and on to those of the Sidebottoms without knowing you had +crossed a boundary. Between trees and shrubs you could slip from the one +place to the other and not be seen from either. + +"She might meet him a thousand times and you or I wouldn't know it," +Mrs. Collingham had pointed out to her husband when her suspicions were +first roused. "All she's got to do is to go round that lilac bush and +she might do anything." + +True; besides which, the mere chances of that hospitality without which +Marillo could not be Marillo would throw together any two young people +minded so to come. In such spacious freedom, an ineligible young +professor could touch the hem of the garment of a banker's daughter +without forcing the issue in any way. + +With the conversation between Miss Edith Collingham and Professor Ernest +Ayling we have almost nothing to do. It is enough to say that, from the +rapidity of the young pair's movements and the animation of their +gestures, Mrs. Collingham judged that they were very much in earnest. +Looking out from what was known as the terrace drawing-room, she was +convinced that no two young people could talk like that without an +understanding between them. + +She had been led to the terrace drawing-room by the sound of voices and +the fact that it was the end of the house toward the Sidebottoms' +premises. Against a background of cannas, dahlias, and gladioli, with +maples flinging their flame and crimson up into a golden sky, the two +figures passing and repassing the long French windows were little more +than silhouettes. Such scraps of their phrases as drifted her way told +her that they were up to nothing more criminal than settling the affairs +of a distracted universe, but she had no intention that they should +settle anything. At the appropriate moment she decided to make her +presence felt. + +In doing this she was supported by the knowledge that her presence was a +presence to be felt impressively. Of her profile, it was mere economy of +effort to say that it was like a cameo, aristocratically regular and +clear-cut. Her hair, prematurely white, lent itself to the simplest +dressing, too classic to be a mode. A figure, of which it would have +been vulgar to use the word "plump," carried the most sumptuous costumes +with regal suitability. Studied, polished, and perfected, she wore her +finish as a mask that concealed the lioness mother which she was. + +It was the lioness mother who confronted the young couple as they turned +in their promenade. Edith alone came forward. Her professor being given +a bow so cold that it was tantamount to a dismissal, as a dismissal was +obliged to take it. Within a minute, he was down both the flowered +terraces and out of sight behind the lilac bush. + +Mrs. Collingham's enunciation had the exquisite precision of the rest of +her personality. + +"I thought I asked you, dear, not to encourage that impossible young man +to come here." + +"But I can't stop his coming without encouragement, can I, mother +darling?" + +Mother darling moved to the edge of the flagged pavement, looking down +on the blaze of summer's final fireworks. On each of the two lower +terraces fountains played, their back drops falling on the water lillies +in the basins. It being the moment for a strong appeal, she sounded the +first note without turning round. + +"Edith, I wonder if you have the faintest idea of a mother's ambitions +for her children?" + +Instinct had taken her to the root of the whole difference between the +two generations in the family. Instinct took Edith to the same spot in +her reply. + +"I think I have. But, on the other hand, I wonder if a mother has the +faintest idea of her children's ambitions for themselves." + +Following an outflanking movement, Mrs. Collingham threw her line a +little farther. + +"It's curious how, as your father and I approach middle age, we feel +that you and Bob are going to disappoint us." + +"I'm sure I speak for Bob as well as for myself when I say that we +wouldn't disappoint you willingly. It's only that the things we want are +so different." + +"Ours--your father's and mine--are simple and natural." + +"That's the way Bob's and mine seem to us." + +She was in a tennis costume carelessly worn and not very fresh. A +weatherbeaten Panama pulled down to shade her eyes gave a touch of +cowboy picturesqueness to an _ensemble_ already picturesque rather than +pretty or beautiful. Leaning nonchalantly against the high, carved back +of a teakwood chair, the figure had a leopard grace to which the owner +seemed indifferent. Indifference, boredom, dissatisfaction focused the +expression of the delicate, irregular features to a wistful longing as +far as possible from the mother's brisk self-approval. All this was +emphasized by a pair of restless, intelligent eyes, of which one was +blue and the other brown. + +The mother turned round with an air of expostulation. + +"I'm sure I can't see what you want to make of your life. You seem to +have no ideals, not any more than Bob. You're not pretty, but you're not +ugly; and you've a kind of witchiness most pretty girls have to do +without. If you'd only dress with some decency and make the best of +yourself, you could take as well as any other girl." + +"Yes; if the game was worth the candle." + +"But surely _some_ game is worth the candle." + +"Oh, certainly; only, not this one, of taking--in the way you seem to +think girls want to take." + +"Some girls do." + +"Oh, some girls, of course--only, not--not my kind." + +"But what _is_ your kind? That's what I can't understand." + +The girl smiled--a dim, distant, rather wistful smile that merely +fluttered on the lips and died like a feeble light. + +"And that's what I can't explain to you, mother darling." + +"Are we so far apart as that?" + +"We're not far apart at all. It's only that I'm myself, while you want +me to be a continuation of you." + +"I don't want anything but what will make for your happiness." + +"My happiness as you see it for me--not as I see it for myself." + +"But you're my child, Edith. I can't be without hopes for you." + +Another dim, quickly dying smile was the only answer to this as Edith +picked up her racket from the teakwood chair and moved toward the house. +On a note that would have been plaintive had it not been so restrained, +Mrs. Collingham continued: + +"Edith darling, I don't think there's been a moment since you were born +when I haven't dreamed of a brilliant future for you, and now--" + +"But, oh, mother dear, what's the use of a brilliant future, as you call +it, when your whole soul is set on something else?" + +The lioness mother was roused. + +"But it shouldn't be set on something else. That's what I resent. Don't +think for a minute that your father and I mean to stand by and see you +throw yourself away." + +"I didn't know there was any question of my doing that." + +"That boy will never be anything better than a university +professor--never in this world; and if it comes to our forbidding it, +forbid it we shall without hesitation." + +The girl's head was flung up. Boredom and indifference passed out of the +strange eyes. For an instant the conflict of wills seemed about to break +out into mutual challenge. It was Edith who first regained enough +mastery of self to say, quietly. + +"You surely wouldn't take that responsibility--whatever I did." + +The soft answer having warned the mother of the danger of collision, she +subsided to an easier, if a more fretful, tone. + +"And Bob's such a worry, too. If your father knew about this Follett +girl, I think he would go wild." + +"But we don't know anything ourselves--beyond the few hints dropped by +Hubert Wray which I'm sure he didn't mean." + +"Well, I'm worried. It's the war, I suppose. If he'd only settle down to +work--" + +"He won't settle down till he marries; and if he marries, it will have +to be some girl he's in love with." + +"If he were to marry a girl of that class--" + +"Girl of what class? What's the good word?" + +Mrs. Collingham turned on her son, who stood on the threshold of one of +the French windows. + +"We're talking about men and women marrying outside of their own class, +Bob, and I was trying to say how fatal it was." + +"Good Lord! mother, do people still think things like that? I thought +they'd rung the bells on them even at Marillo. Wasn't it one of the +things we fought for in the war--to wipe out the lines of caste?" + +"But not to wipe out ideals, Bob. What fathers and mothers have worked +to build up their sons fought to maintain." + +Max, the police-dog puppy, who had been poking his nose between Bob's +legs, now squeezed his vigorous person through the opening and came out +on the terrace joyously. Wagging his powerful tail and sniffing about +each of the ladies in turn, he seemed to be saying: "Don't you see that +I'm here? Now cheer up, everybody, and let's have a good time." + +Bob made a feint at seconding this invitation. Going up to his mother, +he slipped an arm round her waist and kissed her. + +"Old lady, you're years behind the times. What fathers and mothers built +turned out to be a rotten old world which they've handed to us to +bolster up. We're tackling the job as well as we can, but you must give +us a free hand." + +Releasing herself from his embrace, she stood with an air of authority. + +"If giving you a free hand means looking on at the frustration of our +hopes, you'll have to learn, Bob, that your father and mother still have +some of the energy that placed you where you are." + +"Of course you've placed us where we are, mother dear," Edith agreed, +pacifically, "but that's just the point. Because we are where you've +placed us, we're crazy to go on to something else. Isn't that the way of +life--the perpetual struggle for what we haven't got? Because you and +father didn't have a big house and a big position to begin with, you +worked till you got them. Bob and I were born to them, and so--" + +"It's this way, old lady," Bob broke in. "All your generation had +bigness on the brain. It was a kind of disease like the water that +swells a baby's head. They used to think it was a specially American +disease till they found out it was English, French, German, and every +other old thing. The whole lot of you puffed up till the earth hadn't +room for you, and you made the war to push one another off." + +"I didn't make the war, Bob. I've never been anything but a poor mother, +striving and praying for her children." + +"Well, you did push one another off--to the tune of ten or twelve +millions, mostly the young. Since then, the universal disease of swelled +head is being got under control, as they say of epidemics. Only the +left-overs catch it still, and Edith and I aren't that. Hardly anyone of +our age is. We just don't take the germ. Not that we blame you and your +lot, old lady--" + +"Thanks, Bob." + +"Oh, don't thank me. I'm just telling you." + +"And the point of your homily is--" + +"That our generation all over the world has got out of Marillo Park. +Marillo Park is a back number. It's as out of date as the hat you wore +five years ago. You couldn't give it away to the poor, because the poor +don't wear that kind of thing, and the rich have gone on to a new +fashion. Listen, old lady. The thing I'd hate worst of all for dad and +you is to see you left behind, trying to put over the footlights a lot +of old gags that the audience swallowed in its time, but which don't get +a laugh any more. The actor who tries to do that is pass-ay forever--" + +"If you'd keep to English, Bob, I should understand you a little +better." + +Bob grew excited, laying down the law on the palm of his left hand with +the forefinger of the right, while Max, all aquiver, scored the points +with his terrific tail. + +"I'll not only keep to English, but I'll tell you the line to take if +you want to remain the up-to-date, bright-as-a-button old lady you are." + +"I should be grateful." + +"Then here goes. Take a long breath. Keep your wig on. Put your feet in +plaster casts so as not to kick." He summoned his forces to speak +strongly. "If Edith was to pick out a man she wanted to marry--and I was +to pick out a girl--no matter who--it would be the chic new stuff for +father and you--" + +But the chic new stuff for father and her was not laid down on the palm +of the hand for the reason that a portly shadow was seen to move within +the dimness of the drawing-room. At the same time, Max's joy was stifled +by the appearance on the terrace of Dauphin, the Irish setter, who was +consciously the dog _en titre_ of the master of the house. Mrs. +Collingham composed herself. Edith picked up a tennis ball from the +flags and jumped it on her racket. Bob put a cigarette in his mouth and +struck a match. It was the unwritten law of the family not to risk +intimate discussion before a tribunal too august. + +Once he had reached the terrace, it was plain that Collingham was tired. +His shoulders were hunched; his walk had no spring in it. + +"I'm all in," he sighed, sinking into the teakwood chair. + +"Poor father!" + +Edith dropped a hand on his shoulder. He drew it down to his lips and +kissed it. + +"You'd like your tea, wouldn't you?" The solicitude was his wife's. "We +were just going to have it. Bob, do find Gossip and tell him to bring it +here." + +Bob limped into the house and out again. By the time he had returned, +his father was saying: + +"Yes; it's been a trying day. Among other things I've had to dismiss old +Follett." + +"The devil you have!" + +The exclamation was so heartfelt as to turn all eyes on the young man. + +"Why, Bob dear," his mother asked, craftily, "what difference does it +make to you?" + +Bob did his best to recapture a position he was not yet ready to +abandon. + +"It may not make any difference to me, but--but how is he going to +live?" + +"Is that your responsibility?" + +Edith came to her brother's rescue. + +"It's some one's responsibility, mother." + +"Then let some one shoulder it. Bob doesn't have to saddle himself with +it, unless--" + +Convinced that, in the presence of his father, his mother wouldn't speak +too openly, Bob felt safe in a challenge. + +"Yes, mother? Unless--what?" + +Mother and son exchanged a long look. + +"Unless you go--very far out of your way." + +"Well, suppose I did go--very far out of my way?" + +"I should have to leave it with your father to deal with that." + +"Well, it wouldn't be the first time dad's been philanthropic." + +Collingham looked up wearily. He was sitting with one leg thrown across +the other, his left hand stroking Dauphin's silky head. + +"You can be as philanthropic as you like outside business, Bob," he +said, with schooled, hopeless conviction. "Inside, it's no go. Once you +admit the principle of treating your employees philanthropically, +business methods are at an end." + +"I don't think modern economics would agree with you, daddy," Edith +objected. "Aren't we beginning to realize that the well-being of +employees, even when they're no longer of much use--" + +Collingham looked up with a kind of longing in his eyes. + +"I wish I could believe that, Edie, but an efficiency expert wouldn't +bear you out." + +"An efficiency expert doesn't know everything. He studies nothing but +the individual private, whereas a political economist knows what's going +on all up and down the line." + +To Collingham this was like the doctrine of universal salvation to a +Calvinist theologian. He would have seized it had he dared, but for +daring it was too late. He had trained himself otherwise. On a basis of +expert advice and individual efficiency Collingham & Law's had been +built up. All he could do was to grasp at the personal. + +"Where did you hear that?" + +"You can read all about it in Mr. Ayling's last book, _The Economic +Value of Good Will_." + +As she passed through the French window into the house, her mother +turned with a gesture of both outspread hands. + +"There! You see! What did I tell you? She has the effrontery to read his +books and name him openly." + +But too dispirited to take up the gauntlet, Collingham looked, with +welcome, toward Gossip, who appeared in the doorway with the tea. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The Folletts came together every evening about six, chiefly by the +process known to American cities as commuting. Commuting brought them to +Number Eleven Indiana Avenue, Pemberton Heights. Seen from the New York +river-front, Pemberton Heights, on top of a great cliff on the New +Jersey side of the Hudson, suggests a battlemented parapet. By day, its +outline is a fringe against the sky; by night, its clustering lights are +like a constellation. + +Indiana Avenue is one of those rare spots in the neighborhood of New +York where a measure of beauty is still reserved for the relatively +poor. The heights are too high for the railways to scale, too +inconvenient for factories. The not-very-well-to-do can find shelter +there, as the mediaeval peoples of the Mediterranean coast found it in +the rock towns where the pirates couldn't follow them. It is hardly +conceivable that industry will ever climb to this uncomfortable perch, +or that much competition will put up rents. Too inaccessible for the +social rich, and too isolated for the still more social poor, Pemberton +Heights is the refuge of those who don't mind the trouble of getting +there for the sake of the compensation. + +The compensation is largely in the way of air and panorama. Both have a +tendency to take away your breath. You would hardly believe that so much +of New York could be visible all at once. The gigantic profile of +Manhattan is sketched in here with a single stroke, while the river is +thronged like a busy street seen from the top of a tower. City smoke +rolls up and ocean mist rolls in while you are looking on. Sunrise, +moonrise; moonset, sunset; stars in the heaven and lights along the +darkened waterway, afford to the not-very-well-to-do, cooped up all day +in kitchens, offices, and factories, a morning and evening glimpse into +the ecstatic. + +Number Eleven was somewhat withdrawn from all this toward the middle of +the plateau. Built at a period when an architect's ambition was chiefly +to do something singular, it had a great deal of sloping roof, with +windows where you would not expect them. Pemberton Heights being held up +bravely to rain and snow, the color of the house was a weatherbeaten +brown. Two hydrangea trees, shaped like open umbrellas, and covered now +with white blossoms fading to rose, stood one on each side of the front +door in the center of two tiny grassplots. There was a piazza, of +course, where most of the family leisure was passed, and in the yard +behind the house there stood a cherry tree. All up and down the street +for the length of about half a mile were similar little houses, each +with its piazza and its architectural oddity, homes of the +not-very-well-to-do, content with their relative poverty. Among +themselves they formed a society as distinct and as active as that of +Marillo Park, and out of it they got as much pleasure as the Sidebottoms +and Collinghams from their more exclusive forgatherings. + +In this soil, the Folletts had taken root with the ease of +transplantation of the Anglo-Saxon race. Drawn to Pemberton Heights by +the presence there of other Canadians, Josiah had bought the little +house for seven thousand dollars. On this he had paid four, raising the +other three on a mortgage which it was his ruling desire to pay off. The +mild, tenacious optimism of his nature convinced him he should be able +to do this, in spite of the danger of being "fired" hanging over him for +two years. The fact that, though the months kept passing, that sword +didn't fall inspired the belief that it never would. He had grown so +sure of this that with regard to the warning issued by Collingham he had +never taken his wife into his confidence. For one thing, it was useless +to alarm her when it might be without cause, and for another.... + +But that was the secret tragedy of Josiah's life. He had not made good +the promise he gave when Lizzie Scarborough married him, and the falling +of the sword would be the final proof of it. It would mean that his +whole patient, painstaking life had fitted him for nothing better than +the scrap heap. That he should come to such an end he couldn't believe +possible. That after nearly fifty years of uncomplaining drudgery he +should be flung aside as useless to man in general and worse than +useless to his family was not, he argued, in keeping with the will of +God. It was to the will of God he trusted more than to the mercy of +Bradley Collingham, though he trusted to them both. + +When he married Lizzie in the little town of Lisgar, Nova Scotia, he had +been a bank clerk. A bank clerk in Canada is a kind of young nobleman at +the beginning of what may be a striking career, after the manner of a +fledgling in diplomacy. The banking institutions being few and large, +the employees are moved from post to post, much like _attaches_ or army +officers. As moves bring promotion, the clerk becomes a teller and the +teller a cashier and the cashier a branch manager and the branch manager +a wealthy man in touch with world-wide issues. It was the kind of +progress Josiah expected when he married Lizzie Scarborough, the kind of +future they dreamed of and talked about, and which never came. + +Josiah lacked something. You couldn't put your finger on the flaw in his +energy, but you knew it was there. He was moved about, of course, but +with little or no promotion. Other men got that, but he was ignored. +Harum-scarum young fellows whose ignorance of bookkeeping was a scandal +were lifted over his head, while he and Lizzie stared at each other in +perplexity. + +Hardest of all for him was that, as years went by, Lizzie herself lost +belief in him. More tender with him for his failure, she nevertheless +saw that he was not the man she had supposed in the gay young days at +Lisgar, and he saw that she saw. She gave up the hope of promotion +before he did. The best to which they came to aspire was a "raise." + +It was bitter for Lizzie because, as she was fond of saying to herself, +and now and then to the children, she had been born a lady. This was no +more than the truth. Whatever the meaning given to the word, Lizzie +fulfilled it, though her claims were more than moral ones. The +Scarboroughs had been great people in Massachusetts before the +Revolution. The old Scarborough mansion, still standing in Cambridge, +bears witness to the generous scale on which they lived. But they left +it as it stood, with its pictures, its silver, its furniture, its +stores, rather than break their tie with England. Scorned by the country +from which they fled, and ignored by that to which they remained true, +their history on Nova-Scotian soil was chiefly one of descent. A few of +them prospered; a few reached high positions in the adopted land, but +most of them lacked opportunity as well as the will to create it. True, +Lizzie's father was a clergyman; but her sisters married poorly, her +brothers dropped into any chance jobs that came their way, while she +herself got only such fulfillment of her dreams as she found at +Pemberton Heights. Even the move to New York which Josiah had made when +convinced that the Bank of the Maritime Provinces held no further hope +for him had not greatly prospered them. Five years of drifting between +one bank and another were followed by five steady years with Collingham +& Law; but even that peaceful time was now at an end. + +While the Collinghams were drinking tea on the flagged terrace, and +Jennie was on the ferryboat, and Teddy dressing and skylarking after his +plunge at the gym, and Follett nearing home, Lizzie was on her knees +pinning up the draperies she was "making over" for Gussie. Pansy, the +daughter of a bulldog and a Boston terrier, whose pansy-face had in it a +more than human yearning, stood looking on, with forelegs wide apart. + +Gussie was fifteen, pretty, pert, and impatient. + +"Everyone'll see that it's the old thing you've been wearing since I +dunno when." + +Accustomed to this plaint, Lizzie thought it useless to reply. + +"I'd rather not have a rag to wear than a thing everyone's sick of the +sight of. Momma, why can't I have a new dress, right out and out?" + +"My darling, you'll have a new dress when your father gets his raise. It +must come before long; but I can't possibly give it you till then." + +"I wish you'd stop talking," came from Gladys, who was busy with her +lessons in a corner. "How can I study with all this row going on? Momma, +what's the meaning of 'coagulation'?" + +Coagulation explained, the fitting finished, and a dispute adjusted +between the two children, Lizzie began to spread the table for supper, +Gussie helping her. Most of the downstairs portion of the house being +thrown into one large living room, the dining table stood at the end +nearest the kitchen and pantry. It was a pleasure to watch the supple +movements of Gussie's figure, and the flittings of her slim-wristed +hands as she took the plates and laid them in their places. Most people +said she would one day be prettier than Jennie, but as yet that was only +promise. + +Quite apparent was the fact that the mother had been more beautiful than +any of her daughters was ever likely to become. At fifty-odd, it was a +beauty that still had youth in it. Worn with the duties of providing for +a husband and four children, it retained a quality proud and aloof. In +her scouring and cooking and endless domestic round, Lizzie was like an +actress dressed and made up for a humble part rather than really living +it. The Scarborough tradition, which had first refused to bend to king +against people and again to yield to people against king, had survived +in this woman fighting for her inner life against failure, poverty, and +sordidness. + +She was singing at her work when the front door opened and Josiah came +in. He stood for a minute in the little entry, surveying the living-room +absently, while Pansy pranced about his feet. Gladys was still at her +lessons, Gussie laying out the knives and forks. + +"Where's your mother?" + +Gladys jumped up and ran to him. She was his youngest, his darling, just +over twelve. He had always hoped to do better by her than by the older +ones. + +"Hello, daddy!" With her arms round his neck, she was pulling his face +down to hers. + +"Where's your mother?" he asked of Gussie, having advanced into the +room. + +Gussie looked up from her task to inform him that her mother was in the +kitchen, but, seeing his gray face and shambling gait, she paused with a +fork in her hand. + +"You're all right, daddy, aren't you?" + +The sound of voices having called Lizzie from her work, she stood on the +threshold of the pantry, drying her hands on the corner of her apron. +Before he said a word she knew that the calamity which forever threatens +those dependent on a weekly wage had fallen on the family. + +"Lizzie, I'm fired." + +She had never had to take a blow like this, not even when the three who +came before Jennie had died in babyhood. This was the worst and hardest +thing her imagination could conjure up, because it meant not only the +sweeping away of their meager income, but her husband's defeat as a man. + +Going to him, she laid her hands on his shoulders and tried to look into +the eyes that avoided hers in shame. + +"We'll meet it, Jo," she said, quietly. "We've been through other +things. I've saved a little money ahead--nearly a hundred dollars. Don't +feel badly. I'm glad you're out of Collingham & Law's, where you've said +yourself that your desk was in a draught. You'll get another job, with +bigger pay, and perhaps"--she sprang to the great glorious hope she was +always cherishing--"and perhaps Teddy will earn more money and be a +great success." + +"_Hel_-lo, ma!" + +Teddy himself was swinging down the room, Pansy capering round him with +her silvery bark. Having tossed his cap on the sofa, he caught his +mother in a bearish hug. Fresh from his bath, gleaming, ruddy, +clear-eyed, stocky rather than short, he was a Herculean cub, the +makings of a man, but as yet with no soul beyond play. No one had ever +seen him serious. It was a drawback to him at Collingham & Law's, where +he skylarked his way through everything. "You must knock the +song-and-dance out of that young blood," was Mr. Bickley's report on +him, "or he'll never earn his pay." + +Before his mother could say anything he was tickling her under the chin +with little "clks!" of the tongue, Pansy assisting by springing halfway +to his shoulder. The sport ended, he held her out at his strong arm's +length, laughing down into her eyes. + +"Good old ma!--the best ever! What have you got for supper?" + +She told him, as nearly as possible as if nothing else was on her mind. +Then she added: + +"You've got to know, Teddy darling. They've discharged your father from +Collingham & Law's." + +Confusedly, Teddy Follett knew he had received a summons, the call to be +a man. Hitherto he had been a boy; he had thought himself a boy; he had +called himself a boy. Even in the navy he had been with boys who were +treated as boys. The pang of agony he felt now was that he was a boy +still--with a man's part to play. + +He did his best to play it on the instant. + +"Oh, is he? Then that's all right. I'll be making more money soon and be +able to swing the whole thing." + +Gussie was here the discordant element. + +"You've got to make it pretty quick, then, and be smarter than you've +ever been before." + +He turned away from the group in which his mother watched him with +adoring eyes while his father stood with gaze cast down like a criminal. + +"I'm sorry to put the burden on you at your age, my boy," he said, +brokenly, "but perhaps I may get another job, after all, and one that'll +pay better." + +Teddy didn't hear this, not that he was so far away, but because he was +listening to that call which seemed so impossible to respond to. He +would _have_ to be a man; he would _have_ to earn big money, and at +present he didn't see how. Fifty bucks a week, he was saying to himself, +was hardly enough to run the family, and he had only eighteen! + +He was standing with his back to them all, his hands in his pockets, +when the front door opened again. Jennie came in all aglow and abloom +after her walk from the street cars. + +"Well, what's the pose?" she asked, briskly, of Teddy, beginning to take +off her jacket. "You ought to be model to a sculptor." + +"Jen," he whispered, hoarsely, before she could join the others, "pa's +fired." + +To take this information in, Jennie paused with her arms still +outstretched in the act of taking off her jacket. + +"Do you mean they don't want him any more at Collingham & Law's?" + +"That's the right number." + +"But--but what are we going to do?" + +"That's for you and me to say. It's up to us, Jen. Pa'll never get +another job, not on your life, unless it's running a lift. We've got to +shoulder it--you and me between us." + +Jennie passed on into the room and down to the group round the table. +The glow had gone out of her cheeks, but she was free from her brother's +dismay. To begin with, she was a woman, and he was only a man. All his +adventures would have to be dull ones in the line of work whereas +hers.... She could hear Wray saying, as he had said only two hours ago, +"You could marry Bob Collingham if you wanted to." + +She didn't want to--as far as that went; but if the worst were to come +to the worst and they should be in need of bread.... + +"Hello, mother! Hello, daddy!" Jennie was quite self-possessed. "Teddy's +been telling me. Too bad, isn't 't? But something will turn up. What is +there for supper, Gus?" + +Gussie minced round the table, putting on the salt cellars. + +"There's pickled humming birds for princesses," she said, witheringly. +"After that there'll be honey-dew jam." + +"Then I'll go up and take my hat off." + +This coolness had the inspiriting effect of an officer's calm on a +sinking ship. It was an indication that life could go on as usual; and +if life could go on as usual, all wasn't lost. + +"And for mercy's sake," Jennie added, turning to leave them, "don't +everybody look so glum. Why, if you knew what I could tell you you'd all +be ordering champagne." + +So they were tided over the dreadful minute, which meant that they found +power to go on with the preparations for supper and to sit down to +supper itself. There the old man cheered up sufficiently to be able to +tell what had passed between him and the head of the firm. He was still +doing this when Teddy sprang to his feet, striking the table with a blow +that made the dishes jump. + +"God damn Bradley Collingham!" he cried, with his mouth full. "I'll do +something to get even with him yet--if I have to go to the chair for +it." + +"Sit down, you great gump--talking like that!" Gussie pulled her brother +by the coat till he sank back into his seat. "Momma, you should send him +away from the table." + +"That's a very wicked thing to say, my boy--" Josiah was beginning. + +"Let him talk as he likes," the mother broke in, calmly. "Going to the +chair can't be so terrible--if you have a reason." + +She went on carving as if she had said nothing strange. + +"Well, ma, I call that the limit," Jennie commented. + +"Oh no, it isn't," the mother returned, with the new strength which +seemed to have come to her within half an hour. "I'm ready to say a good +deal more." + +She looked adoringly toward Teddy, who after his outburst had returned +sheepishly to his plate, while Pansy stood apart from them all, wise, +yearning, and yet implacable, a little doggy Fate. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +No difference of standard in the Collingham household was so obvious as +that between Dauphin, the Irish setter, and Max, the police dog. The +situation was specially hard on Dauphin. To have owned Collingham Lodge +and its occupants during all his conscious life, and then one day to +find himself obliged to share this dominion with a stranger had given +him in his declining years a pessimistic point of view. It had made him +proud, cold, withdrawn, like a crusty old aristocrat forced in among +base company. To the best of his ability he ignored the police dog, +though it was difficult not to be aware of the presence of a being too +exuberant to appreciate disdain. + +For Dauphin, the most beastly experience of the day began about four +each afternoon, at the minute when the dog-clock told him that his +master might be expected home. That was the hour at which from time +immemorial he had taken possession of the great front portico where the +distant burr of the motor-car first reached him. When the burr became a +throb he knew it was passing the oak that marked the Collingham +boundary; and, since it had arrived on his own ground, he could run down +the driveway to meet it. This had been his exclusive right. To be joined +daily now by a frisky, irrepressible pup made him feel like an old man +tied to an insupportable young wife from whom his own death will be the +sole deliverance. Life to Dauphin had thus become a mingling of +impatience and anguish, poorly masked beneath an air of dignity. + +And as far as he could judge, his master's wife, of whom he had no great +opinion, had begun to share these emotions. Anguish and impatience had +become of late the chief elements in the aura she threw out, and by +which dogs take their sense of men. It was not that her words or +expressions betrayed her. It was only that when she came within his +sphere of perception he was aware that she felt the kind of passion the +police dog roused in himself. + +He was aware of it on this May afternoon, more than six months after she +had first learned of Bob's infatuation for the Follett girl, when she +came out on the portico to listen for the expected car. She would come +out, listen, and go in. Each time she came out, each time she listened, +each time she retired, he felt the sweeping to and fro of an imperious +will worried or frustrated, though he sat on his haunches and gave no +sign. He couldn't give a sign, because Max would misunderstand it. There +he was, down on the lawn before the portico, grinning, prancing, joking, +calling names--names quite audible in dog intercourse, though a human +being couldn't catch them--and the least little movement Dauphin made +would be taken as concession. The old setter was sorry. He would have +liked showing his master's wife--he didn't consider her his +mistress--that he understood her distress; but he was nailed to the +doorstep by _force majeure_. + +And the woman envied him. He was perfectly aware of that. She assumed +that dogs had no social problems. All he had to do, she thought, was to +sit and blink at the magnolias, hawthorns, and lilacs pursuing one +another into bloom. All he had to think of was the up hill and down dale +of the view before him, a haze of blue and green and rose melting to the +mauve of hills. + +As a matter of fact, this was something like what was passing through +her mind. A masterful woman, she was nevertheless reaching that point of +self-pity where she envied the untroubled dogs. While she carried the +cares of so many others, no one else carried hers. All through the +winter she had had Edith and Bob on her mind, and now she had Bradley. +On leaving for the bank that morning, he had been so terribly upset that +she couldn't rest till knowing how he had got through his day. She was +the more worried because of being entirely alone and thus thrown in on +herself. + +Edith had gone to stay with people in the Berkshires. Of that her mother +was glad. She meant for the present to keep her there. With her queer +ideas, she would only make her brother the more difficult to deal with, +though she had not been difficult herself. Nearly seven months had +passed, and yet her affair with Ayling was exactly where it had been in +the previous October. That was the advantage of a girl; you could always +tell where she stood. Edith was tenacious, but not defiant. Though +capable of engaging herself to this young man, she would hardly marry +him in face of her father's opposition. + +Bob, on the other hand, was not only head-strong, but unreasonable. He +would marry the Follett girl if she would marry him, whatever might be +the consequences. She, his mother, had it "out" with him, and he had +said so. It was a terrible thing to have their whole domestic happiness +hang on the whim of a creature like the Follett girl; but apparently it +did. + +She had not spoken to Bob till Hubert Wray had surrendered all he had to +tell. He had done this through a process of "pumping" of which he +himself had hardly been aware. Having ascertained that his New England +connections were unexceptional, Junia had been attentive to him through +the winter, making him feel that Collingham Lodge was a second home. +What he didn't tell to her he told to Edith, and what Edith knew the +mother had no great difficulty in finding out. Thus when, on the +previous Saturday, Bob was about to leave for a party on Long Island, +they had had the plain talk which could no longer be deferred. + +They had had it after lunch, seated on a bench overlooking the tennis +court. They had come out ostensibly to talk over the sacrifice of the +pink-and-white hawthorn in the shade of which they sat in favor of +extending the court so that Bob and Edith could both have parties +simultaneously. While the new court would be an improvement, they would +regret the celestial flowering of the hawthorn whenever, as at present, +it was May. + +"Not that it would make so very much difference to your father and me," +Junia began, in a quavering tone, "if things we're afraid of were to +happen." + +So the subject was opened up. Bob could only ask, "What things?" and his +mother could only tell him. + +"It's quite true, old lady," he confessed. "You might as well know it +first as last." + +Junia had not brought up her children without having learned that, while +Edith could be controlled, Bob could only be managed. With Edith, she +could say, "I forbid," with Bob, it had to be, "I suffer." + +"Of course, dear," she said now, "I'm your mother, and whatever you do I +shall try to accept. It will be hard, naturally--it's hard already--but +you can count on me." + +He took her hand and squeezed it. + +"Thanks, old lady." + +"Of course I can't answer for your father. You know for yourself how +stern and unyielding he is." + +"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. It's always seemed to me that he'd give +in to a lot of things, if you'd only let him." + +This perspicacity being dangerous, she glided to another aspect of her +theme. + +"What I don't understand is why, if you've been in love with her for +seven or eight months, and you mean to marry her, you haven't done it +already." + +He took two or three puffs at his cigarette before tossing off: + +"I'd do it like a shot, if she would." + +"And she won't?" + +"Not yet." + +"And you think she will?" + +"I'm sure she will." + +"What makes you so certain?" + +"Nothing. I just know." + +Having had her fears verified, Junia had no object in pushing the +inquiry further. Her duty in life was to take events as they touched her +family and mold them for the best. When she called it "the best" she +meant it as the best. She was not a worldly woman with mere fashionable +ends in view. Eager for the good of her children, she was conscientious +in pursuit of the things she truly believed to be worthiest. + +All through Sunday she took counsel with herself, going to communion at +the restful little Marillo church, and putting new intensity into her +devotion. She had guests at lunch and went out to dinner, and, though +equal to all the social demands, her mind did not relinquish the purpose +she had in view. Could she have accomplished it without her husband's +aid, she would probably not have taken him into her confidence. It being +her special task to deal with the children, the less he knew of their +mistakes and escapades the simpler it was for them all. + +It may be an illuminating digression here to say that there had been a +time, some fifteen years earlier, when Junia had had an experience as +difficult as the one she was facing now. Nothing but a trained +subconsciousness had carried her through that, and she looked for the +same mainstay of the self to come to her aid again. One of the lessons +she had learned at that time was the value of quietude, of reserve in +"giving herself away." She was not one to whom this restraint came +natural; but for the very reason that it was acquired, it had the +intenser force. + +It was at a time when they had lived in the Marillo house only a little +while, and the Bradley of that day was not the portly, domesticated +bigwig of the present. He was a tempestuous sea of passions right at the +dangerous flood-tide, the middle forties. The first ardor of married +life was at an end for both of them; but while, for her, existence was +running more and more into one quiet purposeful stream, for him it was +raging off in new directions. + +Whatever Junia suspected she was too wise to know it as a certainty. +Knowing, she argued, would probably weaken her and do nothing to +strengthen him. Already she was more intensely a mother than she was a +wife, living in the amazing careers she was planning for her children. +Edith would marry an English peer, while Bob would take a brilliant +place in his own country. Their victories would be her victories, till, +in some far-distant, beatified old age, she would be translated to the +stars. + +And then one afternoon, when the flagged pavement had only recently been +laid and they were drinking tea on it, Bradley had said, right out of a +clear sky: + +"Junia I don't know whether you've suspected it or not, but for some +time past I've had a mistress." + +That was the instant when she first learned the value of a schooled +subconsciousness. It seemed to her that she had been slain; and yet, +with a nerve little less than miraculous, she went on with her tasks +among the tea things. + +"If you've done it so far without telling me, Bradley," she said, at +last, with only the slightest tremor in her tone, "why shouldn't you let +me remain ignorant?" + +"Does that mean that you don't care if I go on?" + +"I think you can answer that as well as I. What I don't care for is to +be drawn into an affair from which your own good taste--merely to put it +on that ground--should be anxious to leave me out." + +He looked at her savagely. + +"Don't you resent it any more than that?" + +"Is that why you're giving me the information--to see how much I resent +it?" + +"Partly." + +"Then I'm afraid you will have your labor for your pains. You'll never +see more than you're seeing at this instant." + +That stand was a master stroke. It gave her the advantage of being +enigmatic. It enabled her to take blows without seeming to have felt +them, and to deliver them without betraying the quarter from which the +next would come. + +Right there and then Bradley had been monstrous enough to suggest that, +since she liked Collingham Lodge, she should remain there and let him go +away. He would make generous provision for her and the children, and in +return expect his divorce. + +But she had taken her stand--the enigmatic. She didn't argue; she didn't +plead; she didn't reproach him; she didn't treat him to the scene +through which weaker women would have put him. + +"Bradley, I shall expect you to remain with me," were the only words she +used. + +And he had remained. Less than two years later, it was she who fixed the +sum the other woman was to be paid in order to get rid of her. She was +sufficiently in sympathy with her sex to insist on the terms being +liberal. "I think she should have fifty thousand dollars," she declared, +and fifty thousand dollars the woman received. + +So that, if Bradley had lost the first passion of his love for her, he +had gained vastly in respect. Hot-tempered, high-handed, impetuous, +imperious, as he knew her to be, he saw her curb and compress these +qualities till they became a prodigious motor force. If she had not +mastered herself, she had mastered the expression of herself till she +was an instrument at her own command. + +It was as an instrument at her own command that, on the Wednesday +morning, before he went to town, she gave her husband as much +information as she thought he ought to possess about his son. + +"Would you mind sitting down for a minute, Bradley? I've something +important to say." + +He had come up to her room, as she took her breakfast in bed, after he +had had his own downstairs. Wearing a lace dressing jacket and a boudoir +cap, she was propped up with pillows, a wicker tray with legs on the +coverlet before her. In the canopied Louis Quinze bed of old +rich-grained walnut, raised six inches above the floor, she suggested an +eighteenth-century French princess, Madame Sophie or Madame Victoire, +receiving a courtier at her _levee_. + +Luxurious with a note of chastity was the rest of the chintzy room. The +pictures on the walls were sacred ones, copies of old Italian masters. A +_prie-dieu_ in a corner supported a bible and a prayer-book in tooled +bindings with a coat of arms. The white-paneled wardrobe room seen +through a door ajar was as austere as a well-kept sacristy. Perfumed air +came in through the open windows, and thrushes were fluting in the +trees. + +Reminding her that Tims, the chauffeur, would soon be at the door to +take him to the bank, Collingham sank into the armchair nearest to the +bed. His thoughts were on the amount in the proposed issue of Paraguayan +bonds the house would be able to carry. + +"It's about Bob," she began, in a tone little more than casual. "Did you +know he was in a scrape?" + +He started, firing off his brief questions rapidly: + +"Who? Bob? What kind of scrape? With a girl?" + +"Exactly. With a girl who may give us a good deal of trouble unless the +thing is stopped." + +If Collingham's heart sank it was not wholly because of the scrape with +the girl, but because he was afraid of chickens coming home to roost. +Though he had never broached the subject with the boy, he had often +wondered as to how he met sexual temptation; and now he was to learn. + +"Is it anything very wrong?" + +"Only in intention." She sipped her coffee before letting him have the +full force of it. "He wants to marry her." + +He felt some slight relief. + +"Oh, then it's not--" + +"No; not as far as he's concerned. As to her--well I presume that she's +the usual type." + +"Did he tell you himself?" + +"He told me himself." + +"His job at the bank pays him only two thousand dollars a year. Did he +say what else he expected to marry on?" + +"We didn't discuss that; but I suppose it would be what he expects you +to give him." + +"And if I don't give him anything?" + +"That's what I wanted to know. If you didn't--" + +"He'd call it off?" + +"No; perhaps not. But she would." + +"Have you any special reason for thinking so?" + +"None but my knowledge of--of that kind of woman in general." She went +on as quietly as if the incident of fifteen years previously had never +occurred. "Men are so guileless about women who have--who have love to +sell. They're such simpletons. They so easily think these women like +them for themselves when all the while they're only gauging the measure +of the pocketbook." + +Collingham endeavored not to hang his head, but it seemed to go down in +spite of him as the placid voice sketched his program for the day. + +Junia had heard her husband say that Mr. Huntley, his second in command, +was to go to South America in connection with the issue of Paraguayan +bonds. Why shouldn't Bob be sent with him? It would add to his +experience and make him feel important. After he had left Asuncion, +reasons could be found for keeping him at Lima, Rio, or Buenos Aires +till the whole thing blew over. Having accepted the suggestion +gratefully, Collingham came to the question he had up to now repressed. + +"Who's the girl? I suppose you know." + +"She's been posing for Hubert Wray. Bob met her at the studio. Her name +is--" + +Grasping the arms of the chair, he strained forward. + +"Not--not Follett's girl?" + +"Yes; that _is_ the name. You dismissed her father from the bank last +year." Her eyes followed him as he stumbled to his feet. "But what +difference does it make whether it's she or some one else?" + +He couldn't tell her. The fear of the vague nemesis he called "chickens +coming home to roost" was too obscure. Listening in a daze to the rest +of his instructions, he seized them chiefly because they would ease the +line he was to take with Bob. + +He was to give him no hint that he, the father, had heard anything of +the Follett girl. The South American mission could stand on its own +merits as extremely flattering. Whatever reluctance Bob might feel, he +would see the opportunity as too important to forego. All Junia begged +of her husband was to know nothing of Bob's love affairs. If Bob himself +brought the subject up, it would be enough to remain firm on the +question of money. Of the rest, Junia was willing to take charge, as she +would explain to him when he came home in the afternoon. + +These instructions Collingham did his best to carry out. At lunch, in +the house's private room at the Bowling Green Club, he approached Mr. +Huntley on the subject of being responsible for Bob on the errand to +Asuncion, and Mr. Huntley expressed himself as delighted. On returning +to the bank, Collingham asked Miss Ruddick to bring the young man to the +private office. + +"Hello, Bob! How are things going?" + +"So, so, dad," Bob admitted, guardedly. + +"Sit down. I want to talk to you." + +Bob sat down gingerly, warily, scenting something in the wind, much like +Max or Dauphin from a person's atmosphere. Whatever his mother had been +told on Saturday, his father might have learned by Wednesday. Bob would +have been sure of this were it not that his mother often had curious +reserves. + +For Collingham there was nothing to do but to plunge on the subject of +South America, and he plunged. But, in his dread of the roosting +chicken, he plunged nervously, with a tendency to redden, to stammer, +and otherwise to betray himself. Before he had finished Bob was saying +inwardly: "Mother's put him wise to Jennie and I'm to be packed off. +Well, we'll see." + +"It's thumping good of you and Mr. Huntley, dad," he said, aloud; "and I +suppose it would do if I gave you my answer in a day or two." + +"That's the girl," the father thought; but he obeyed Junia's injunction +as to not being explicit when it came to words. + +"You see, it's this way, Bob: It's not exactly an invitation that I'm +giving you; it's--it's a decision of the bank of which you're an +employee. We take it for granted that you'll go if we want to send you." + +"And I take it for granted that you won't send me if I don't want to +go." + +Not to force the issue, Collingham left the matter there, preferring to +consult Junia as to what he should do next. To this end, he drove home +earlier than usual. + +It added to Dauphin's irritation that Max should hear the motor first. +With ears cocked like a donkey's, how could he help it? There was +nothing in the world that Dauphin despised as he despised the police +dog's ears. They were forever pointed, alert, inquisitive, ignoble. But +there it was! Max was bounding down the driveway, covering yards at a +spring, before the setter could drag himself from his haunches. It was +Max, too, who, when the motor passed the oak, gave the first yelp of +delight. + +But it was Dauphin who, as his master descended from the car, entered +into his depression. It was he, too, who perceived the conflict of auras +when wife and husband met. Waves of unreasoned dread on the one side +encountered a force of clear-eyed determination on the other as the +weltering sea comes up against the steadfast rocks. + +They began talking as they turned to enter the house, continuing the +conversation within the great hall, where only the strip of red carpet +running its length and up the fine stairway, two or three bits of old +carved English oak, and the brass touches on the wrought-iron baluster, +relieved the admirable nudity. + +"Now come in here," she said, briskly, having heard all that had passed +between him and Bob. + +He followed her into the library, where she led the way to the desk. + +"Read that." + +He ran his eye over the lines written in her legible, decorative hand. + + _Collingham Lodge,_ + _Marillo Park._ + + _Dear Miss Follett_: + + My husband and I would be greatly obliged if you could give us a + half hour of your time to talk over matters which may prove as + important to you as to us. If you could make it convenient to + come here to-morrow, Thursday, afternoon, you would find a very + good train at three-twenty-five, and one by which to return at + five-forty-seven. I inclose a time-table, and you would be met + at Marillo Station. + + Yours sincerely, + _Junia Collingham_. + +He looked at her wonderingly. + +"What's the big idea?" + +"A very big idea. Don't you see? We can cut the ground right from under +his feet without his ever thinking we had anything to do with it. You +personally needn't be supposed to know that this nonsense has ever been +in the air. It's too late for me, of course, because he and I have +already talked of it. But for you--" + +He tapped the paper in his hand. + +"But this move I don't understand." + +"Well, sit down and I'll tell you." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +At the minute when Junia Collingham was laying before her husband a plan +which would bring comparative wealth to the Follett family, a number of +things were happening in and about New York. + +First, Lizzie Follett had dropped into a chair to think, an action rare +with her. She generally thought as she whisked about her work, but this +problem called for concentration. Briefly, it was as to how to cook the +supper without heat. The gas-man had just gone away, and the gas for the +range had been cut off because she couldn't pay a bill of twenty-nine +dollars and sixty-seven cents, or anything on account. This was +Wednesday, and she would have no more money till the children got their +various pay-envelopes on Saturday. + +Though in the back of her mind she blamed herself for an unwise +distribution of the week's funds, it was one of those situations in +which you blame yourself without seeing how you could have done +otherwise. With six to feed, and all the subsidiary expenses of a family +to meet, she had twenty-two dollars a week. Of his eighteen, Teddy gave +her fifteen, three being needed for car fares and other small +necessities. From the six she earned at the studio, Jennie contributed +three. Gladys, who was now a cash girl on seven a week, was able to turn +in four. Gussie brought nothing to the common fund as yet, for the +reason that the three-fifty which Madame Corinne conceded for the +privilege of "teaching her the millinery" allowed no margin over what +she had to spend. + +To Lizzie, during the past six months, life had become an exciting game. +How to pay the minimum on every account and yet keep alive her credit +had been the calculation with which she rose in the morning and lay down +at night. It was a game that could be played successfully for two +months, or three months, or four. When it came to six, the heaping-up of +unpaid balances made it harder to go on. + +It was making it impossible to go on. During the past fortnight she had +found her credit stopped at three places in The Square where Pemberton +Heights did its shopping. In vain she had tried to transfer her account +elsewhere, but Pemberton Heights is no more than a huge village where +the status of most families is known. More and more her small amount of +cash was needed for cash purposes in order that the family might live. + +Lizzie sat down to cast up her assets. She had the small remnants of a +ham which could be eaten cold. She had bread and butter. If she could +only make tea.... She might have done that in a neighbor's house, but +she shrank from exposing a situation which a lucky stroke might change. + + ---- + +At the same moment Josiah was turning away from a wooden bar which shut +off an office from the public. He had entered and stood there, meek, +unobtrusive, trembling, while none of the young men or young women busy +at desks or with one another paid him any attention. When a girl with +hair combed over her ears, very bright eyes, and very short skirts, +tripped by him accidentally, he managed to stammer out something in +which she caught the word "job." The word being significant, and +Josiah's appearance more so, she whispered to a gentleman, who left his +desk and came forward. + +"No; I'm very sorry. We can't do anything for you." + +He hadn't waited for the word "job"; he hadn't waited for Josiah to +speak at all. He knew the situation so well that his method was to end +it there and then. Josiah turned away meekly as he had entered, and with +no sinking of the heart. His heart used to sink; but that was four and +five months previously, before he had exhausted his emotions. Now the +bitterness of death was past. It had passed day by day and inch by inch, +by stages of slow agony, leaving him with a dried soul that couldn't +suffer any more. + + ---- + +And also at this minute Teddy was standing in his cage at the bank in a +very peculiar situation. At least it struck him as peculiar, because for +the first time he perceived its opportunities. + +For Teddy, too, six months had been a period of development, just as it +is for a green fruit when you pick it and lay it in the sun. It ripens, +but it ripens green. When you eat it, it has a green flavor, or a flat +flavor, or none at all. Teddy was a fruit to be left on the tree to take +its time. He was now twenty-one, with the promptings of sixteen. At his +own rate of progress, he would probably have reached twenty by the time +he was twenty-two, but thirty at twenty-five. + +As it was, he had been called on to be thirty when his growth was just +beginning. Not merely the circumstances had made this demand on him, but +the dependence, more or less unconscious, of the members of the family. +They looked to him to do something big because he was a young man. +Having heard of other young men who had been financially heroic, they +expected him to be the same. The possibilities, open to a bank clerk of +twenty-one had no relation to their hopes. Even his mother, chiefly +because of her adoration, seemed to feel that he should spring from +eighteen to a hundred dollars a week by the force of inner flame. + +She didn't say so, of course. She only revealed her sentiments as Pansy +revealed hers, by an inextinguishable look. The father did no more than +throw emphasis on the boy's responsibility. Jennie and Gladys never said +anything at all, but Gussie was quite frank. + +"A great big fellow like you and only making eighteen per! Look at poor +momma, working her fingers to the bone. I'd be ashamed if I were you. +Why, Fred Inglis orders his clothes at Love's and keeps his own Ford." + +It was all there in a nut shell--his inability to rise to the occasion +in a land where everyone else who was worth his salt had only to shake +the money tree and pick up coin. How Fred Inglis did it Teddy couldn't +think, when your value by the week was so definitely fixed and a raise +lay so far ahead. If he had developed during the past six months, it was +mainly through a carking sense of inefficiency. + +Meanwhile, he had to do what Gussie told him--watch his mother work her +fingers to the bone. In spite of a tendency to squabble, the Folletts +were an affectionate family, and the mother was the center of their +love. Teddy didn't stop to analyze what she was to them; he only knew +that there was nothing he wouldn't be to her. If he could only have +compassed it, she would have had a bar-pin like their neighbor, Mrs. +Weatherby; she would have worn the skunk neckpiece for which he had once +heard her utter a desire; she would have gone out in his Ford oftener +than Fred Inglis's mother in his. These things he would have done for +her and more, had he but been the financial Titan all American example +called on him to become. Between Gussie's taunts and his own What lack I +yet? he was reaching a condition of despair. + +And now, on this particular afternoon, when nearly everyone had left the +bank and Mr. Brunt, to whom he was specially attached, was working later +than usual, there was the fruit of the money tree piled up on the +ground. Mr. Brunt had gone to the other end of the main office, and +would return presently to stow these piles of bills in the safe. These +bills were money. Teddy had never consciously dwelt on that fact before. +He had been in this same situation a thousand times, when he had nothing +to do but put out his hands and stuff his pockets with food and fuel and +gas and the interest on the mortgage, and all the other things of which +there was such a lack at home, and had never considered that the needed +things were here. + +He remembered that as a child in Nova Scotia he would occasionally swipe +an apple from a cart-load, knowing that the owner couldn't miss it, and +had the same sensation now. Here were the piles of bills, all arranged +in rows according to their values--a pile of hundreds, a pile of +fifties, a pile of twenties, and so on down. Mr. Brunt would come back, +as he had done at other times, and put them away without counting them. +Having counted them already, he would accept this reckoning for the day. +He, Teddy, was left there to see that nothing happened to this treasure. + +He was never able to tell how it came about, but without seemingly being +able to control the action of his hand he had slipped a twenty-dollar +bill from the top of the pile into his own pocket. It was an instant's +weakness, followed the next instant by repentance. Teddy knew what theft +was. He had not, through his father, had so much to do with banks +without being fully aware of the sure and pitiless punishment meted out +to it. He didn't mean to steal. He was horror-stricken at the act. Quick +as a flash his hand went into his pocket again--but Mr. Brunt was back. +The thing that could have been done at once had to be deferred. + +Looking for a chance to drop the bill to the floor and make restitution +by picking it up, it was annoying that Mr. Brunt should give him none. +Mr. Brunt seemed possessed by a demon of speed, so quickly had he locked +all the piles in the safe, and then locked the cage behind him. Teddy +found himself outside with the bill still burning in his pocket. + +Even so there were other possibilities. Going to the washroom, he hung +on there till Mr. Brunt had gone home. The cage was made of open +wire-work. It was a simple thing to slip a bill through one of the +interstices. It would be found next morning on the floor and a fresh +running-over of accounts would show where it belonged. Mr. Brunt would +wonder how he came to be so careless, but with his balance straight he +would be satisfied. + +But as Teddy reached the cage, there was Doolan, the night watchman. +Doolan was an ex-policeman, too old for public office, but equal to +sounding an alarm in case the bank was being robbed. He was a friendly +soul, and in strolling up to Teddy had no motive beyond asking after the +"ould man" and whether or not he had yet found a job. But Teddy +suspected that he was being watched. He didn't know but that Doolan +might have seen the movement of the hand which snatched the bill from +the pile. When he stirred to go homeward, Doolan might clutch him by the +neck. It was a strange, new sensation to feel that within a minute, +within a few seconds, the law might have its grip on him. Having said +good-by to Doolan and turned away, he took the first steps in +expectation of a stern command to come back. + +It was another strange new sensation to be walking the familiar ways of +Broad Street and Wall Street with this strange new consciousness. There +were thousands of bright young men and women streaming to electrics, +subways, and ferries in the first stages of commuting, and among them he +bore a secret mark. Tramping along in the crowd, he felt like a soldier +marching with his comrades to the trenches, but knowing himself picked +for death. Luckily, his folly was not even now beyond reparation. He +would get to the bank early in the morning, discover the cursed bill +lying in some artfully chosen corner of the floor, and restore it to Mr. +Brunt. All the same, it was a relief to get away from the fear of +detection which he felt to be haunting the streets by plunging into the +maw of the subway, where his identity was swallowed up. + + ---- + +At this minute, too, in the studio, Hubert Wray was leaning over Jennie +Follett's shoulder and placing before her a rough pencil sketch. + +"Take it away!" Jennie cried, tearfully. "I don't want to look at it." + +"But, Jennie, I only wish you to see how little it involves." + +It was a drawing of a nude woman, her hair coiled on the top of her +head, sitting very upright in a marble Byzantine chair, her knees +pressed together in the manner of the Egyptian cat-goddess. On a level +with her face and poised on the tips of her fingers, she held a human +skull which she inspected with slanting, mysterious eyes. + +Wray continued to keep the sketch before Jennie, hanging over her +shoulder. He was so close that she felt his breath on her neck. He could +easily have pressed his lips against her amber-colored hair, and Jennie +wished he would. But having long ago made up his mind that she could +best be won by a system of starving out, he refrained from doing it. As, +however, she persisted in brushing the sketch aside, he straightened +himself up. + +"Then, Jennie, I'm afraid I can't use you any more--that is, for the +present. Since you won't do it, I must get some one who will." + +"You could paint another kind of picture," she argued indignantly, "with +me with clothes on." + +"You don't understand. I'm an artist. An artist doesn't paint the +picture he chooses, but the one that's given him to paint." + +"No one gave you this to paint. It isn't a commission. It's just your +own bad mind." + +"I'm not ready to explain what it is. You wouldn't understand. Something +comes to you. You've got to obey it. This is the picture I've seen and +which I'm obliged to do next. And, besides, it isn't a bad mind, Jennie. +The human form is the most--" + +"Oh, you don't have to hand me out any hokum about the human form. It's +all very well in its place. But you fellows are crazy--the way you stick +it up where it doesn't belong. Look at that picture of Sims's you were +all so wild about--three women walking in a field, and not a stitch +between them. Who'd go out like that? There's no sense in it--" + +"It isn't a question of sense, Jennie; it's one of business. If you want +to be a model, you must _be_ a model and meet the demands of the +market." + +She wore the cheap linen suit that had been her best last summer, and +the corresponding hat; but her beauty being of the type which +subordinates externals to itself, she was more than adorable; she was +elegant. With tears still rolling down her cheeks, she pointed at the +sketch Wray held in his hand as he stood before her at a distance. + +"Do you know what my father would do if he thought I was going to be +painted like that? He'd turn me out of doors." + +Wray tossed the sketch on the table. + +"Then, Jennie, there's no use talking of it any more. You're not that +kind of a model, and it's that kind of a model I'm looking for." + +"I'm the kind of model you were looking for when you put that +advertisement in the paper nearly a year ago. I answered it because you +said a pretty girl, not a professional--" + +"Yes; that was a year ago. That's what I wanted then. But now it's +something else. It doesn't follow that because you're satisfied with an +egg for breakfast, that an egg will be enough for every meal all the +rest of your life." + +She looked up reproachfully. + +"Yes; all the rest of your life! That's the way you talk. Nothing will +ever be enough for you all the rest of your life." + +"No, Jennie; nothing--not as far as I see now." + +"And yet you expect me to stake everything--" + +"You must choose your words there, Jennie. I don't _expect_ you to do +anything. There may have been a time when I hoped--but that's all over. +We won't talk of it. You've made up your mind; I must make up mine. +There's nothing between us now but a question of business. I'm looking +for a model who does this kind of thing, and it doesn't suit you to +serve my turn. Well, that settles it, doesn't it? Our little account is +paid up to date, and so--" + +She stumbled to her feet. The only form her resentment took was a +trembling of the lip and the streaming of more tears. + +"But what can I _do_?" + +"Do you mean for a living?" + +As she nodded speechlessly, he smiled, with a faint shrug of the +shoulders. + +"That's not for me to decide, is it, Jennie? Once you've left me--" + +"I'm not leaving you. You're driving me away." + +"Suppose we said that life was separating us? Wouldn't that express it +better? We've--we've liked each other. I've never made any secret of it +on my side--have I, Jennie?--though you're so terribly discreet on +yours. And yet life--" + +"I've only been discreet about one thing." + +"But that one thing is the whole business." + +"And I wouldn't be discreet about that if there was any other way." + +"There's the way I've told you about." + +"Yes; and be left high and dry after two or three years, neither one +thing nor the other." + +"Isn't that looking pretty far ahead?" + +"It's not looking farther ahead than a girl has to. It's easy enough to +talk. There _you'd_ be, able to walk off without a sign on you; whereas +I'd have to lie down and die or--or find some one else." + +"Well, there'd be that possibility, wouldn't there? They're not so +difficult for a pretty girl to find when--" + +She stamped her foot. + +"I hate you!" + +"Oh no, you don't, Jennie. You love me--only, you won't let yourself--" + +"And I never will--never--never--never! Not if I was starving in the +streets--so help me God!" + +She was running toward the model's exit when he called after her. + +"Then you leave me to work with another woman, Jennie--another woman +sitting in your place--another woman--" When she threw him a despairing +glance he snatched the sketch from the table and held it up to her. +"Another woman--dressed like that!" + +But out on the stairs she paused. Anger was giving place to fear. It +was, first of all, a fear of the other woman _dressed like that_, and +then it was a fear not less agonizing of the loss of her six a week. + +Her six a week was all that stood between Jennie and the not very +carefully veiled contempt of the family. In the testing to which the +past half year had subjected them all, Jennie had not made very good. +Six a week had been her measure. For obscure reasons which none of them +could fathom, she had proved incapable of really lucrative work. She had +tried to get employment with other artists who would leave her free for +her hours with Wray, but she had failed. She had failed, too, in stores, +factories, offices, and dressmaking establishments. Perhaps they saw she +was only half hearted in her attempts; perhaps her air of helplessness +told against her. "She was too much like a lady," had been one +employer's verdict, and possibly that was true. Whatever the reason, she +seemed a creature not primarily meant to work, but to be utilized in +some other way. The question was as to that way. "You're splendid to +love," little Gladys had whispered one day, when Jennie was crying to +herself, and much in her recent experience confirmed this opinion. In +her applications for something to do, it had more than once been made +plain to her that money could be made by other means than by punching a +time clock at seven. + +But she couldn't retrace her steps and go back to Wray. She thought of +it. She had chosen to descend by the stairs instead of by the lift which +served the huge studio building, in order to give herself the chance of +changing her mind. She went down a few steps and stood still, then a few +more steps and stood still. If it had been only a question of the money +she might have swallowed her pride and returned to throw herself at his +feet. + +But there was the other woman--_dressed like that_! He had dared to +invoke her. Well, let him invoke her. Let him paint her; let him do +anything he liked. She, Jennie, would break her heart over it; but it +would be easier to break her heart than go back. + +And yet not to go back made her feet like lead as she dragged herself +down the interminable steps. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +"Shall I ever go in or out of this door again?" + +Jennie lingered on the threshold to ask herself this question, and, as +she did so, saw Bob Collingham lift his hat. + +For the time being she had forgotten him. That is, she had a way of +putting him out of her mind except when, as he expressed it to herself, +he came bothering her. Bothering her meant asking her to marry him, +which he had done perhaps twenty times. Each time she refused him she +considered that it was for good. There was a quality in him that raised +her ire--a certainty that, pressed by need, she would one day come to +him. That, Jennie said to herself, would be the last thing! She wouldn't +do it as long as there was any other possibility on earth. In view, +however, of the state of things at home and Wray's cold-bloodedness at +the studio it had sometimes seemed to her of late as if earth would not +afford her any other possibility. + +If she welcomed him now, it was chiefly as a distraction from thoughts +which, were she to keep dwelling on them, would drive her mad. Her +temperament being naturally happy, anguish was the more anguishing for +being so unnatural. The mere necessity of having to strive with Bob +called forth in her that spirit of sex-wrestling which was not so much +second nature in her as it was first. + +She greeted him, therefore, with a sick little smile, and allowed him to +limp along beside her. The studio building was in a street in the +Thirties and east of Lexington Avenue. To take the way by which she +usually went, they sauntered toward the sunset. + +"You're in trouble, Jennie, aren't you?" + +The kindly tone touched her. He was always kind. He was always looking +for little things he could do. It was part of the trouble with him from +her point of view that he was so watchful and overshadowing. He poured +out so much more than her cup was able to receive that he frightened +her. All the same, his sympathy, coming at this minute, started her +tears afresh. + +"Is it things at home?" he persisted, when she didn't respond. + +Thinking this enough for him to know, she admitted that it was. + +"I've got something in my pocket that would--that would help all +that--in the long run." + +From anyone else this would have alarmed her. She would have taken it to +mean money, money which she would in her own way be expected to repay. +As it was she merely turned her swimming eyes toward him in mild +curiosity. + +"Look!" + +Seeing a little white box which could contain nothing but a ring held +between his thumb and forefinger on the edge of his waistcoat pocket, +she flushed with annoyance. + +"I think you'd better go away," she said, coldly, pausing to give him +the chance to take his leave. + +"And chuck you back upon your trouble?" + +The argument was more effective than he knew. Jennie became aware that +even this little bit of drama had put home conditions and Wray's cruelty +a perceptible distance behind her. It was sheer terror at being thrown +on them again that induced her to walk on, tacitly permitting him to +stay with her. + +"You can't be saved from one kind of trouble by getting into another," +she argued, ungraciously. "The fire's not much of a relief from the +frying pan." + +"It is if it doesn't burn you--if it only warms and comforts you and +makes it easier to live." + +"This fire would burn me--to death." + +"Oh no, it wouldn't; because I'd be there. I'd be the stoker, to see +that it was kept in the furnace. The furnace in the house, Jennie, is +like the heart in the body--something out of sight, but hot and glowing, +and cheering everybody up." If she could have listened to such words +from Hubert Wray, she thought, how enraptured she would have been. "Did +you ever hear the story of the guy who gave us fire in the first place?" +Bob continued, as she walked on and said nothing. "You know we didn't +have any fire on earth--at least, that's the tune to which the rig is +sung. The gods had fire in heaven, but men had to shiver." + +"Why didn't they freeze to death?'' + +"They did--in a parable way. It wasn't life they lived; it was a great +big creeping horror on the edge of nothing. Then this old bird--I forget +his name--went up to heaven--" + +"How did he do that?" + +"The story doesn't tell; but up he went, stole the fire, and brought it +down. After that, they were able to open the ball we call +'civilization,' which gives every one a good time." + +"Oh, does it? Much you know!" + +"I know this much, Jennie--that I could give you a good time if you'd +let me." + +"You couldn't give me the good time I want." + +"But I could make you want the good time I'd give you, which would come +to the same thing. I imagine the folks on earth didn't think much of the +fire from heaven--beforehand; but once they'd got it, they knew what it +meant to them. That's the way you'd feel, Jennie, if you married me. You +can't begin to fancy now--" On coming in sight of a line of taxicabs +drawn up before a hotel, he broke off to say, "Do you see those taxis, +Jennie?" + +She replied that she did. + +"Well, one of them may mean a great deal to you and me." + +"Which one of them?" + +"Whichever one we get into." + +"Why should we get into it?" + +"Because"--he tapped the white box in his waistcoat pocket--"this little +thing I've got in here wouldn't do us any good without something else. +We should have to go after it together." + +Her mystified expression told him that she was in the dark. + +"It's something we should have to ask for, and to sign--Robert Bradley +Collingham, bachelor, and Jane Scarborough Follett, spinster--I believe +that's the way it runs." + +"Oh!" The low ejaculation was just enough to show that she understood. + +"Why shouldn't we, Jennie? It wouldn't take half an hour to get there +and back." + +"'Back?'" She was so dazed that she echoed the word more or less +unconsciously. + +They came in sight of a low brown tower at which he pointed with his +stick. "Do you see that church? Well, that church has got a +parson--quite a decent sort for a parson--" + +"How do you know?" + +"Because I talked to him--about half an hour ago. I said that if he was +going to be at home, we might look in on him toward the end of the +afternoon." + +"You had no right to say anything of the kind." + +"I know I hadn't, but I took a chance. Won't you take a chance, too, +Jennie? It would mean the beginning of the end of all your troubles. In +the long run, if not in the short run, I could take them off your +hands." + +That she should be dead to this argument was not in human nature. Her +basic conception of a man was of one who would relieve her of her +burdens. Helplessness was a large part of her appeal. That marriage +meant being taken care of imparted, according to her thinking, its chief +common sense to the institution. She shrank from marrying _just_ to be +taken care of; but if there was no other way, and if in this way she +could bring to the family the stupendous Collingham connection in lieu +of her six a week.... She made up her mind to temporize. + +"What makes you in such an awful hurry? We could do it any other day--" + +"Did you ever see a sick man who wasn't in an awful hurry to get well?" + +"You're not as bad as all that." + +"Listen, Jennie," he said, with an ardor enhanced by her hints at +relenting; "listen, and I'll tell you what I am. I'm like a chap that's +been cut in two, who only lives because he knows the other half will be +joined to him again." + +"That's all very well; but where's the other half?" + +"Here." He touched her lightly on the arm. "You're the other half of me, +Jennie; I'm the other half of you." + +She laughed ruefully. + +"That's news to me." + +"I thought it might be. That's why I'm telling you. You don't suppose +any other fellow could be to you what I'd be, do you?" + +"I don't know what you'd be to me because I've so many other things to +think of first." + +"What sort of things?" + +"What your folks would say, for one." + +He replied, with a shade of embarrassment: "They'd say some pretty mean +things, to begin with." + +"And to end with?" + +"They'd give in. They'd have to. Families always do when you only leave +them Hobson's choice." + +She dropped into the studio idiom. + +"That wouldn't be all pie for me, would it?" + +"Is anything ever all pie? You've got to work for your living in this +old world if you want to eat. I'm ready to work for this, Jennie. I'm +ready to move mountains for it, and, by God! I'm going to move them! But +do you know why?" + +She said, shyly, "I suppose because you like me." + +"I don't know whether I do or not. That's not what I think about first." +Though they had not yet reached the line of taxicabs, he paused to make +an explanation. "Suppose you were inventing a machine and had got it +pretty well fitted together, only that you couldn't make it work. And +suppose, one day, you found the very part that was missing--the thing +that would make it run. You'd know you'd have to have that one thing, +wouldn't you? You'd have to have it--or your life wouldn't be worth +while." + +"I never heard any other man talk like that." + +"Listen, Jennie. There are men and men. They'll go into two big bunches. +To one kind women are like whisky--some better than others, but all +good. If they can't have Mary, Susan'll do, and when they're tired of +Susan they'll run after Ann. That's one kind of fellow, and he's in the +great majority. They're polygamous by nature, those chaps. I suppose the +Lord made them so. Anyhow, as far as I can see--and I've seen pretty +far--they can't help themselves." He drew a long breath. "Then there's +another kind." + +If Jennie listened with attention, it was not because she was interested +in him, but in Hubert Wray. Hubert had more than once said things of the +same kind. He had declared male constancy to be outside the +possibilities of flesh and blood, and, with her preference for cave men, +Jennie had agreed with him. That is, she had agreed with him as to +everyone but himself. Others could take their pleasure where and as they +found it; but she could not conceive of any man loving her, or of +herself loving any man, unless it was for life. On the subject of +constancy or inconstancy, this was her sole reservation. + +"You'll think me an awful chump, Jennie, but I'm that other kind." + +She threw him a sidelong glance of some perplexity. + +"You mean the kind that--" + +"I'm not polygamous," he declared, as one who confessed a criminal +tendency. "There it is, laid out flat. I'm--" He hesitated before using +the term lest she might not understand it. "There's a word for my kind," +he went on, tenderly. "It's monogamous." + +She made a little sound of dismay at the strangeness, it almost seemed +the indecency, of the syllables. + +"Yes; I thought you might never have heard it," he pursued, in the same +tender strain, "but it means the opposite of polygamous. A polygamous +guy wants to marry all the wives he can make love to. A one-wife chap +like me asks for nothing so much as to be true to the girl he loves. I'm +that kind, Jennie." + +To his amazement, and somewhat to his joy, he saw a tear trickle down +her cheek. It was a tear of regret that Hubert couldn't have expressed +himself like this, but Bob thought her touched by his appeal. It +encouraged him to continue with accentuated warmth. + +"You've heard of what they call the battle of the sexes, haven't you?" + +She thought she had. + +"Well, that's what it comes from chiefly--the crowds of polygamous men +and the small number of polygamous women; or else it's the crowds of +monogamous women and the small number of monogamous men. Out of every +hundred men, about ninety are polygamous, and ten want only one woman +for a lifetime. Out of every hundred women, ninety are satisfied to love +one man, and the other ten are rovers. Don't you see what a bad fit it +makes?" + +"Yes; but how do you know I'm not one of the rovers?" + +"You couldn't be, Jennie. Even if I thought you might be, I'd be willing +to take a chance. And the reason I've spun this rigmarole to you is +because, if you don't take me, it'll be ten to one that you'll fall into +the hands of one of the gay ninety who'll make your life a hell. I'd +hate that. God! how I should hate it! Even if I didn't care anything +about you, I should want to marry you, just to save you from some fancy +man who'd think no more of breaking your heart than he would of smashing +an egg-shell." + +As they walked on toward the row of public conveyances, he explained +himself further. On Monday next he might sail for South America. But he +couldn't do this leaving everything at loose ends between them. If she +married him, he could go off with an easy mind, and they could keep +their secret till his return. In the meanwhile he would be able to +supply her with a little cash, not much, he was afraid, as dad kept so +tight a rubber band round the pocketbook. It would, however, be +something, and he would know that she could give up her work at the +studio without danger of starving to death. + +"And you might as well do it first as last, Jennie," he summed up, +"because I mean that you shall do it sometime." + +"And suppose," she objected, "that you came back from South America in +six months' time--and were sorry. Where should I be then?" + +He argued that this was impossible. A monogamous man always knew his +mate as a monogamous bird knew his. It was instinct that told them both, +and instinct never went wrong. + +They reached the row of taxis, and, in spite of the queer looks of the +passers-by, he took her by the hand. + +"Come, Jennie, come!" + +But she hung back. + +"Oh, Bob, how can I? All of a sudden like this!" + +"It might as well be all of a sudden as any other way, since you're my +woman and I'm your man." + +"But I don't believe it." + +"Then I'll prove to you that it's so." + +Though he could not do this, she went with him in the end. She was not +won; she was not more moved by his suit than she had been at other +times; she still shrank from the scar on his brow and the touch of his +tremendous hands. But she was afraid of letting him go, of dropping back +into the horror of no lover in the studio and no money to bring home. To +do this thing would save her from that emptiness, even if it led to +something worse. Worse would be easier to bear than returning to nothing +but a void; and so slowly, reluctantly, with anguish in her heart, she +let herself be helped into the shabby vehicle. + + ---- + +An hour or so later, Teddy reached home. He arrived breathless, because +he had run nearly all the way from the street-car. In the empty spaces +of Indiana Avenue he felt himself conspicuous. He knew it was fancy, +that no hint of his folly could have come to this quiet suburb, and that +his theft could not possibly be discovered as yet, even by those most +concerned. But he was not used to a guilty conscience. Already in +imagination he saw himself tried, sentenced, and serving a long sentence +at Bitterwell, of which he had once seen the grim gray walls. + +"God! I'd shoot myself first!" was his comment to himself, as he hurried +past the trim grassplots where care-free men in shirt sleeves were +watering their bits of lawn. + +It was Pansy who first knew that something was amiss. At sound of his +hand on the door knob she had come scampering, with little silvery +yelps, and had suddenly been checked by the atmosphere he threw out. +Pansy knew what wrongdoing was; she knew the pangs of remorse. She had +once run away from being shut up in the coalbin, her fate when the +family went to the movies, and had been lost for half a day. The agony +of being adrift and the joy of seeing Gussie come whistling and calling +down the Palisade Walk formed the great central escapade in Pansy's +memory. For days afterward, whenever the family spoke of it, she would +stand with forepaws planted apart, and head hanging dejectedly, aware +that no terms could be scathing enough fully to cover her guilt. + +And here was Teddy in the same state of mind. Pansy had learned that the +great race could suffer; but she hadn't supposed that it could get into +scrapes like herself. All she could do on second thoughts was to creep +forward timidly, raise herself on her hind legs, with her paws against +his shin, and tell him that whatever the trouble was she had been +through it all. + +He paid her no attention because, as he looked into the living room, +Gladys was seated at a table, crying, her hands covering her face. At +the same time Gussie was peacocking up and down the room, saying things +to her little sister that were apparently not comforting. Now that +Gussie, at Madame Corinne's request, had "put up" her hair, her great +beauty was apparent. Her face had not the guileless purity of Jennie's, +but it had more intellectual vigor and much more fire. + +Gladys was Teddy's pet, as she was her father's. Of the three girls, she +was the plain one, a little red-haired, snub-nosed thing, with some +resemblance to Pansy, and a heart of gold. Teddy went over and laid his +hand on her fiery crown. + +"Say, poor little kiddie, what's the matter?" + +"It's my feet," Gladys moaned. + +"And she thinks that learning the millinery at three-fifty per is all +jazz and cat-step," Gussie declared, grandly. "Well, let her try it and +see. She's welcome. My soul and body! Corinne would blow her across the +river when she got into a temper. I say that if you're a cash girl +you've got to take the drawbacks of a cash girl, and what's the use of +kicking? If you're on your feet, you're on your feet. Rub 'em with oil +and buck up. That's what I say." + +"It's all very well for you to talk, spit-cat," Gladys retorted. "All +you've got to do is to play with ribbons as if you were dressing a doll. +If you had to run like Pansy every time some stuck-up thing calls, +'_Ca-ash!_'--" + +Gussie undulated her person and her outstretched arms in sheer joy of +the dancing step as she strutted up and down. + +"That's right, old girl. Blame it on me. I'm always the one that's in +the wrong in this house. If Master Teddy lets a glass fall and breaks +it, as he did last night, I pushed it out of his hand on purpose, though +I'm in the next room. All the same, I say, 'Buck up,' and I don't care +who says different. Sniffing won't cure your feet or give you a brother +like Fred Inglis who can pay for a woman to do all the heavy work, and +his mother hardly lifting a hand." + +Teddy passed on to the kitchen to see if his mother was there. + +She was seated at a table with a ham bone before her, and from it was +paring the last rags of the meat. He tried to take his old-time tone of +gayety. + +"Hello, ma! At it again? What are you giving us for supper? Something +good, I'll bet." + +Lizzie went on working without lifting her eyes. She didn't even smile. +Teddy sensed something new in the way of care, as Pansy had sensed it in +him. He stood at a little distance, waiting for the look that had never +failed to welcome him, but which this time didn't come. + +"What's the matter, ma? Has anything gone wrong?" + +Putting down the ham, Lizzie raised her eyes, though with no light in +them. + +"It's nothing so very wrong, dear, but I haven't told your sisters +because it's no use to worry them if--" + +"What is it, ma? Out with it." + +She told him. If it was necessary to go without a hot meal between +Wednesday and Saturday, of course it could be done; but even on Saturday +the gas people would demand fifteen dollars on account before the gas +would be turned on again. There were just two possibilities: The father +might come home with the news that he had found a job, or Teddy might +have--she didn't believe it, but he had talked of saving for a new suit +of clothes--Teddy might have fifteen dollars laid away. + +He turned his back and walked out of the kitchen. He did it so +significantly that it seemed to the mother there could be only one +meaning to the act. He had saved the money and resented being robbed of +it. She knew he was something of a coxcomb, and had always been proud +that he could look so neat. He had only two suits, a common one and a +best one, but even the common one was as brushed and pressed and stylish +as if he had a valet. Nevertheless, his great activity and his love of +rough-and-tumble skylarking made him hard on clothes in the sense of +wear, and the common one was growing shiny at the seams and thin where +there was most attrition. A new suit was an urgent necessity; so that if +he had a few dollars put away toward getting it, it would be no wonder +if it hurt him to be asked to give them up. + +But Teddy had no few dollars put away. When the fund for the new suit +could be counted otherwise than in pennies, some special need had always +swept it into the family treasury. Teddy had let it go without a sigh. +He would have let it go without a sigh to-day, only that he had nothing +saved. Being naturally of a loving, care-taking disposition, it meant +more to him that Gussie or Gladys should have a new pair of shoes than +that he should be able to emulate Fred Inglis in ordering a suit at +Love's. + +Having left the kitchen, he did not go farther than the living room, +where, Gussie having taken herself upstairs, Gladys was drying her eyes. +He merely walked to the end of the room, his hands in his pockets, as he +stared above one of the hydrangea trees into Indiana Avenue. The windows +being open, the voices of playing children mingled with the even-song of +birds. To Teddy, there was mockery in these cheerful sounds. There was +mockery in the westering May sunshine, mockery in the groups of girls, +bareheaded and arm in arm, as they strolled toward Palisade Walk; +mockery in the ruddy-faced men who watered their shrubs and grass; +mockery in the aproned women who came to windows or doors in the +intervals of preparing supper. It all spoke of a homey comfort and +content, with no bluff behind it. In the Follett house all was +bluff--and misery. + +Somehow, for reasons he couldn't fathom, the cutting off of the gas from +the range seemed the last humiliation. In the matter of food, if one +thing was too dear, you could eat another. So it was in the whole round +of essentials in living. You could get a substitute or you could go +without. But for heat there was no substitute, and you couldn't go +without it. It ranked with clothes and shelter as a necessity even among +savages. And yet here they were, a civilized family, living in a +civilized house, in a suburb of New York, deprived of what even Micmacs +could have at will. It was one of the happenings that could never have +been foreseen as possibilities. + +His hands being in his pockets, Teddy fingered the twenty-dollar bill. +He did this unconsciously, merely because it was there. It did occur to +him to wish it was his own; but his wishes went no farther. + +They had gone no farther when he swung on his heel to go back to the +kitchen. He must tell his mother that he didn't have fifteen dollars put +away. He hadn't done so at once merely because his emotions had been too +strong for him. + +He pulled his burly figure down the length of the room as one who has to +drag himself along. If he had only been Fred Inglis, he would have +handed his mother a sheaf of bills with instructions to buy all she +wanted. Why couldn't he, Teddy Follett, do the same? He was, as Gussie +phrased it, a great big fellow of twenty-one--and his value was only +eighteen per. He had proved that to his own satisfaction, for in +secretly trying to unearth a better place he had been offered less than +he got at Collingham & Law's. + +What were the shackles that bound him? Were they of his own creation, or +were they forced on him by the world outside? He was as industrious as +his father had been, and, except for a tendency to do his work with a +broad grin, just as wholehearted. If good intentions had commercial +value, both father and son should have been rated high; but here was his +father a bit of old junk, while he himself, having reached man's estate, +having served his country, having tacitly offered himself to the limit +of his strength, was rewarded with a wage on which he could hardly live, +to say nothing of helping others live. + +Madly, wildly, these thoughts churned in his mind as he lurched down the +room toward the kitchen, while Pansy watched him with a look into which +she was putting all her soul. + +He knew what he would say. He would say: "Ma, it's no go. I haven't a +red cent. We've got to eat cold and wash cold till Saturday, anyhow. +We'll not look farther ahead than that. When Saturday comes, we'll see." + +But, on the threshold of the kitchen, he saw something which brought a +new sensation. In free fights while in the navy he had thought he had +seen red; but he had never seen red like this. He had never supposed it +possible that this torrent of wrath, tenderness, and pity should rise +within himself, a fountain spouting at the same time both sweet water +and bitter. + +His mother was seated at the table, crying. The ham bone was before her, +the rags of meat on the plate, and the knife on top of them. But she, +like Gladys a few minutes previously, had covered her face with her +hands, while her shoulders rocked. + +In all his twenty-one years Teddy had never seen his mother cry. He had +cried; the girls had cried; his father had very nearly cried; but his +mother never. The strong spirit had grieved in strong ways, but not in +this way. Now it seemed as if all the griefs she had laid up since the +days when she was Lizzie Scarborough had heaped themselves to the point +at which these strange, harsh, unnatural tears were their only +assuagement. + +Teddy was down on his knees beside her, his arm flung round her neck. + +"Ma! Good old ma! Dear old ma! Don't cry! For God's sake don't cry! Stop +_crying_, ma!" he shouted, in an imploring passion as strange, harsh, +and unnatural as her own. "Here's the money I had saved for my new +clothes. Take it and go and pay something on the gas bill. There! There! +Stop! For God's sake! For your little boy's sake! I love you, ma. Only +stop! There! That's better! Calm down, ma! Everything will be all right, +and I'll--I'll get the new clothes by and by." + +But in his heart he was saying, "To hell with Collingham & Law's!" as he +laid the bill before her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Jennie cried herself to sleep that Wednesday night, and, in the morning, +cried herself awake. She was in no doubt as to the motive of her tears; +she was sorry for having put a gulf between her and the man she loved by +marrying one she didn't care for. + +Why she didn't care for him was beyond her power of analysis. He was +good and kind and tender; he was rocklike and steady and strong. In a +forceful way he was almost handsome, and some day he would be rich. But +there was the fact that, her heart being given to the one man, her +nerves shuddered at the other. The explanation she used to give, that +the lividness of the scar on his forehead frightened her, was no longer +tenable, since the mark tended to fade out. The other infirmity, his +limp, was also less conspicuous, for, though he would never walk as if +his foot had not been crushed, he walked as well as many other men. It +wasn't these peculiarities; it wasn't any one thing in itself; it was +simply that she didn't love him and never would. + +Whereas, she did love another man. She loved his violet eyes, his brown +mustache, his flashing teeth, his selfishness, his cruelty. She loved +his system of starving her out, his habit of keeping her in anguish. Too +much reasonableness was hard for her to assimilate, like too much water +to a portulaca. + +And Bob had been so reasonable. He had tried to explain himself. He had +used words that scared, that shocked her. Polygamous! Monogamous! The +very sounds suggested anatomy or impropriety. + +Nevertheless, she could have pardoned this language as an eccentricity +if, in the dimness of the parson's hall, he hadn't taken her in his arms +and kissed her. This possibility was something she forgot when she +followed him up the rectory's brownstone steps. For the inadvertence she +blamed herself the more, since, throughout the winter, she had never +once lost sight of it. Whenever he had proposed to her, the advantages +of marrying so much money had been offset by her terror at his "pawing +her about." With no high-flown ideas as to virtue, Jennie would have +fought like a wildcat for her virginity of mind and body till ready of +her own free will to give them up. And here she had sold herself to Bob +Collingham, a man whose touch made her shrink. + +"I can't live with you!" she had cried, as she tore herself from his +embrace. + +And poor Bob had been reasonable again. + +"Of course not, Jennie darling--not yet. When I come back--" + +She hadn't let him finish. She had dashed through the door and down the +steps, so that he had some ado to keep up with her.... Even then, if he +had only dragged her away and been a cave man.... + +And the evening at home had been one of the oddest she had ever spent +under her father's roof. Everyone was so queer--or else she was queer +herself. Gussie and Gladys, reconciled after their squabble, had both +been in high spirits, and Teddy almost hysterical. He gave imitations of +the men with whom he worked most closely at the bank, of Fred Inglis, of +Mrs. Inglis, of Dolly, Addie, and Sadie Inglis, which made everyone feel +that a great actor was being lost to the stage; but on top of these +exhibitions he would fall into spells of profound reverie. The father +had been apathetic, but he was always apathetic now; the mother, on the +other hand, more serene than usual. More than usual, too, her eyes +applauded Teddy's high spirits with a quiet, adoring smile. Altogether, +the supper had been a merry one, and yet, to Jennie's thinking, merry +with a mysterious note in the merriment--a note which perhaps only +Pansy's intuitions could have really understood. + +But sitting on the edge of her bed in the morning, she saw a ray of +hope. There was divorce. Marriage wasn't the irreparable thing which +their family traditions assumed it to be. As a tolerably diligent reader +of the personal items in the papers, Jennie had more than once read of +divorces granted to young couples who had parted at the church door. +Naturally, she shrank from the fuss it would involve, but better the +fuss than.... + +Having got up, for the reason that she couldn't stay in bed, she dressed +slowly, because none of the family was as yet astir. She would surprise +her mother by lighting the gas range and making the coffee before anyone +came down. Thus it happened that she saw the postman crossing the street +with a letter in his hand. Though letters were not rare in the family, +they were rare enough to make the arrival of one an incident. She went +to the door to take it from the postman's hand. Seeing it addressed to +Miss Follett and bearing the postmark "Marillo," her knees trembled +under her. + +Having read what Mrs. Collingham had written, Jennie's first thought was +that her early rising enabled her to keep this missive secret. What it +could portend was beyond her surmise. It was not unfriendly, but neither +was it cordial. It took the guarded tone, she thought, of a woman who +meant to see her face to face before being willing to commit herself. As +success on meeting people face to face had mostly been Jennie's portion, +she was not so much afraid of the test as of what it might bring +afterward. + +What it might bring afterward was the recognition of her marriage and +her translation into a rich family. This would mean the end of her +father's and mother's material cares, Teddy's advancement at the bank, +and brilliant careers for Gussie and Gladys in New York social life. +Jennie could think of at least half a dozen picture plays in which the +sacrifice of some lovely, virtuous girl had done as much as this for her +relatives. + +So, all that day, sacrifice was much in her mind. Against a vague +background of grandeur, it had the same emotional effect as of passion +sung to the accompaniment of a great orchestra. To see herself with a +limousine at her command, and the family established in a modest villa +somewhere near Marillo Park, if not quite within it, enabled her +mentally to face another embrace from Bob in the spirit of an +early--Christian maiden thinking of the lions awaiting her in the arena. +It would be terrible--but it could be met. + +The vision of the limousine at her command seemed to have come partly +true as a trim chauffeur stepped up to her in the station at Marillo, +touching his cap and asking if he spoke to Miss Follett. He touched his +cap again when he closed the door on her, and the car tooled away along +a road which bore the same relation to the roads with which Jennie was +familiar as a glorified spirit to a living man. + +The park was not so much a park as it was a country. It had hills, +valleys, landscapes, lakes, and what seemed to Jennie immense estates +for which there was plenty of room. There were houses as big as hotels +and much more beautiful. Trees, flowers, lawns, terraces, fountains, +tennis courts, dogs, horses, and motor cars were as silver in the +building of the Temple of Jerusalem--nothing accounted of. Jennie had +seen high life as lived by the motion-picture heroine, but she had not +believed that even wealth could buy such a Garden of Eden as this. +Expecting to reach Collingham Lodge a few minutes after passing the +grille, she had gone on and on, over roads that branched, and then +branched, and then branched again, like the veinings of a leaf. + +After descending at the white-columned portico, she went up the steps in +a state bordering on trance. She knew what to do much as Elijah, having +come by the chariot of fire to another plane of life, must have known +what to do when required to get out and go onward. Since a man in livery +opened a door of wrought-iron tracery over glass, she had no choice but +to pass through. + +It is possible that Max, by his supersenses, knew that she belonged to +his master, for, springing toward her, he nosed her hand. It was, as she +put it to herself, the only human touch in the first stages of her +welcome. Thenceforward, during all the forty or fifty minutes of her +stay, he kept close to her, either on foot or crouched beside her chair, +till a curious thing happened when she regained the car. + +I have said in the first stages of her welcome, for as soon as she +entered the hall she heard a cheery voice. + +"Oh, so it's you, Miss Follett! So glad you've come. It's really too bad +to bring you so far--only, it seemed to me we might be cozier here than +if I went up to town." + +Adown the golden space which seemed to Jennie much too majestic for +anyone's private dwelling, a brisk figure moved, with hand outstretched. +A few seconds later Jennie was looking into eyes such as she didn't +suppose existed in human faces. Beauty, dignity, poise, white hair +dressed to perfection, and clothes such as Jennie had never seen off the +stage--and rarely on it--were all subordinated to a hearty, kindly, +womanly greeting before which they sank out of sight. Overpowered as she +was by the material costliness of all she saw, the girl was well-nigh +crushed by this unaffected affability. Like the Queen of Sheba at the +court of Solomon, to be Scriptural again, there was no more spirit left +in her. + +Mrs. Collingham went on talking as, side by side, they walked slowly up +the strip of red carpet into the cool recesses of the house. + +"I hope you didn't find the train too stuffy. It's too bad they won't +give us a parlor car on the locals. For the last three or four years we +only have a parlor car on what they call the 'husbands' trains'--one in +the morning and one in the afternoon, and, my dear, they make us pay for +it as if--" + +A toss of the hands proved to Jennie that Mrs. Collingham knew the +difference between cheap and dear, which again took her by surprise. + +They passed through the terrace drawing-room, which Jennie couldn't +notice because she trod on air, and came out to the flagged pavement. +Even here, Mrs. Collingham didn't pause, but, leading the way to the end +of it, she went round a corner to the northern and more private side of +the house, which looked into a little wood. + +"Mr. Collingham's at home--just driven down--but I'm not going to have +him here. Men are such a nuisance when women talk about intimate things, +don't you think? They make such mountains of molehills. It's just as +when you have a cry. They think your heart must be breaking, and never +seem to understand that it gives you some relief." + +Jennie was still more astounded. That the mistress of Collingham Lodge, +a great figure in Marillo Park, and therefore high up in the peerage of +the United States, could have the same feelings as herself seemed the +touch of nature that makes the whole world kin to a degree she had put +beyond the limits of the human heart. + +They came to a construction like a giant birdcage--a room out of doors, +yet sheltered from noisome insects like their own screened piazza, +furnished with an outdoor-indoor luxury. + +"We don't have many mosquitoes at Marillo," Mrs. Collingham explained, +as she led the way in, "but in spring they can be troublesome. So we'll +have our tea here. Gossip will bring it presently. Where will you sit? I +think you'll like that chair. There! What about a cushion? Oh, I'm sure +you don't need it at your age, but, still, one likes to be comfortable. +No, Max; stay out. Well, if you must come in, come in. He seems to like +you," she chatted on. "He's Bob's dog, and I suppose he takes to Bob's +friends." + +Rendered speechless by this frank reference to the man who was the bond +between them, there was, fortunately, no immediate need for Jennie to +speak, since Gossip appeared in the doorway pushing the tea equipage. It +was a little table on wheels, and on it Jennie noticed, in a general +way, every magnificent detail--the silver tray, the silver kettle, the +silver teapot, the silver tongs, the silver spoons. "And all of them +solid," she said to herself, awesomely. She regretted that she wouldn't +be at liberty to recount these marvels at home. At home, they thought +her merely at the studio, while she had been borne away through the air +as by a witch on a broomstick. + +Jennie would have said that Mrs. Collingham had hardly looked at her, +but then, she reflected, every woman knew how little _looking_ you had +to do to grasp the details of another woman's personality. You took them +all in at a glance, as if you brought seven or eight senses into play. +Each time her hostess, now settled behind the tea table, lifted her fine +eyes, Jennie was sure they "got" her, like a camera. + +"You pose, don't you?" The words came out in a casual, friendly tone, as +she busied herself with the spirit lamp. "That must be so interesting. I +often wonder, when I'm in the big galleries, what the immortal women +would have said had they known how their features would go down through +the ages. Take Dorotea Nachtigal, for instance, the original of +Holbein's 'Meyer Madonna' in Darmstadt--the most wonderful of all the +Madonnas, I always say--and how queer I suppose she would have felt if +she'd known that we should be adoring her when she's no more than a +handful of dust. Or the model who posed for the Madonna di San Sisto! Or +the young things who sat to Greuze! Did you ever think of them?" + +Jennie saw how Bob could have come by words like "polygamous" and +"monogamous." People at Marillo Park spoke a language of their +own--"English with frills on it," was the way she put it to herself. +From the intonation, she was able to frame her answer in the negative, +while, once more, the superb eyes, which were oddly like Bob's little +steely ones, were lifted on her with a smile. + +"You know, I should think people would be crazy to paint you. How do you +like your tea? Sugar? Cream? One lump? Two lumps?" Having flung out +answers at random, Jennie leaned forward to take her cup, while the +kindly voice ran on: "Just as you sit there you're a picture. Funny I +should have given you a tan-colored cushion, because it tones in +exactly." + +Jennie explained that the various shades of brown and some of the deeper +ones of red were among her favorites. + +"Because they go so well with your hair," her hostess said, +comprehendingly, and studying her now more frankly. "My dear, you've got +the most lovely hair! It isn't auburn; it isn't coppery; it isn't red. +It's--what is it? Oh, I see! It's amber--it's the extraordinary shade +Romney gets into some of his portraits of Lady Hamilton. You see it in +the one in the Frick gallery, if I remember rightly. You must look the +next time you're there." + +Jennie tried to stammer that she would, only that her syllables ran into +one another and became incoherent. + +"But Romney couldn't paint _you_," Mrs. Collingham declared, +enthusiastically, putting her cup to her lips. "He's too Georgian. +You're the twentieth century. You're the perfect spirit of the +age--restless, rebellious, wistful, and delicate all at once. Girls +nowadays remind me of exquisite fragile things like the spire of the +Sainte Chapelle, only built of steel. You've got the steel look--all +slender and unbendable. It's curious that--the way women look like the +ages in which they're born. You've only to go through a portrait +collection to see that it's so. Take the Stuart women, for instance--the +Vandyke and Lely women--great saucer-eyed things, with sensual lips and +breasts. And then the Holbein women, so terribly got up in their stiff +Sunday clothes, which they must have hurried to put into their cedar +chests the minute they got home from mass. But they belong to their +time, don't you think?" + +Jennie could only say she did think, vowing in her heart that the next +day would see her going round the Metropolitan Museum with a catalogue. + +"But you! Hubert Wray says he's done a wonderful study of you, and I'm +crazy to see it. The only thing I don't like from his description is +that he's got you in a Greek dress and attitude, and _I_ think, now that +I've seen you, that the day after to-morrow is your style. What do you +say yourself?" + +"I don't know about the day after to-morrow; I'm so busy with to-day." + +Mrs. Collingham took this with a pleasant little laugh. + +"You clever thing! You won't give yourself away." She mused a few +seconds, a smile on her lips, and then said, with a sudden lifting of +the eyes, "What do you think of Bob?" + +The girl could only stammer: + +"Think of him--in what way?" + +"Do you think he looks like me?" + +In this rapid, unexpected shifting of the ground, Jennie was like a +giddy person trying to keep her head. + +"Well, yes--in a way; only--" + +Mrs. Collingham laughed again. + +"I see that, too. He does. I can't deny it. Often when I look at him, I +see myself, only--you'll laugh, I know--only myself as I'd be reflected +in the back of a silver spoon. That's the trouble with Bob--he's so +unformed. You must have noticed it. I suppose it's the war; and yet I +don't know. He's always been like that--a dear fellow, but no more than +half grown. I dare say that by the time he's fifty he'll be something +like a man." + +As there seemed to be no absolute need for a response to this, Jennie +waited for more. It came, after another little spell of musing. + +"He's talked to me so much about you all through the winter. That's why +I asked you to come down. Mr. Collingham and I feel so tremendously +indebted to you for the way you've acted." + +Jennie could only repeat feebly, "The way I've acted?" + +"I mean the way you've understood him. Almost any other girl--yes, girls +right here in Marillo Park--would have taken him at his word." Jennie's +lips were parted, but unable to frame a question. Mrs. Collingham eyed +the spirit lamp. "All the same, that doesn't excuse _him_. Even a fellow +who isn't half grown should have more sense than to make love to every +girl he spends an hour with. One of these days, some girl will catch +him, and then he'll be sorry. That's why we've been so thankful for the +kind of influence you've had over him, and why my husband and I thought +we'd like to do something--well, something a little audacious." + +Jennie was twisting her fingers and untwisting them, but luckily her +hostess, by keeping her eyes on the spirit lamp, didn't notice this sign +of nervousness. Once more she spoke, with a musing half smile. + +"We--we see a good deal of some one else who keeps talking about you; +and--you won't mind, will you?--of course we've drawn our conclusions. +We couldn't help that--could we?--when they were staring us in the +face." + +"Do you mean Mr. Wray?" Jennie asked, with the point-blank helplessness +of one who doesn't know how to hedge. + +"Oh, I didn't use the name, now did I? And, as I've said, what we've +seen we've seen, and we couldn't help it. But, of course, if it hadn't +been for Bob, we shouldn't have seen so quickly." + +"But he doesn't know?" Jennie cried, more as query than as affirmation. + +"No; I suppose he doesn't. I only mean that as you refused Bob so many +times--he told me that--we naturally thought there must be some one +else, and when everything pointed that way and Hubert talked of you so +much--" She kept this line of reasoning suspended while once more she +shifted her ground suddenly. "I wonder if you've ever realized how hard +it is to show your gratitude toward people to whom you truly and deeply +feel grateful?" + +Jennie mumbled something to the effect that she had never been in that +situation. + +"Well, it _is_ a situation. People are so queer and proud and +_difficile_. I suppose it's we older people who run up oftenest against +that; but if Mr. Collingham and I could only do for people the things we +_might_ do, and which they won't let us do--" + +Once more the idea was suspended to give Jennie time to take in the fact +that a good thing was coming her way; but all she could manage was to +stare with frightened, fascinated eyes and no power of thought. + +"Do you know, my dear," the artless voice ran on, "now that I'm face to +face with you, I'm really afraid? I told my husband that, if he'd leave +us alone together, I shouldn't be--and, after all, I am." She leaned +forward confidentially. "How frank would you let me be? How much would +you be willing for me to say?" + +But before the girl could invent a reply the voice kept up its even, +caressing measure. + +"_I_ know how things are with you--at least, I think I do. I've been +young, my dear. I know what it is to be in love. You're coloring, but +you needn't do it--not with me. You're very _much_ in love, aren't you?" + +Jennie bowed her head to hide her tears. She hadn't meant to admit how +much in love she was, but this sympathy unnerved her. + +"You do love Hubert, don't you?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"And that's why you told Bob you couldn't marry him?" + +"That's one of the reasons, but--" + +"One of the reasons will do, my dear. You don't know how much I feel +with you and for you. I could tell you a little story about myself when +I was your age--but, then, old love tales are like dried flowers, +they've lost their scent and color. Mr. Collingham and I are very fond +of Hubert, and, of course, he doesn't make enough to marry on as things +are now. He has a little something, I suppose, and, with the work he's +doing, the future is secure. You'll find, one day, that he'll be +painting you as Andrea del Sarto painted Lucrezia, and Rembrandt +Saskia--their wives, you know--" + +"Oh, but, Mrs. Collingham--" + +"There, there, my dear! I'm not going to say anything more about that. I +know Hubert and what he wants, and so my husband and I thought that if +we could show our gratitude to you and make things easier for him--" + +"Oh, but you couldn't!" + +"We couldn't unless you helped us. That goes without saying, of course. +But we hoped you would. You see, when people have so much--not that +we're so tremendously rich, but when they have enough--and when they +know as we do what struggle is--and there's been anyone whom they admire +as we admire you, after all you've done for Bob--we thought that if we +could give you a little present--a wedding present it would be--only +just a little in anticipation--we thought five thousand dollars--" + +She ceased suddenly because Jennie appeared as one transfixed. She sat +erect; but the life seemed to have gone out of her. + +Mrs. Collingham was prepared for this; she had discounted it in advance. +"She's playing for more," she said to herself. Luckily, she had named +her minimum only, and had arranged with her husband for a maximum. The +maximum was all the same to her so long as she saved Bob. Having given +Jennie credit for seeing through the game all along--such girls were +quick and astute--she had expected that the first figure of the +"present" would meet with just this reception. + +But Jennie was saying to herself, "Oh, if this kind offer had only come +yesterday!" Five thousand dollars was a sum of which she could not see +the spending limitations. It meant all of which the family had need and +that she herself had ever coveted. With five thousand dollars, she could +not only have put her father on his feet, but have come before Hubert as +an heiress. + +"If you don't think it enough," Mrs. Collingham said, at last, with a +shade of coldness in her tone, "I should be willing to make it seven--or +ten. Perhaps we'd better say ten at once, and end the discussion. My +husband's willing to make it ten, but I don't think he'd give more. Our +son is very dear to us"--the realities seeped through in spite of her +attempts at comedy--"and, oh, Miss Follett, if you'll only help us to +keep him for ourselves as you've helped us already--" + +Jennie staggered to her feet. Her arms hung lax at her sides. Ten +thousand dollars! The sum was fabulous! It would have meant all cares +lifted from the home--and Hubert! She was hardly aware of speaking as +she said: + +"Oh, Mrs. Collingham, I can't take your money. I wish I could. My God! +how I wish I could! But--but--" + +"But, for goodness' sake, child, why can't you?" + +"Because--oh, because--I'm married to Bob already." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +It was one of those occasions when the auditory nerve seems to connect +imperfectly with the brain. Mrs. Collingham placed her cup on the table +and leaned forward, puzzled, tense. + +"What did you say? Sit down. Tell me that again." + +Jennie collapsed against the tan cushion of the chair, and repeated her +confession. Her hostess's brows knitted painfully. + +"But I don't understand. When did you marry him?" + +The girl explained that it had been on the previous afternoon. + +"But--but--you said just now that you were in love with some one else." + +"So I am--only--only, Bob made me." + +"Made you what?" + +"Made me go and get a license and marry him. He said"--her lips and +tongue were so parched that it was hard to form the words--"he said he +was going away in a few days to South America, and that he couldn't go +unless he knew I was his wife. I begged him to let me off, but he--he +wouldn't. Oh, Mrs. Collingham, what am I to do?" + +The appeal helped Junia to rally her stricken powers. It enabled her to +say inwardly: "I must act through this girl herself. If I estrange her, +I may lose my son." A flash of the lioness wrath with which she trembled +might lead to an irretrievably false step. So she made her tone kindly, +sympathetic, almost affectionate. + +"And Bob--does he know that--that you care for some one else?" + +"He never asked me." + +"But don't you think you should have told him?" + +"That's not so very easy when--" + +"But there was some sort of understanding between you and Hubert, wasn't +there?" + +Jennie's only answer to this was to clasp her hands and say, + +"Oh, Mrs. Collingham, how do people get divorces?" + +This being more than Junia had hoped for, she tried to use the opening +to the best of her ability. + +"They--they do something that--that makes the other person want to be +free." Trying to explain this further, she ran the risk of citing a case +perhaps too close to the point. "For instance, if my husband wanted to +be free, he'd do something that would make me willing to divorce him." + +"And would you?" + +"You see, I'm taking the case of _his_ wanting to be free. In that +situation, _he's_ the one who would do the thing. If I wanted to be +free, I suppose--I suppose I should do it." + +"So that if I wanted to be free, it would be up to me to do the thing +rather than up to Bob." + +A moral issue being here at stake, Junia was obliged, in the expressive +American phrase, "to sidestep," though she supposed that the suggestion +in the air was of no more than Jennie had done already. As an artist's +model, it would be part of her professional occupation. + +"I'm not giving you advice, my dear; I'm only trying to answer your +question. I'm so sorry for you that I'd do anything I could to help you +unravel the tangle." + +"Then you think there are ways of unraveling it?" + +"Oh, certainly, if you were willing to--" + +"To what, Mrs. Collingham. There's almost nothing I wouldn't do--to get +us all out--when you've been so kind to me." + +Having a conscience of her own, Junia continued to "sidestep." + +"My dear, I can't tell you what to do. I'm not sure that I know--very +well. You see, it's your trouble, and you must get out of it. I'll help +you. I _will_ do that. In every way I can I'll make it easy for you. But +I couldn't advise--or--or put anything in your way that might be +considered as--as temptation." + +But conscientious scruples were not in Jennie's line. When eager to +reach a point, she went to it straight. + +"If Bob came back from South America and found I was living with Hubert, +wouldn't he have to divorce me then?" + +Junia rose in the agitation of one unused to plain talk, and shocked by +it. + +"Jennie--your name _is_ Jennie, isn't it?--I must go and speak to Mr. +Collingham. You'll stay here--won't you?--till I come back. I may have +something then rather important to say." + +The girl sat still, looking up adoringly. + +"Are you going to tell him?" + +"No; I think not. But there's something I want to ask him. I don't think +that either you or I had better say anything to anyone. What do you +think?" + +Jennie shook her head. + +"I don't want to. I wish nobody would ever have to know." + +"I wish Hubert didn't have to know. Perhaps he won't; and yet--Let us +think." She dropped into a chair nearer to Jennie than the one behind +the tea table. "One thing I _must_ ask you. What happened after you and +Bob went through that ceremony yesterday afternoon?" + +"Nothing happened. He motored back to his friends on Long Island and I +took the ferry and went home. He said he'd see me on Saturday to say +good-by." + +"Where?" + +"Oh, I don't know. In Central Park, I expect. He's asked me to meet him +there once or twice already." + +"But I wouldn't go anywhere else with him if I were you--not into a +house, or anything." + +"I won't if he doesn't make me." + +"I'd be firm about that. You see, if you did--well, I'm sure you +understand--it might--it might make it harder for you to find your way +out to where you'd be happy again. Are you sure you see what I mean?" + +"I've had that out with him. He'd said that nothing would happen till he +got back from South America." + +Relieved by this simple statement, Junia went on. + +"And if I were you, I wouldn't say a word to anybody--not even to your +own father and mother. Your mother is living, isn't she? Don't even tell +Bob that you've seen me. Don't tell anyone anything. Let it be your +secret and mine. I want you to feel that I'm your friend and anxious to +help you out of the muddle in which you've tied up your happiness. At +first, when you told me, I thought more of Hubert; but now that we've +talked I'm thinking of you, too, and how much I should like to see +you--" A dim smile conveyed the rest of the thought while she rose +again. "Now I'll go. Don't be alarmed if I'm a little long. Max will +take care of you." + +Left to herself, Jennie's emotions came in waves of conflicting +calculation. Had she only been in love with Bob, and not with Hubert, +all this graciousness would have lapped her round in silk and softness. +Nothing would have been denied her from a limousine to pearls. There +would have been the villa for the family, with Gussie and Gladys turned +into "buds." + +But, as an offset to it, there would be the renunciation. Somehow, since +cutting herself away from Hubert by the ceremony with Bob, he seemed +nearer to her than before. Things she had supposed to be out of the +question now presented themselves as more in the line of those that +could be done. Within twenty-four hours she had lived much; she had +ripened much. Now that she had had this talk with Mrs. Collingham, +Hubert became more definitely an alternative. She could choose him and +let this wealth and beauty go, or she could choose the wealth and beauty +and let him.... + +But at the thought of turning her back on him something seemed to choke +her. To choose what money could buy instead of this great love was +treachery to all she knew as sublime. She clutched herself over the +heart. It was as if she were going to die. Max was so startled that he +sprang upon her with his mighty paws in the roughness of young +consternation. + +On the other hand, home conditions were well-nigh imperative. Love and +Hubert were all very well, but they were part of the world of romance. +The family, with their concrete needs, were actuality. Jennie thought of +each one of them in turn, but of Teddy most of all. Among those of her +own generation, he was her favorite. If she became openly Mrs. Robert +Bradley Collingham, Junior, of Marillo Park, Teddy would go far. He +might have a place like Mr. Brunt's. Only the other day her father had +said of Mr. Brunt, "There's one who don't have any trouble in pickling +down his ten a week." To see Teddy pickling down his ten a week, which +would be more than five hundred dollars in a year, Jennie was ready to +submit to almost anything--even Bob's hands on her person. She might get +used to them, and, if she didn't, why, the daily sacrifice would be not +without its reward. + +She had reached something like this decision when Mrs. Collingham came +back. Watching her from the minute when she rounded the corner of the +flagged pavement, Jennie noted a rapid change in her expression. At +first it was terrible--that of a queen in wrath. As she approached the +bird cage, however, it cleared so quickly that by the time she reached +the threshold it was almost tender. + +"That's because she likes me," Jennie said to herself. She was +accustomed to being liked, though especially by men. "I think it will +cheer her up if I say right off that I've come to stay with her." + +To make this announcement she had risen to her feet, with lips already +parted; but Mrs. Collingham forestalled her. + +"Sit down again, my dear. I want to talk to you some more. I must tell +you about Mr. Collingham." She herself sank into the chair near Jennie +which she had already occupied. She panted as after a difficult +experience. "Oh dear! It's been so trying! You don't know him, do you? +Well, he's a good man--kind and just in his way--but oh, so stern and +relentless! If he knew what Bob had done in going through that mad thing +with you, he'd turn the boy adrift." + +Having reseated herself already, Jennie now closed her lips. She had +forgotten Mr. Collingham. Coming to stay was meeting a new obstacle. + +"It's only fair to you to make you understand what kind of man my +husband is. Of course, he's a strong man, otherwise he wouldn't have +accomplished all he has. My son, my daughter, I myself--we're but +puppets on his string. His word has to be law to us. And with Bob the +way he is--wanting to marry every girl he meets--and forgetting her next +day--his father has no patience. You don't know how hard it is for me, +my dear, always to have to stand between them." + +As she paused to dab her eyes, Jennie saw the limousine, the villa, with +Teddy's chance of pickling down ten a week, fading out like a picture in +the movies. + +"I wouldn't dare to tell him of the great wrong Bob has done to you. +He'd disinherit him on the spot. If Bob were to insist on having this +escapade--you wouldn't really call it a marriage, would you?--but if he +were to insist on its being made public, why, there'd be an end of his +relations with his father. My husband would neither give him a cent nor +leave him a cent. I must say that Bob would deserve it; but, Jennie, I'm +thinking of you. You'd have forsaken the man you loved, married a man +you didn't care for, and got nothing in the world to show for it. That's +where you'd have to suffer, and I can see well enough that you're +suffering already." + +There was every reason now that Jennie's tears should begin to flow. +Flow they did while her companion watched. + +"And yet, as you'll see, Mr. Collingham is not an unkind man. When I +explained to him that we might be more indebted to you than I had +thought at first, he said--" + +With a look of anticipation, Jennie stopped crying suddenly, though the +tears already shed were glistening on her cheek. + +The point was now to find phraseology at once clear enough and delicate +enough to suggest a course and yet not shock the sensibilities. + +"You see, my dear, it's this way. One has to keep one's ideals, hasn't +one? That goes without saying. Once we let our ideals go"--she flung her +hands outward--"well, what's the use of living? My own life hasn't been +as happy as you might think; and if it hadn't been for my ideals--" + +Jennie broke in because she couldn't help it. + +"Mr. Wray is ideal for a man, don't you think, Mrs. Collingham?" + +It was the lead Junia needed. + +"He's perfect, Jennie, in his way; and, oh, how I wish you were as free +as forty-eight hours ago! You could be, of course, if--But I mustn't +advise you, must I? I don't know how to. I'm just as lost as you are. +Only, if you could find a way to cast the burden of the whole thing on +Bob--" + +"Do you mean to make him get the divorce?" + +"In that case, we should want to feel that you had something to fall +back upon. And so my husband thought that perhaps twenty-five thousand +dollars--" + +Jennie gave a great gasp. Her head began to swim. Not villas and +limousines rose before her, but cloud-capped towers and gorgeous +palaces. + +"Poor daddy," she thought, "wouldn't have to hunt for a job any more, +and momma'd have nothing to do for the rest of her life but sit in a +chair and rock." + +Yet that was only part of the vision. The rest did not go so easily into +words. She had only to hurry to the studio, fling herself into the arms +she was longing to feel clasped round her--and become fabulously rich. + +That would be if Bob took the opening she offered him. If he didn't-- + +"But suppose Bob won't?" she asked, in terror lest he should not. + +"I've thought of that, too," came the prompt answer. "He will, of +course. But suppose he didn't. Well, we're not hagglers, my dear. We're +only simple people trying to do right, just as you're trying to do right +yourself. If Bob is only in a position in which he _can_ undo his wrong, +whether he undoes it or not, you shall have your twenty-five thousand +just the same." + +"Could I have it as early as--as next week?" + +"If the conditions are fulfilled, certainly." + +Jennie was anxious to free herself from the charge of cupidity. + +"The reason I say next week is that my father is worried about the +interest on the mortgage and the taxes. He didn't pay the interest last +time, and the taxes are two months overdue. If he can't find the money +by next week--" + +"You yourself can be in a position to take all the worry off his +hands--once the conditions are fulfilled." + +Little more was said after this. There was little more to say. The +necessities of the case being once understood, Junia steered her guest +back to the car which waited at the door. + +But into the leave-taking Max threw an odd note of hostility. As if he +resented some baseness toward his master, he pressed his flank against +Jennie with such force as almost to knock her down, and when she sprang +away from him into the car he growled after her. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +"So you can do it and get away with it." This was Teddy's reflection as +he left the bank on that Thursday afternoon. He had spent an infernal +day, but it was over, and over safely. Of the missing twenty dollars he +had neither heard a word nor caught a sign of anxiety. Mr. Brunt had +been methodical and taciturn as usual. Always keeping a gulf between +Teddy and himself, it was neither more nor less a gulf to-day than it +was on other days. As to whether he missed twenty dollars or whether he +did not, Teddy could form no idea. + +In the middle of the morning there had been a terrifying incident. + +"See that guy over there?" Lobley, one of his colleagues, had asked him. + +He saw the guy over there--a crafty, clean-shaven Celt--and said so. + +"That's Flynn, the detective who copped Nicholson, the teller at the +Wyndham National." + +"O my God! I'm pinched!" Teddy exclaimed to himself. "If I had a gun or +a dose of poison, he'd never get me alive." + +But Flynn only chatted with Jackman, one of the house detectives, +laughed, cashed a check at a wicket, and left the bank. + +Teddy breathed again, wondering if he had given anything away to Lobley. +Was it possible that Lobley could have heard of the twenty dollars and +been set to try him out? No; he didn't believe so. Lobley had merely +pointed out Flynn as a notable character, and gone about his business. + +"I shall never forget that mug," Teddy thought, as he summoned his +_sang-froid_ to go on with his work. "The mug of a guy without guts," he +added, further to define the pitiless set of Flynn's features. "I sure +would kill myself before I let him touch me." + +There was no other alarm that day; there was only the incessant fear, +the incessant watchfulness that made him shrink from every eye that +glanced his way, and which, when office hours were over, sent him +scuttling to the subway like a rabbit to its hole. + +At supper, his father brought up again the subject of the taxes and the +interest on the mortgage. The latter would be due at the end of the +following week, and the former was long overdue. With the added interest +on both, he owed two hundred and sixty-odd dollars, of which he had +borrowed from old friends a hundred and fifteen. Between the sum due and +that in hand, there was a gap which he didn't see how to fill. + +"We'll get it somehow, daddy," Jennie said, encouragingly. "Don't begin +worrying." + +"No; Ted'll rob the bank," Gussie laughed, flippantly. + +Teddy was on his feet, shaking his fist across the table. + +"See here, Miss Gus; that's just about--" + +Gussie laughed up at him, still more flippantly. + +"You haven't robbed it already, have you? Momma, do make him behave." + +"Children, don't squabble, please! Teddy darling, Gussie was only poking +a little fun. Sit down and have some more hash. It's made with beets in +it, just the way you like it. I was reading," she continued, to divert +the minds of the company, "of that teller at the Wyndham National--" + +"Nicholson," Josiah put in. "I used to know him when I was at the Hudson +River Trust. Sharp-eyed little ferret face, he was. Twenty-three +thousand, extending over a period of five years. Often had lunch with +him at the same counter. Blueberry pie was a favorite of his." + +"Twenty-three thousand, extending over a period of five years!" Teddy +repeated that to himself. He wondered that it hadn't struck him when he +heard the fellows at the bank discussing the arrest. One of them had +claimed "inside dope" as to how Nicholson had covered up his tracks, and +explained the process. Teddy hadn't listened to that, because the +magnitude of the theft had excluded its bearing on his own. + +But there it was forcing itself on his attention, like Pansy's cold nose +pressed at that minute against his hand. You could have five years' +leeway, and never be suspected. He pumped his father for further details +as to Nicholson's life, learning that he had owned his home at +Leffingwell Manor, where he had been a member of the golf club and a +church goer. + +At his own fears Teddy smiled inwardly. Twenty dollars, which would +certainly be paid back in the course of a few weeks! Already he had +saved seventy cents toward the restoration, just by going without his +lunch, with a few economies in car fares. If he could pawn his best suit +of clothes, he would have the whole sum within a fortnight. The suit had +been bought for twenty-six dollars, and would certainly bring in ten. It +would be a matter of dodging his mother and getting it out of the closet +in her room, where she kept it in order to regulate his use of it. + +As supper went on, it was little Gladys who brought up the question +which some one older might have asked. + +"What would happen, daddy, if you couldn't pay the interest and the +taxes?" + +"They could sell us out of house and home." + +But this possibility being more than a week off, the statement brought +no fears with it. Like all people who at the best of times are dependent +on a weekly wage, the Folletts had the mental attitude best described as +"from hand to mouth." That is, once the dinner was secure, there was no +will to worry as to where the supper was to come from. It was +fundamentally a question of outlook. People used to being provided for +naturally looked ahead; but where your most extended view could take you +no more than from one meal to another your powers of forecast grew +limited. Doubtless the provision was merciful, for, in the case of the +Folletts, even the parents felt the futility of dreading a calamity more +than a week away. + +Of all the six, Jennie was the only one with a power of making +comparisons and drawing contrasts. She had had, that day, a glimpse of a +world as different from her own as paradise from earth. It was no use +saying that it was different only in degree; it was different also in +kind. It was different in values, in textures, in amplitudes. It was +another thing, not another aspect of the same thing. Junia Collingham +might be a human being like herself; but in all that was of practical +account, she was as widely separated from Jennie Follett as a New Yorker +from a Central African. + +That was as far as Jennie got. Her mind was not given to deduction or +her spirit to asking questions. Not having a God in particular, she had +nothing to act as a great touchstone, to praise or to blame. Some human +beings had everything; others had next to nothing. The Folletts were +among "the others." Jennie didn't know how or why. She didn't ask to +know. Knowing would perhaps be worse than not knowing, since it might +stir rebellion where there was now only lassitude and resignation. But +there was the fact. The Collinghams could throw her twenty-five thousand +dollars as she threw a titbit to Pansy, while her father might be sold +out of house and home for lack of a hundred and fifty. + +Jennie mused, but she did no more. Life was too big a mystery to grapple +with. If she tried it, it made her unhappy. It made her unhappy that Max +should have been friendly at first, and then growled at her so +resentfully. She wondered if dogs had a scent for moral and emotional +atmospheres. She couldn't express this last in words, but she did it +very well by thought. She often had thoughts for which she had no words, +so that her inner life was broader than that which she showed outside. +It was one of the things she had noticed about Mrs. Collingham--that she +had words for everything. It was like her possession of the house, the +gardens, the beautiful things. They gave her spaciousness. Her spirit +moved with a larger swing. She could think, feel, express herself +strongly, vividly, commandingly, while they, the Folletts, had to creep +and sneak timidly along the back lanes of life. + +"That's why I'm doing it," she reasoned with herself, "because I'm in +the back lanes of life. I can creep and sneak along, and I can't do +anything else. It was all very well for him to jostle me with his lean, +iron flank and to growl; but he didn't know what twenty-five thousand +would mean to me." + +Along the line of these musings, Teddy said, suddenly: + +"Saw young Coll to-day. Came up and spoke to me. Not half a bad sort +when you get to know him." + +Jennie felt a little faint, but no one noticed it, because Gussie threw +back the ball. + +"Tell him to come up and speak to me. Any afternoon at half past five, +when I leave Corinne's." + +"Say, Gus," Gladys giggled; "wouldn't you like a guy with all that wad +waitin' for you every day when Corinne shuts down the lid? My! The +ice-cream sodas he could blow you to!" + +Lizzie was pained. It seemed to her that the process of Americanization +which her children were undergoing lay chiefly in the degradation of +their speech. + +"Gladys darling, can't you find proper words to--" + +"Oh, momma dear," Gladys complained, "do put a can on all that. If +you're a cash girl, you've got to talk English, or the other girls'll +whizzy you round the lot." + +"Young Coll is going to South America," Teddy informed the party. "Sails +with Huntley on Monday. Gosh! Wouldn't I like to be going, too! Say, +dad, why do some fellows come into the world with the way all smoothed +for them and their bread buttered in advance?" + +"Because," Gussie declared, loftily, "they're clever and can get ahead, +like Fred Inglis. I'll bet that if _his_ father wanted his taxes and the +interest on a mortgage, he wouldn't have to raise the wind among his old +friends. Fred'd be Johnny-on-the-spot with the greenbacks." + +Teddy could only gulp, hang his head over his plate, and choke himself +with hash, as he muttered to his soul; "God! I'll shoot that Fred Inglis +if I ever get a gun." + +And just as if she knew that Teddy needed comforting, Pansy sprang upon +his knees, pushing her face up along his breast till she could lick his +chin. + + ---- + +Twenty-four hours later Max was vexing his soul with the difficulty of +transcending planes. There was so much of which he could have warned his +master, now that he had got him back from Long Island; but there was +neither speech nor language, neither symbol nor sign, to make human +beings understand anything but the most primitive needs and concepts. +Obedience! Disobedience! Hunger! Thirst! Sorrow! Joy! These sentiments +could be put over from the dog plane to the human plane, but without +shadings, subtleties, or any of the marvels of untuitive knowledge by +which dogs could enlighten men if men had open faculties. To another +dog, he could have flashed his information in an instant; whereas human +beings could only seize ideas when they were beaten into them with +verbal clubs. + +Edith and Bob voted Max a nuisance because, in his agony of impotence, +he pranced restlessly about the bedroom, lashing his tail in one tempo +and pointing his ears in another. Edith had come down from the +Berkshires on hearing by wire that Bob was to leave next Monday for +South America. She was seated now on the bed, her back against the +footboard. + +"What I don't quite see," she was saying, "is how you can be so sure." + +Bob looked at her as he stood taking the studs from the soft-bosomed +evening shirt in his hand to transfer them to the clean one lying on the +bed. + +"How can you be so sure about Ayling?" + +"Well, that's a little different. Ernest speaks our language; he has our +ways. Dad and mother make a fuss because he hasn't a lot of money; but +that means no more than if he didn't wear a certain kind of hat. He's +our sort, just the same." + +"And I'm her sort. I can't explain it to you, Edie, but she needs me." + +"How do you know she needs you? Has she ever admitted it?" + +"I haven't asked her to admit it. I can see." + +"Yes, that's all very fine, but--did it ever strike you, when Hubert's +been talking about her, that--" + +Bob made an inarticulate sound of scorn as he inserted the cuff links +into a cuff. + +"Oh, Hubert's a top-hole chap, all right; but my Lord!--Jennie wouldn't +look across the street at him." + +"But he might look across the street at Jennie; and with you so far +away--" + +He smiled, with something like a wink. + +"Don't you fret about that. She's the kind of little woman to be true. +You can't mistake 'em." + +"We've known a good many men who have mistaken them." + +"You haven't known my kind to make that sort of tumble. Love can be +blind; but instinct can't be. Edie, I believe so much in that girl that, +if she was to play me false--But there--good Lord!--she couldn't; so why +talk about it any more? See here," he added. "If you're going to change +your dress, you'll have to scuttle--and I must get into my waiter's +togs." + + ---- + +Meanwhile Dauphin's struggles were of another order. It was the hour of +the day which he was accustomed to spend with Collingham, and to spend +it undisturbed. In this lovely spring weather they strolled about the +gardens, peeped into the hotbeds, dropped in aimlessly at the stable or +the garage, exchanged odds and ends of observation with the men working +around the place. After this, they returned to the house, where, +upstairs, in a comfortably, masculine bedroom, the man made changes in +his outer fur, while the setter, less concerned about trifles, stretched +himself out on the floor and blinked. It was a restful time, suited to a +mind which after the stormier years was growing more and more content +with material prosperity, and to a heart that was always content with +its master's contentment. + +But, of late, poor Dauphin had been painfully buffeted by waves of +agitation. They emanated from his master, like circlets round a stone +thrown into a pool. When his master's wife came into the scene the +conflict of forces was terrible. She was not straight with her lord. She +was using him, hoodwinking him. Dauphin would have sprung at her throat +had it not been for the knowledge that, were he to do so, he would be +beaten and kicked by the object of his defense. No; you couldn't deal +with human beings sensibly. The wise thing to do was to stretch on the +floor and pretend to snooze while they fought their own fight. + +They didn't precisely fight their own fight just now. Collingham merely +accepted terms. He was picking up his evening jacket from the bed on +which his valet had laid it out. Junia, dressed exactly to the mean +between too little and too much suited for a family dinner, had crossed +the threshold of his room, where she stood adjusting a fall of lace. + +"As I told you yesterday after she went away, she's just what you'd +expect from such a girl, certainly no better and possibly a little +worse. She's a mousey little thing, with a veneer of modesty; but +'mercenary' isn't the word. It's just a question of money, Bradley; and +if you'll leave it to me to deal with--" + +"Leave it to you to deal with--to the tune of twenty-five thousand +dollars," he said, morosely, pulling his coat into shape round his +shoulders as he looked into the long glass. + +"Well, that's only half what it might have been. I thought at one time +that we might have to make it fifty thousand--" + +He was not sure, but he thought she finished with the word "again." If +so it was uttered too softly for him to be obliged to take note of it, +so that he merely picked up a hairbrush and put another touch to his +hair. + +She was now at work on the great string of pearls which, to keep them +alive, she wore even in domestic privacy. Her object was to get the +famous Roehampton pearl, from the late Lady Roehampton's collection, +which had been the seal of her reconciliation with Bradley fifteen years +earlier--to get this jewel right in the center of her person, to make +the string symmetric. + +"My point in bringing it up now," she said, speaking into her chin as +her eyes inspected the long oval of the necklet, "is to remind you that +you don't know anything. You haven't seen Bob for nearly a week, and +after Monday you won't see him for two or three months at least. Don't +let him suspect that you've anything on your mind. As a matter of fact, +you haven't, except what I tell you--and I may not tell you everything." + +"And that may be what I complain of." + +"You can't complain of it when I give you the results--now can you? You +don't complain of Mr. Bickley, or ask him for all the reasons he has for +saying this or that. You leave him a free hand, and are ruled by +him--you've often said it--even when your own preference would be to do +something else, as it was in the case of this man Follett. Now I only +claim to be the Mr. Bickley of the family." + +That he had rights as father Collingham was aware, though he was shy of +putting them forward. Having left them so much in abeyance, it would +have been as ridiculous to emphasize them now as to dispute Bickley as +efficiency expert at the bank. Moreover, the uneasiness which seizes on +a man when his chickens come home to roost inclined him still further to +passivity. If Bob was "knocking about town," as he seemed to be, he +might know about his father what Junia did not--or presumably did +not--that the woman who received the fifty thousand dollars had had her +successors, and that even now the line was not extinct. While he knew of +amusing incidents of fathers and sons meeting on this ground, any such +_contretemps_ in his own case would have shocked him profoundly. Junia +might go beyond her powers in prescribing his course, and yet, for a +multitude of reasons too subtle for him to phrase, it seemed wise to +follow what Junia prescribed. + +So the family dined and spent the evening together as tourists walk +across the Solfatara crater. The ground was hot beneath their tread, and +here and there a whiff of sulphuric vapor poured through a fissure in +the crust; but only Max and Dauphin sensed the volcanic fire. + +Later in the evening, Junia knelt at her _prie-dieu_ with the armorial +books of devotion. + +"And, O heavenly Father," she added, to her usual prayer, "have mercy +upon that poor erring girl and help her to repent. Grant that my son may +extricate himself from the toils in which he is entangled. Enable my +daughter to see that her duty lies in the station of life to which thou +hast been pleased to call her. Give my husband the wisdom to seek advice +and to follow it. Lead me with thy counsel so that I may do what is best +for all my dear ones, through Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Amen." + +Having thus poured out her heart, she rose feeling stronger and more +comforted. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +It should be said for Jennie Follett that, in the matter of her course +toward Bob Collingham, she had few of those convictions of sin and +righteousness which restrain a proportion of mankind. As with the other +members of her family, her conduct followed certain lines "because she +couldn't help it." That is as far as her analysis would have carried +her, though analysis didn't give her much concern. Having so much to do +to get food and clothes, the higher laws were outside her sphere of +interest. Her chief law was Necessity, and it covered so much ground +that there was little place for any other law. + +It may be well to state here that the Folletts belonged to that vast +American contingent who have practically no religion. They had had a +religion in Canada, where they had attended the church of a local god +who seemed to hold no sway over the United States. They never found that +church in the suburbs of New York, or, if they found it nominally, it +didn't, in their opinion, "seem the same." There were no local suasions +and compulsions to bring them to its doors, and so, after a few +spasmodic efforts to re-establish the connection, they gave up the +attempt. + +Perhaps this failure was due to the fact that, in the depths of her +strong, proud heart, Lizzie didn't believe in God. Josiah did--or, at +least, he had believed in him up to the time of being thrown upon the +scrap heap. But Lizzie's faith in God had died with the dying of her +faith in man. She had never said so, because she kept her deeper +thoughts to herself; but along these lines her influence on her children +had been negative. + +So Jennie had missed those counsels to do right which sometimes form a +part of domestic education. With so little latitude for doing anything, +there was not--apart from the grosser vices--much latitude in the +Follett family even for doing wrong. They did what they "couldn't help" +doing, and there was an end of it. A kind of inborn rectitude kept them +from offenses of which the public would have taken note, but behind it +there was little in the way of principle. + +Jennie went to her farewell meeting with Bob untroubled by qualms of +conscience. Even if scruples had worried her, they would have been +allayed by the knowledge, imparted by Bob's own mother, that he had done +her a great injury. He made the same kind of love to every girl he had +known for an hour, and forgot her the next day. "One of these days," the +mother had said, "some girl would catch him, and then he would be +sorry." A girl hadn't caught him in this case, but he had caught a girl, +and didn't know what to do with her. Having compelled her to go through +a form of marriage--it was no more than a form--he was sailing off to +the ends of the world, leaving her not so much as the protection of his +name. She owed him nothing; and only the goodness of his angel mother +was making up for what he owed to her. + +And, on his side, Bob was so carried away by his romance as to have no +conception of Jennie's attitude toward him. Seeing himself as a knight +riding to the relief of a damsel in distress, it did not occur to him +that the damsel could have a preference as to her deliverer. It was a +matter of course that, from the window of the tower in which she was a +prisoner, she would drop into his arms. + +In other words, Bob had his own view of the advantages of being a +Collingham. They were great advantages, since they gave him the +opportunity of being generous. He was in love with Jennie largely +because she was an exquisite object on which to spend himself. She was a +gem, not in the rough, and yet in need of polishing, and though his own +refinement was not so very great, he could throw refinement in her way. + +That is to say, love for Bob was very much a matter of giving himself +out. Girls who could have brought him everything--and they were not +scarce at Marillo Park--didn't interest him. They left no place for the +selflessness which was the basis of his character. He couldn't precisely +be called kind, since kindness implies some deliberation of the will. As +the impulse of a fountain is to pour itself out, so Bob's impulse was to +give, while Jennie was a crystal chalice wide open to receive. + +"I want you to have everything in the world, Jennie darling," he +declared, bending above her as lovingly as a bench in the park would +permit. "I can't give it to you right off the bat, worse luck, but +sooner or later I'll be able to dope you out every little wish. Good +Lord! How I'll enjoy it." + +"What do you mean by sooner or later?" Jennie asked, with eyes downcast. + +"When I get the family broken to the bit. I can't tell you in dates or +time. They'll be hard in the mouth at first; and mother pulls like the +devil." + +At this false witness, Jennie was revolted. No one knew better than +herself the bigness of that maternal heart which, as early as next week, +would give liberal proof of its sincerity, when Bob's promises would +still be in the air. + +Bob had the afternoon at his disposal. The park offered itself as a +delicious trysting place, because it was the month of May. In a nook +where lilac and syringa overshadowed them and water glinted between +lawns and glades, they sat discreetly side by side, and she permitted +him to hold her hand. + +He went on to sketch his plans for the immediate future. His most trying +lack was that of ready cash. The parental system had always been +generous as to things, but penurious in money. In the matter of things, +he would be as extravagant as he reasonably liked, so long as the bills +were sent to dad. Before he went to work at the bank, his allowance in +money wouldn't have kept him in cigarettes. Even now, he was only on the +weekly pay roll for thirty-eight dollars and sixty-six cents per, handed +him in a pay envelope. Food, lodging, clothes, saddle horses, motor +cars--all these were thrown in extra; but in actual coin he didn't +handle more than his two thousand dollars a year, like any other clerk. + +Jennie could see, therefore, that, to begin with, their position would +be difficult, though only to begin with. He could send her a little +money while he was away, but it wouldn't be very much. + +"I don't want you to send me any," she said, hastily. + +"You forget that I'm your husband, dear. If I didn't, you could bring an +action for divorce on the ground of nonsupport." + +This idea being new to Jennie, she had it explained to her, rejecting it +as a resource because it was unromantic. + +"And so, to be on the safe side against that," he laughed, "I've got +this for you now." + +Slipping an envelope from his pocket, he forced it into the hand he was +holding. + +"It's only a hundred dollars--" he was beginning to explain. + +She snatched her hand away as if she had been stung. + +"Oh, Bob, I can't!" + +That situation amused him. It was one more proof of the naive honesty of +the little girl. He knew how hard up she was, how hard up all the family +must be, and yet money didn't tempt her. + +"You're a funny little kid," he laughed, drawing her as near to him as +the park laws would permit. "You'd think I didn't have a right to take +care of you." + +But Jennie was feeling that if she took this money she would be bound to +him by principles more acute than the promises she had made before the +parson. + +"No, Bob, I can't. Please don't make me--_please_!" + +But in the end he forced it on her, and she stowed it away in her little +bag. By that time, too, she had reviewed the family situation. With a +hundred dollars in her possession they could less easily be sold out of +house and home at the end of the following week. That calamity, at +least, could be dodged, whatever other misfortune might overtake +herself. She might decide that to be sold out of house and home would be +easier than to bind herself further to Bob by using his money; but, +still, she would have the choice. As to the twenty-five thousand, there +was always the possibility that it might not come in time. She had not +yet seen Hubert; she couldn't see him till Bob had sailed. When she did, +the other woman might be in her place and her heart would have to break +in spite of everything. Better it should break with a hundred dollars in +her pocket than that she should be helpless to stay the family disaster. + +But when Bob sailed on the Monday she was free to make the great test. +Notwithstanding his definite farewells on the Saturday, he had tried to +see her again on the Sunday, but the necessity for secrecy made it +possible for her to put him off. For one thing, she couldn't go through +a second time such a good-by as that of Saturday. Bob had been too much +overcome. As unexpectedly to himself as to her, he had broken down. +Braving all publicity, he had suddenly seized her hand, pressed it to +his lips, and as he bent over it she could feel his tears against her +fingers. He hadn't exactly cried; he had only breathed hard, with two +great sobs. + +"My God! how I love you, Jennie!" she had heard him muttering. "How I +love you! How I love you! How can I do without you all the time till I +come back?" When he raised his head he laughed sheepishly, though the +tears were still on his cheeks. "Forget it, little girl," he begged, +unsteadily, wiping his cheeks and blowing his nose. "I just worship you, +and that's all there is about it. It breaks me all up to go away and +leave you; but the time will pass, and, if I can help it, I shall never +go away from you again." + +Defying the park laws once more, he had kissed her and kissed her. She +had let him do it because she was so unnerved. Besides, she was sorry +for him, and would have been sorrier still if she hadn't known that by +to-morrow he would have forgotten her. That was always the way with +fellows who took things so hard. The true love was too stern and strong +to show emotion. + +Nevertheless, she had had an unhappy Sunday thinking of those two sobs. +It was not until after ten o'clock on Monday morning that she was able +to turn again to the compulsion of the man she loved. At ten, Bob +sailed, and that episode in Jennie's life was probably behind her. By +the time he came back, he would be in love with a girl of his own class +and eager to seize the freedom she, Jennie, would be in a position to +deliver him. At last the way was clear. She had only to go to her lover +and tell him she was there. + +She went that afternoon. Her plan was simple. She would say that if he +had not yet found a model for the girl in the Byzantine chair, she was +ready to do the work. The rest would come as a matter of course. + +Now that she was face to face with the task, her heart was oddly +apathetic. "I might be out to buy postage stamps," she said to herself, +while crossing the ferry. + +None the less, she wished she didn't have to look at this water down +which Bob had sailed only four or five hours previously. Off toward the +south, in the haze of the warm May afternoon, there was a giant steamer +lying as if becalmed. It might be his. There was one still farther out +to sea. That, too, might be his. Far down on the horizon, just passing +out of sight, there was a little black spot with a pennon of black +smoke. That could very easily be his. She watched it. It might be +carrying him away to where he would forget her. Perhaps he had forgotten +her already. His mother had said--and his mother must know him--that he +made love to girls one day and forgot them on the next, and it was +already two days since Saturday. Very well! Let him forget! Only, it +didn't seem as if those kisses and those tears were quite in keeping +with a heart which treated love so easily. + +She was glad when the ferryboat bumped softly against its pier and she +could get away from the great stream of which the very smells and sounds +would now begin to make her think of him. She wished there was another +means of returning home. She wished he had gone by train. She wished.... + +At the door of the studio building she was seized with a great terror. +She began to understand what it was she had come to do. She had come to +give herself up. She was to say, in fact, "Here I am--take me." And he +would take her--if he hadn't already taken some one else. The betrayal +of a husband who was hardly a husband was no longer in her mind. She was +appalled at this yielding of herself. + +Yet she did everything as she had been accustomed to do it and entered +the studio by the door she generally used. + +At first she thought there was no one there. Certainly the other woman +was not there, and that was so far a relief. Slowly, cautiously, she +made her way between the brocades, old furniture, and pedestals. Then +she saw Hubert and Hubert saw her. + +She stood very much as a deer stands when surprised in the bracken--head +erect, eyes curious. Till he gave her a sign she made no movement to go +farther. And for a minute he gave her no sign. He only remained seated +and looked. He looked, with a sketch and pencil in his hand. He had been +occupied in touching something up. + +But she couldn't mistake it. It was the girl in the Byzantine chair. Her +heart, which seemed to swell to thrice its size, thumped painfully. + +Then, at last, a smile broke over his face, lifting his mustache and +mounting to his violet eyes. He didn't speak; he didn't move. He only +looked, hushed, enraptured, as the hunter at the startled deer. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Feeling that an explanation of her presence in the studio should come +from herself, Jennie faltered: + +"I--I only looked in to say that if you hadn't found a model for--for +the picture you wanted to paint, I might--I might be able to pose." + +Though she hadn't advanced and he hadn't moved, the extraordinary light +in his eyes made her heart thump more wildly. + +"You'd do it"--he held up the sketch--"dressed like that?" + +She remembered his own phrase, "If I'm to be that kind of a model I must +_be_ that kind of a model--and do what's expected." + +The process of starving out being so far successful, Wray felt it well +to push it a little more. He rose with an air of distress. + +"I wish you could have told me this last week, Jennie. As it is--" + +"You've got some one else?" + +"Not definitely. I've tried out three--two of them no good, though the +third might--" + +"Might do as well as me?" + +"Perhaps better in some ways. I mean," he added hastily, as she seemed +about to go, "that she's a real professional model, and for this kind of +job, of course, a professional would be--let us say, more at her ease." + +So many good things had, during the past few days, swum into Jennie's +vision, only to swim out again, that she had grown almost used to this +fading of her hopes. Nevertheless, the bliss of loving Hubert and +getting twenty-five thousand dollars for it had seemed tolerably sure. +To lose it now would be hard; but harder still, for the moment, at +least, was this tone of detachment, of indifference. That another woman +should, in some ways, do better than herself was worse than the last +indignity. Her lip trembled. She was about to turn away with that +collapse of the figure which marks the woman who has lost all hope. + +He hurried up to her, laying his hand on her arm in a way that made a +thrill run through her frame. + +"Wait a minute, Jennie! I'd like to talk it over. If you want me to try +you out--" + +"What does that mean--try me out?" + +"Oh, simply that you'd take the pose, so that I could see how nearly +you'd come up to what I want." + +"And then if I didn't--" + +He smiled. "Oh, but you will--at least I think so." + +"When would you do it?" + +"Oh, right now. As soon as you like. I've got the time." + +She looked at him inquiringly, but there was nothing in his eyes to +answer the question she was asking. + +"Oh, very well," she said, dully, and once more turned toward the little +door. + +She had taken a step or two when he said, suddenly, + +"Jennie, what made you come back?" + +She paused, turned again, and pulled herself together. It was necessary +to take the old bantering tone. After all, she could fence in her way as +well as anybody else. + +"Oh, I don't know," she threw off carelessly. "I thought I might as +well." + +"Might as well what?" + +"Oh, go in for the whole thing. As you say yourself, if you're to be +that kind of a model--" + +"And was that all?" + +"'All?' It was a good deal, I should say." + +"It was a good deal, yes--but I asked if it was all." + +"Well, ask away, my boy. I don't have to answer you or go to jail, now +do I?" + +Extraordinary the relief of falling back on studio badinage! It took her +off the Collingham stilts, away from the high-wrought Collingham +emotions. She began to see what the trouble was with Bob. His touch +wasn't light enough. He was too purposeful. He seemed to think you must +mean something all the time. Mrs. Collingham, too, seemed to think so. +It was not in Bob's language so much as in his cast of mind; but it was +in his mother's cast of mind, and in her language, too. + +Jennie thought of this as she stood before the pier-glass in the little +dressing-room, first taking off her jacket, and then unpinning her hat. +She would have to do her hair on the top of her head like the girl in +Hubert's sketch. "And that's all the clothes I shall need to put on," +she tried to say flippantly. She tried to say it flippantly, because +that, too, would be along the line that people took who weren't +Collinghams. + +People who weren't Collinghams! That meant all the people in Indiana +Avenue, all the people in Pemberton Heights, the vast majority of the +people in the United States, not to speak of any other country. Jennie +had a good many acquaintances, and the family, taken as a whole, had +more; but she couldn't think of anyone in their class who took life as +more than a skimming on the surface. Outside the bounden duties which +they couldn't avoid they chiefly liked being silly. + +She thought of that, too, loosening her hair and letting it fall in +amber wavelets over her shoulders and down her back. Mrs. Collingham had +said that it was lovely hair, but she hadn't really seen it. There was +so much of it that, when she piled it up like the girl in the sketch, it +almost overweighted her delicate little face. + +No; whatever you could say about people like the Collinghams, you +couldn't say they were silly. They had motives, opinions, points of +view. They had minds, and they used them. They might not use them well, +but to use them at all was better than to let them grow atrophied. + +Jennie, as has been said, had no words to express these thoughts, but, +like Pansy, she could do without a vocabulary. She felt; she vibrated. +She, too, had a mind, though she was afraid of putting it to work. +Lingering over the piling of her hair, she wondered if the use or nonuse +of the mind marked the real line between people like the Collinghams and +people like the Folletts. Was that why the country was divided into +highbrows and lowbrows--those who made the best of what they had, and +those who disqualified themselves for all the stronger purposes? Since +her peep at Marillo Park, she saw that something admitted one to such a +haven, and something kept one out. There was money, of course, and +position; but back of both position and money wasn't it the case that +there was mind? + +She threw off her blouse and lingered again to examine her arms and +bust. She lingered on purpose, putting off the extraordinary thing she +had to do to the latest possible minute. + +At Collingham Lodge, she had caught glimpses of books, papers, and +magazines. Even in the bird cage they were lying on the table and +chairs. The Folletts hardly ever read a book. The only work of the kind +she could remember the family ever to have bought was one called +_Ancient Rome Restored_, which her mother had subscribed for in monthly +parts when an agent brought a sample to the house. It was at a time when +Lizzie was afraid that her children--they were children still--would +grow up without cultivation. _Ancient Rome Restored_, being abundantly +illustrated, called out in the young Folletts the almost extinct +Scarborough tradition. Having no other important picture book to look +at, they pored over the glories of the Forum, of Hadrian's Villa, of the +Baths of Caracalla, till an odd, incipient love of classic beauty began +to stir in them. But there their cultivation ended. In the papers they +studied only the murders, burglaries, and comic cuts. In the way of +general entertainment, the movies formed their sole relaxation, but +unless the play was silly they complained. Anything that asked for +thought they kicked against, and Pemberton Heights kicked with them. Was +that why there was a Pemberton Heights and a Marillo Park? Did the power +of thought control the difference between them? Was it that where there +was little or no power of thought, there was little or nothing of +anything else? + +She unhooked her skirt and let it slip down to a circular heap about her +feet. She wondered if the girl who would, in some ways, do better than +herself were as lithely built as she. Mrs. Collingham had likened her +to--oh, what was it? It was a spire. It sounded like a chapel. She had +tossed it off as something that everybody knew about. So she had tossed +off other names, taking it for granted that Jennie would have them at +her fingers' ends. + +The more she pondered the more sure of it she became--that she and her +kind were poor and helpless chiefly because they wouldn't take the +trouble to be otherwise. Not to stray from the childish, the +sentimental, and the obvious gave them the relief she found in returning +to the lingo she had always used with Wray. + +She had used it with Bob, too--only, with Bob she had used it +differently. Perhaps it was he who had used it differently. Between her +and Wray, it had never been more than the medium of chaff, except on +those occasions when it had become the vehicle of a half-acknowledged +passion. Bob had tried to say something with it, even when slangy or +colloquial. He had treated her as if she was worth talking to. He had +tried to make her feel that she could talk on better themes than any +they ever broached. + +Poor Bob--sailing away to the south, thinking that where he left her +there he would find her! Little he knew! If he could only see her now! +If he could only dream of what she would be doing in ten minutes' time! +If he only.... + +Something made her shudder. She felt cold. Perhaps the wind had changed +outside, as it often did in May. She stooped, picked up her skirt, and +mechanically hooked it round her. Still feeling chilled, she crossed her +arms and hugged herself. A minute or two later she had put on her blouse +and her jacket. She meant to take them off again as soon as she stopped +shivering. Already Hubert would be cursing her delay. + +She thought of the light in his eyes when she told him that, after all, +she had come to pose. The memory of it made her heart jump again, with a +great, single throb. It was the cave man's light. She never saw it in +Bob's, and never would. Bob's eyes were twinkling and kind. She didn't +suppose she would ever see such kind eyes in anyone else. If kindness +were what she wanted.... + +Beginning to feel warmer, she noticed how grotesque her hair was with +her spring sport suit. She had stuck through it a great skewer, with a +handle of artificial jade, which she had used with some other costume. +But the high crown of hair was so little in keeping with the rest of her +that she pulled out the skewer and the other pins, again letting the +glinting cataract tumble down. + +Why had Bob never asked her if she loved him? Hubert had done it a +hundred, perhaps a thousand times. Bob had seemed to think that his +loving her covered all possible conditions. What he had to give her was +always the theme of his enthusiasm, as if she were a beggar who could +give nothing in return. With Hubert, it was what he was to get from her. +She was the richly dowered one who could offer or withhold. He would +take all--and give nothing. + +Well, let him! It was what she wanted--to be drained dry. If she was to +give herself up, she would give herself up. When Hubert had done with +her, he would chuck her on the scrap heap like her father. That was the +way she loved him. That was the way to be loved. Cave men didn't watch +lest you should get damp feet, or have their lives insured for you. +Their love was passion, a fire that burned you up and left you a white +bit of ash. + +And yet to be burned up and left a white bit of ash was something for +which she was not yet prepared. She didn't say this to herself. All of a +sudden she was terrified. Whatever instinct governed her went into the +nimbleness of her fingers as she began flattening her hair so as to put +on her hat. She didn't know why she was doing this. She didn't even know +that she wanted to get away. It was just a wild impulse to be back as +the everyday Jennie Follett. The girl in the Byzantine chair was out of +the question--for to-day. To-morrow, perhaps!--probably--quite surely! +But for to-day she must still belong for a few more hours to herself. +Hubert might come thumping any minute on the door, and if he found her +dressed for the street.... + +And just then he did come thumping on the door. + +"Jennie, for God's sake, what's the matter? Are you dead?" + +She gasped. It would have been a relief if she could have fainted. All +she could do was to thrust the last pin into her hat and go to the door +and open it. + +Hubert stood aghast. + +"Well, by all the holy cats--!" + +"I'm not well, Mr. Wray," she pleaded, with sudden inspiration. + +"Ah, go on, Jennie! You were well enough twenty minutes ago." + +"Yes; but since then I've been feeling chilled." + +He strode into the dressing-room, which he was not supposed to do. + +"Chilled--hell! Why, this hole's as hot as blazes." + +"It isn't that. I think it's a germ-cold I'm taking." + +"See here, Jennie," he said, sternly. "You're going to funk it. All +right! It doesn't make much difference to me. The other girl--it's Emma +Brasshead--you know!--she was the middle one in Sims's three +nudes--perfectly stunning hips--" + +"I'll be here to-morrow--right on the dot." + +He wheeled away as far as the space of the dressing-room would permit. + +"Oh, well, Jennie, I don't know that it would be of much use, after all. +Emma's the type, you see. You'd be too--" + +"You can't tell that till--till you've tried me out." + +"I can try you out right through your clothes. What's a man a painter +for?" + +"If you can do that, why did you want me to--" + +He turned sharply. + +"Jennie, you're not straight with me." + +"Oh, but I am! I'm as straight with you as--as you are with me. But I +can't help being sick." + +"You can't help being Jennie," he muttered, brokenly, "the girl I +worship and who worships me. Jennie! Jennie! Jennie!" + +"Oh, don't, Hubert; don't!" she begged. "To-morrow! I'll come to-morrow, +and then--" + +But he smothered these protests. + +"You wildcat! You adorable tigress!" + +"Yes, Hubert--but to-morrow--" + +"No, no!" + +His kisses, his brutalities, were agony to her, and yet they were bliss. +She didn't know why she fought them off, or what instinct led her to +defend herself, or how she found herself out on the stairs. + +She went down slowly. She was not angry; she was only excited and a +little amused. Sex fury was less romantic than she had supposed; but as +an exhibition of the human being at his most animal, it was "some +curtain raiser." If she had to go through it again.... + +But as she jogged toward the ferry in the street car, this mood passed +off. She grew sick with a sense of failure. Love and twenty-five +thousand dollars were at stake, and she had funked the game. She was not +a sport; she wondered if she were a woman. If she couldn't play up +better than this, she would have Bob back on her hands again and be +shamed forever before Mrs. Collingham, who had been so good to her. +Moreover, if she continued to play fast and loose with Wray he would +certainly return to Miss Brasshead. + +She dreaded reaching the ferry and having to go on the boat. The river +was now haunted by Bob, like the sea by a phantom ship. While crossing, +she sat with her eyes closed so as to shut out this memory by not +looking at the water. + +Arrived on the New Jersey side, she was so much earlier than she usually +returned, and so dispirited, that she decided to walk home, threading +the way through sordid streets till she climbed the more cleanly ascent +to the Heights. The Heights has a common as well as a square, and +Jennie's way took her through the great shady grassplot, where men were +lounging on benches, nurses wheeling their babies, and boys playing +baseball. Round the common are the civic monuments of Pemberton Heights, +the bank, the post-office, the hospital, the engine house, and the +public library. Jennie looked at this last as if she had never seen it +before. + +As a matter of fact, she never had seen it before. She had looked at it +more times than she could count, but with the eyes only. She knew what +it was. She had actually watched the coquettish red-brick building, with +its glass dome and white Grecian portico rising at the command of the +great philanthropist whose name the building bore; but she had never +been conscious of its purpose as related to herself. Now, for the first +time, it occurred to her that here was a place where a reader could find +books. + +With no very clear idea in mind, she stepped within. The interior was +hushed, rather awesome, yet sunny and sweetly solemn like the temple of +some cheerful god. Finding herself confronted by a kindly, bookish +little lady seated at a table behind a wooden barrier, it was obviously +Jennie's duty to address her. + +"I wonder if--if I could borrow a book." + +She was informed that she could borrow three books at a time, as soon as +certain inquiries as to her identity and residence were carried out, and +this would take a few days. But in a few days, Jennie knew that her +desire to read might be dead, and said so. The object of the library +being to encourage young people to read rather than to be too particular +about their addresses, the kindly little lady, after some consultation +with a kindly little gentleman, filled out Jennie's card. + +"What sort of book were you thinking of? A novel?" + +Jennie said, "Yes," if it was a good one. + +"This is one of the best," the little lady went on, pushing forward a +volume that happened to be lying at her hand, "if you'd care to take +it." + +It was _The Egoist_, by George Meredith, and Jennie accepted it as +something foreordained. + +"You could have two more books if you wanted them--now that you're +here." + +Jennie made a plunge. + +"Have you anything about--about spires?" + +The lady smiled gently. + +"About church spires?" + +The girl thought it was--chapel spires--especially French ones. + +The kindly little gentleman, being accustomed to this kind of search, +was called into counsel. + +In the end she selected a work on the old churches of Paris, which she +thought might give her the information she desired. + +"And now a third book?" + +Here she was on safer ground. The English name had caught her ear with +more precision than the foreign ones. + +"Have you got anything about a Lady Hamilton?" + +"You mean Romney's Lady Hamilton?" + +Again there was an echo from Jennie's memory. Romney was the man who +couldn't paint _her_ because he was too Georgian. She began to see how +Mrs. Collingham could play with names as she might with tennis balls. +Since there was everything else at Marillo Park, there must also be a +public library. + +Arrived at home, she secreted her volumes under her bed. She could read +at night, and by scraps in the daytime. If Ted or Gussie were to learn +that she was trying to inform her mind, they would guy her with as +little mercy as if they caught her in that still more offensive crime, +the improvement of her speech. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +That Bob Collingham was at ease in his conscience as to sailing to South +America and leaving behind him an unacknowledged wife will hardly be +supposed; but the true situation did not present itself to him till +after he and Jennie had said their good-bys. He had tried to see her +again on the following day to take counsel as to the immediate +publication of their marriage, and only her refusal to meet him had +frustrated that intention. But the more he pondered the more the thing +he had done seemed little to his credit. On the morning of the day on +which he sailed, he rose with the resolve to tell the whole truth to his +father. + +Had he known the facts, that Jennie had actually been to Collingham +Lodge, that his mother knew of the marriage, that his father, without +knowing of the marriage, was aware of his infatuation, he would have +made a clean breast of it. But the habit of domestic life being strong, +it seemed impossible to spring the confession in the middle of a +peaceful breakfast. His mother had come down to the table for this +parting meal and was already half in tears; his father concealed a +genuine emotion behind the morning paper; Edith said she wondered what +would happen to them all before they met again. The possibilities evoked +were so significant that the mother said, sharply: + +"I hope it may be God's will that we shall meet exactly as we are--a +united family." + +"We could still be a united family," Edith ventured, "and not meet +exactly as we are." + +"Edith--please!" her mother had begged, and Bob felt it out of the +question to add to her distress. + +Edith having driven to the dock with his father and himself, there was +only the slightest opportunity for a private word between the father and +the son. That came at a minute when Edith was talking to Mr. and Mrs. +Huntley on the deck of the _Demerara_. + +"Dad," Bob asked, awkwardly and abruptly, "do you feel quite at ease in +your mind as to old man Follett?" + +Passengers and their friends were pushing and jostling. Collingham was +obliged to brace himself against the rod running along the line of +cabins before he could reply. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Because I don't." + +"You don't with regard to my stand--or with regard to your own?" + +The boy looked his father in the eyes. + +"With regard to yours, dad." + +"That's very kind of you, Bob; but may I suggest that you'll have all +you can do in repenting of your own sins without trying, in addition, to +repent of mine?" + +Nevertheless, when the minute came the parting was affectionate. Neither +father nor son was satisfied with a handshake. Throwing their arms about +each other, they kissed as in the days when Bob was a little boy. + +Perhaps it was the warmth of this farewell that induced the father, on +arriving at the bank, to ask Miss Ruddick to invite Mr. Bickley to the +private office in case he should look round that afternoon. Mr. Bickley +did look round that afternoon and was accordingly ushered in. + +He was a delicately built man whose appearance produced that effect of +accuracy you get from a steel trap. Constructed to do a certain kind of +work, it can do that work and no other. Two minutes after Bickley had +looked at a man, he knew both his weak points and his aptitudes, and +could tell to a nicety the job it was best to put him to. Forehead, +nose, jaw, lips, eyes, and ears were to him as the letters of the +alphabet. More than once he had transferred a teller to the accounting +department, or made an accountant a detective by his reading of facial +lines. + +Having put his man in an armchair and given him one of the Havanas he +kept for social intercourse, Collingham waited for the mellow moment +when the cigar was smoked to half its length. + +"Do you know, Bickley," he said then, "I've never been quite at ease in +my mind about the way we shelved that old fellow, Follett. It seems to +me we showed--well, let us call it a want of consideration." + +Bickley's eyes measured what was left of his cigar as he held it out +before him horizontally. + +"Consideration for whom, Mr. Collingham?" + +"For the old man himself." + +"Oh, I didn't know but what you were going to say for your +stockholders." Before the banker could parry this thrust, the expert +went on: "I looked in yesterday at the court room where they were +trotting out that fellow Nicholson of the Wyndham National. If they'd +ever asked me, I could have told them long ago that they'd lose money by +him in the end." + +"Oh, but Follett isn't in that box." + +"He is, if you drop money by him. I'm speaking not of the ways you drop +money by a man, but only of the fact that you drop it. Your business, I +suppose, Mr. Collingham, is to make money for your shareholders and +yourself. It's to help out that, I take it, that you send for me and go +by my advice." + +"Then you'd class Follett and Nicholson together?" + +"I don't class them at all. Whether a man steals the bank's money or you +give it to him as a gift isn't to the point. My job is over when I tell +you that he gets what he doesn't earn. The rest, Mr. Collingham, is up +to you--or the district attorney, as the case may be." + +"I'm afraid I don't see it that way." + +"It's your affair, Mr. Collingham, not mine. I only venture to remind +you that we've had this little tussle over almost every man we've ever +bounced. It does great credit to your kindness of heart, and if you want +to go on supporting Follett and his family for the rest of your life--" + +Collingham winced at this hint that his kindness of heart was greater +than his business capacity. It was a point at which he always felt +himself vulnerable. + +"Speaking of Follett's family," he said, gliding away from the main +topic, "we've got that boy of his here. How is he getting on?" + +"Ah, there you have a horse of another color. My first report on him was +not so favorable; but now that we've knocked the high jinks out of +him--" + +"Oh, we've done that, have we?" + +"He's on the way to become a valuable boy. Good worker, cheery, likable. +If he can get over his one defect, he'll be worth hanging on to." + +"And his one defect is--" + +"Liable to get excited and lose his head. Type to see red in a fight, +and do something dangerous." + + ---- + +Unaware of the effort which his former employer's good will was vainly +putting forth on his behalf, Josiah arrived in front of his pair of +grassplots in Indiana Avenue. It was a trim little place, meeting all +the wishes for a roof above his head which his soul had ever formed. He +stood and looked at it, thinking of the days when little Gladys used to +play "house" beneath one of the umbrella-shaped hydrangea bushes. + +That was not so long ago--only six or eight years. It was nine since he +had bought Number Eleven, paying out three thousand dollars that had +come to him from a matured twenty years' endowment policy, together with +another thousand Lizzie had inherited from an aunt. They had thought it +a good investment because, if the worst ever came to the worst--and they +didn't know what they meant by that--they would always have a home. Now +the home was in danger because he couldn't raise a hundred and +forty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents. He had been everywhere trying +to borrow more, and he had failed. He had got to the point where his +acquaintances in the different offices were putting him down as an "old +bum." To Josiah, knowing all the shades of meaning in the term, it was a +dreadful name as applied to himself; and he had heard it that very +afternoon. An old friend, who had promised to lend him five of the +hundred and fifteen already raised, had said on seeing him approach: + +"Here comes that old bum again." + +Josiah had turned about there and then. Giving up trying any more to +raise the hundred and forty-seven, he had wandered home. He, Josiah +Follett, an old bum! + +Having hidden her three volumes under the bed, Jennie looked out and saw +him. He didn't look specially dejected, yet she knew he was. She knew it +by the way he stared at the hydrangea bush, or by the fact that he had +renounced his search for another job so early in the afternoon. Like +herself, he seemed thrown on his own resources for company, finding +little or nothing there. She ran down to meet him. She would do that +rare thing in the Follett family, take him for a walk. + +He turned with her obediently. It was a relief to him not to be obliged +to go in at once and tell Lizzie he had no good news. Lizzie was still +his great referee, as he was hers. The children were still the children, +not to be taken into confidence till there was nothing else to be done. + +But this afternoon life, for the first time, looked different. It was as +if, unaided, he couldn't carry the burden any more. There were younger +shoulders than his, and perhaps it was time now to call on them to share +the task. + +"I'm an old man, Jennie," he said, as they began to move slowly toward +Palisade Walk. "I haven't felt old till lately; but now--now I'm all in. +I don't suppose I'll ever get a chance to do a day's work again." + +When she rallied him on this, he told her the story of his day, omitting +the "old bum" incident. He must spare his children that, even if he +couldn't have been spared himself. + +This tale, delivered without emphasis, was more terrible to Jennie than +all the pangs of conscience. Had she but been true to the promises made +to Mrs. Collingham, she could have said, "Father dear, you'll never have +to worry any more." Two hours earlier, twenty-five thousand dollars had +been within her grasp, and she had let it go. "All that money," she +sighed to herself, "_and love_!" + +But since it would be within her grasp to-morrow, a new thought came to +her. The hundred dollars she would ultimately return to Bob need not be +in exactly the same bills. There was no reason why she should not use +this amount and restore it from the wealth to come. Bob couldn't +possibly tell the difference between the paper that made up one sum of a +hundred dollars and the paper that made up another. She would have +preferred to hand it back without touching it, but, in view of the +family need, fastidiousness was out of place. + +As they emerged into Palisade Walk and the vast panorama lay below them, +she slipped her arm through his. + +"Daddy," she said, caressingly, "what should you say if you saw me with +a hundred dollars?" + +To Josiah, it was the kind of question children ask when their +imaginations go off on flights. It would have been the same thing had +she said a thousand or a million. Nevertheless, he replied, more gravely +than she had expected: + +"What should I say, my dear? I should say you couldn't have come by it +honestly." + +"Oh, but if I could?" + +"It's no use talking about that, my dear, because I know you couldn't. +If you had a hundred dollars, some man would have given it to you, and +no man would give it to you unless--" + +He didn't finish the sentence, because she hurried on ahead. He reached +her only when she stood still, looking down on the river, to spring the +question prepared on second thoughts. + +"But, daddy, if I had a hundred dollars, you'd use it for the +taxes--wouldn't you?--even if I hadn't got it honestly." + +A spasm crossed his face. He laid his hand on her shoulder roughly. She +could think of nothing but the stern father of a wayward girl as she had +seen him pictured in the movies. She hadn't supposed that such dramatic +parents existed off the screen. + +"Jennie, you haven't got a hundred dollars! Tell me you haven't! Don't +let me think that the worst thing of all has overtaken us." + +Amazed as she was, her feminine quick-wittedness came to her aid. + +"Oh, you funny daddy!" she laughed, drawing his hand from her shoulder +and again slipping it through her arm. "You're not a bit good at making +pretend." + +"Excuse me, my dear," he said, humbly, as they strolled on once more. +"I'm a little nervous. I don't suppose I'll ever get a chance to do a +day's work again." + +Jennie, too, was a little nervous, though she did her best to hide the +fact. She had not expected him to take this tragically moral point of +view. It made so many new complications as to her twenty-five thousand +that she didn't know where she stood. Her mother might agree with him. +Teddy and the girls might agree with her. To act in opposition to them +all was outside her sphere of contemplation. + +Indiana Avenue was indeed not so primitive but that the subject of +ladies who chose their own way was frequently under discussion, and +Jennie had never heard much condemnation of this liberty except where +the associations were considered "low." Where, on the contrary, the +situation was on a large financial scale and carried with a lordly hand, +opinion, while not approving, was in a measure deferential. It was no +secret that Mrs. Inglis had a sister, mysteriously known as "Mrs. +Deramore," whose career had been of the most romantic; and whenever her +limousine drove up to the Inglis door, as it did perhaps twice a year, +all the women crowded to the windows to see the fair occupant get in and +out. On one occasion Jennie had heard her mother say to their next-door +neighbor, Mrs. Weatherby, "After all, with the kind of world we've got +to-day, why shouldn't she?" + +Jennie had not thought of herself as a second Mrs. Deramore. She had +hardly thought of herself at all. The combination of Hubert, love, and +the family deliverance from penury had precluded speculation as to what +she might become. She made no attempt to call up this vision even now. +The irony of a situation in which she had a small fortune tucked away in +the glove-and-handkerchief box in her top bureau drawer, and yet was +helpless to make use of it, was enough for her to deal with. + +Palisade Walk is protected by a row of small, irregular, upright +boulders like the dragon's teeth. At a spot where a low flat stone forms +a seat between two granite cones Jennie sat down sidewise to the river, +to think her situation out. Josiah, too, came to a standstill, leaning +on the stick which lifelong British habit put into his hands whenever he +went out-of-doors, and gazing at a scene whose very mightiness smote him +through and through with a sense of his futility. + +It was a view of New York which few New Yorkers know to exist, and which +those who know it to exist mainly ignore. Rio from the Pao d'Assucar, +Montreal from Mount Royal, Quebec from the St. Lawrence, San Francisco +from the Golden Gate, are all of the earth, earthy. Manhattan as viewed +from the Hudson's western bank is like the city which rose when Apollo +sang, or that beheld in the Apocalypse of John. + +From the dragon's teeth, the precipice broke in terraces and shelves +hung with ash, sumach, and stunted oak. Wherever there was a hand's +breadth of soil, a dandelion or a violet, a buttercup or a lady-fern, +nestled in the keeping of the cliff as a bird's nest on a branch. +Creepers and vines threw their tangles of tassels down to where the +chimneys clustering along the river's brink blackened them with smoke. +Small water-worn docks, sheltering nameless craft, battered, ancient, +and grotesque, crept in and out among factories and coal yards, linking +up with one another in a line of some twenty miles. Straight as the cut +of a knife, the river clove its tremendous gash from Adirondacks to +Atlantic--a leaden, shimmering, storied streak, too deep within its bed +to catch the westering sunlight. The westering sunlight itself was +silvered in the perpetual misty haze hanging over the island like an +aureole, through which the city glimmered in mile after mile of gable +and spire, of dome and cube, silent, suspended, heavenly. + +There is nothing in the world like this cloud-built vision garlanded +along the sky. No sound breaks from it, no sign of our earth-born life. +The steel-blue-gray of a gull's wing swooping above the water is gross +as compared with its texture. The violet and the lady-fern are not so +delicate as the substance of its palaces. It might be dream; it might be +mirage; it might be the city which came down from God as a bride adorned +for her husband. Beginning too far away for the eye to reach, and ending +where the gaze can no longer follow, it is immense and yet aerial, a +towered, battlemented, mighty thing, yet spun of the ether between the +worlds. + +Though Jennie and her father had looked at this mystic wraith of a city +so often that they hardly noticed it any more, they were never free from +its ecstatic influence. That is, it moved them to aspirations without +suggesting the objective to which they should aspire. Caught in the web +of daily circumstance, entangled, enmeshed, helplessly captive amid +hand-to-mouth necessities, their thoughts were rarely at liberty to +wander from the definite calculation as to how to live. They didn't so +wander even now. Even now, lifted up as they were among spiritual +splendors, food, clothes, gas, taxes, and the mortgage were the things +most heavily on their minds; but something else stirred in them with a +sluggish will to live. + +"Jennie, do you believe in God?" + +For a minute Jennie gazed sidewise at the celestial city in the air and +made no answer. Josiah himself hardly knew why he had asked the question +unless it was because of vague new fears as to Jennie's associations. Of +these he knew almost as little as the parent bird of its offspring's +doings when the young have taken flight. This was the custom of the +family, the custom of the country. But he had never been free from +misgivings that Jennie's calling of artist's model was "not +respectable," and now this mention of a hundred dollars, even though it +were but in jest, roused some little-used sense of paternal +responsibility. + +"I don't know that I do," Jennie said, at last. She added, after another +minute's thought, "What's the good of God, anyhow?" + +"People say he can take you to heaven when you die, or send you to the +other place." + +"I'm not worrying about what will happen when I die; I've got all I can +attend to here. Can God help me about that?" + +It was the test question of Josiah's inner life. His faith stood or fell +by it. He would have been glad to tell his child that she could be aided +in her earthly problems, but, unlike Job, hadn't he himself served God +for naught? + +"He don't seem able to do that, my dear," he sighed, as if the +confession of unbelief forced its way out in spite of himself. + +"Well, then"--Jennie rose, wearily--"what's the use? If God can put me +off till I die, I suppose I can put him off in the same way, can't I? Do +you believe in him, yourself, daddy?" + +"I used to." + +And that was all he could say. + +As the sun sank farther into the west, the celestial city which had +hitherto been of a luminous white was shot with rose and saffron. Within +its heart lay Broadway, Fifth Avenue, Wall Street, and the Bowery, +shops, churches, brothels, and banks, all passions, hungers, yearnings, +and ambitions, all national tendencies worthy and detestable, all human +instincts holy and unclean, all loveliness, all lust, all charity, all +cupidity, all secret and suppressed desire, all shameless exposure on +the housetops, all sorrow, all sin, all that the soul of man conceives +of evil and good--and yet, with no more than these few miles of +perspective and this easy play of light translated into beauty, +uplifting, unearthly, and ineffable. + +For a minute longer Jennie and her father looking on the vision as it +melted from glory to glory in this pageantry of sky. Then, with arms +linked as before, they turned their backs on it. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +For the next twenty-four hours Jennie did her best to suspend the +operation of thought. Thought got her nowhere. It led her into so many +blind alleys that it made her head ache. She had once heard a returned +traveler describe his efforts to get out of the labyrinth at Hampton +Court, and felt herself now in the same situation. Each way seemed easy +till she followed it and found herself balked by a hedge. + +But the fact that her head ached gave her an excuse for going to her +room and locking herself in. She could thus pull her books from beneath +the bed without fear of detection. The points as to which she needed +enlightenment being spires and Lady Hamilton, she went at her task with +the avidity of a starving person at sight of food. + +As to spires, she was quickly appeased, for her volume on the old +churches of Paris had the Sainte-Chapelle as its frontispiece. Now that +she had seen the name in print, she was sure of it. Because of being so +little taxed, her memory was the more retentive. Every sound that had +fallen from Mrs. Collingham's lips was stamped on her mind like a +footprint hardened into rock on a bit of untracked soil. Within half an +hour, she had learned the outlines of the history of the +Sainte-Chapelle, and, with some fluttering of timid vanity, had grasped +the comparison of its strong and exquisite grace with her own +personality. + +But, after all, the Sainte-Chapelle was a thing of stone, whereas Lady +Hamilton--she loved, the name--must have been of flesh and blood. Here, +too, there was a frontispiece, the very Dian of the Frick Gallery to +which Mrs. Collingham had referred. Unfortunately, the illustrations +were in black and white, so that she could get no adequate idea as to +the complexion or the color of the hair. The face, however, with its +bewitching softness, its heavenly archnesses, bore some resemblance to +her own. + +It was a shock to learn that the possessor of so much beauty, the bearer +of so melodious a title, had begun life as Emma Lyon, a servant girl, +but, after all, she reflected, the circumstance only created analogies +with herself. There were more analogies still. Emma Lyon had been an +artist's model. In an artist's studio she had made the acquaintance of +men of lofty station, just as she herself had met Bob. She had loved and +been loved. Romney was perhaps her Hubert Wray. Her career had been +exciting and dramatic--the friend of a queen, the more-than-wife of one +of the great men of the age. The tragic, miserable death didn't frighten +Jennie, since misery and tragedy always stalked on the edge of her +experience. She fell asleep amid vast, vague concepts of queens and +heroes beset with loves and problems not unlike Jennie Follett's. + +All through the next day she stilled the working of thought by +application to _The Egoist_. She took to it as to a drug. In the +intervals of her household duties, or whenever her mind became active +over her affairs, she ran to her room to begin again, "Comedy is a game +played to throw reflections upon social life, and it deals with human +nature in the drawing-room of civilized men and women, where we have no +dust of the struggling outer world, no mire, no violent clashes, to make +the correctness of the representation convincing." She got little +farther, since, for her purpose, this was far enough. She was drugged +already, as by dentist's gas. The more she read the more she felt +herself wandering sleepily through realms of dream, where words, as she +understood them, had ceased to have significance. + +So, by sheer force of will, she brought herself to that moment in the +afternoon when she stood at the studio door. She hadn't thought; she +hadn't, in her own phrase, _imagined_. She had allowed herself no +instant in which to count the cost or to shrink from paying it. Hubert, +love, and the family deliverance from poverty would be hers before +nightfall, and she meant not to look beyond. She opened the door softly. + +Before showing herself, she stopped and listened. There was not a sound. +It was often so if Hubert was painting, and the silence only assured her +that if he was there, as he probably was, he was waiting for her alone. +He was waiting for her alone with that look in his eyes, that maddened +animal look which she had seen yesterday, so bestial and yet so +compelling! Still more softly she moved forward among the studio odds +and ends. + +Then she saw--and stopped. + +In the Byzantine chair, a nude woman, seated in the manner of the +Egyptian cat-goddess, was holding up a skull. Though the woman looked +the other way, Jennie could see her as a lovely creature, straight, +strong, triumphant, and unashamed. Hubert was painting, busily, eagerly. +He raised his eyes, saw Jennie as she cowered, took no notice of her at +all, and went on with his work. It passed all that she had ever imagined +of cruelty that, as she turned to make her way out again, he should +glance up once more--and let her go. + +Hubert--and the woman _dressed like that_! The woman _dressed like +that_--in this intimacy with Hubert! She herself shut out--cast +out--sent to the devil! Some one else in her place, when she might so +easily have kept it! + +Jennie's suffering was in the dry and stony stage at which it hardly +seemed suffering at all. Yes, it did; she knew it was suffering--only, +she couldn't feel. She could think lucidly and yet put the whole +situation away from her for the reason that it would keep. Anguish would +keep; tears would keep. She could postpone everything, since she had all +the rest of her life to give to its contemplation. Just for the present, +the memory of the woman in the chair with _Hubert looking at her_ was so +scorching to the mind that she could do nothing but snatch her faculties +away from it. + +Coming to Fifth Avenue and seeing an electric bus stop near the curb, +she climbed into it. It was the old story of not knowing where to go or +what to do once her simple round of habits had been upset. Snuggled +close to a window, she could at least be jolted along without effort of +her own while she still fought off the consciousness of the frightful +thing that had happened. It was not merely Hubert and the woman; it was +everything. So much was included that she couldn't bear to think of this +ruin to her beautiful house of cards. + +Such wealth and beauty in the shop windows! Such streams of people in +their new spring clothes! She had heard it said that every heart had its +bitterness, but she didn't think that that could be possible. If +everyone had a heartache like hers, or even the memory of such a +heartache, it would make too monstrous a world, too deplorable a human +race. After all, there must be _some_ sense in the presence of mankind +on earth, and if all were kicked about and bruised, there would be none. +She preferred to think that the people on the pavements and in the +limousines were as happy as they looked, and that she alone was selected +for bewilderment and pain. + +She wondered where she was going. There was a ferry far up on the +Riverside Drive which would take her across to New Jersey, and thence, +by a combination of trolley-cars, she could work her way southward to +Pemberton Heights. This would consume an hour and more, and so eat up +part of the afternoon. What she would do when she arrived home with her +dreams all shattered God alone knew. If she could only have seen her +friend, Mrs. Collingham, clinging to that kind hand as she poured out +her heart.... + +Just then a huge building came into sight on the left, and with it a new +impulse. She had often meant to visit it, though the day never seemed to +come. Gussie had once gone to the Metropolitan Museum in company with +Sadie Inglis, since when she had been in the habit of saying that she +had as good as taken a trip abroad. Jennie didn't want a trip abroad; +she wanted soothing, comforting, affection. She wanted another drop of +that experienced, womanly sympathy, instinct with kindliness and +knowledge of the world which she had tasted for the first and only time +on that blissful afternoon at Collingham Lodge. + +[Illustration: _JENNIE, YOU HAVEN'T GOT A HUNDRED DOLLARS! TELL ME YOU +HAVEN'T!_] + +It was to get nearer to Collingham Lodge that she left the bus to drag +herself up the long flight of steps and into the vast, cool hall. There +were others going in, chiefly the Slavs and Italians for whom she felt a +legitimate Anglo-Saxon contempt, so that she had nothing to do but to +follow them. Thus she found herself at the top of another long flight of +steps, gazing about her in an awe that soon became an intoxicating sense +of beauty. + +It was Jennie's first approach to beauty on this scale of immensity and +variety. It was her first draught of Art. Her childhood's poring over +_Ancient Rome Restored_ had given her a feeling for line and economy, +but she had never dreamed that color, substance, and texture could be +used with this daring, profuse creativeness. Having no ability to seize +details, she drifted helplessly up and down aisles of splendor and +gleam. Here there were gold and silver, here was tapestry, here crystal, +here enamel. The pictures were endless, endless. She could no more deal +with them than with a sunset. Life came to the Scarborough tradition in +her as it does to a frozen limb, with distress and yet with an element +of ecstasy. A soul that had passed to a higher plane of existence, whom +there was no one to welcome and guide, might have ventured timidly into +the celestial land as Jennie among these lovely things outside her +comprehension. + +She came to herself, as it were, on hearing a man's voice say, in a kind +of tone and idiom with which she was familiar: + +"Have you looked at this Cellini now? That's the only authentic bit of +Cellini in the United States. There's six or seven other pieces in +different museums that people says is Cellini, but there's always a +hitch in the proof." + +Turning, she saw a stocky man in custodian's uniform who was addressing +a group of Italians, two bareheaded women, three children between ten +and fifteen, and a man. All were interested. All studied the gold shell +with its dragon-shaped handle in purplish enamel. They commented, +criticized, appraised, even the children pointing out excellencies to +one another. When they had drifted away, Jennie turned to the kindly +Irishman, who, by dint of living with beauty, had grasped its spirit, +and put a hesitating question. She asked him to repeat the name of the +gold-smith, pronouncing it after him till she registered it on her mind +as she had that of Lady Hamilton. + +"Sure, there was an artist for you," the custodian went on. "The breed +is dead and gone. Hot-timpered fellow, though. Had more mistresses and +killed more men than you could count. Should read about him in a book he +wrote himself." He looked at Jennie from the corner of an eye, +accustomed to "size up" an individual here and there among the thousands +who floated daily through his little domain, apparently finding in her +something that merited further favors. "Are you wise to this Memling?" +he asked, leading the way to a corner of the wall where hung a small +portrait. "There's only two other men in the wor-rld that could have +painted that head, and that's Holbein and Rembrandt. Memling himself +never did it but just that wance." + +Jennie looked, registering Memling's name. It was the head of an elderly +man; so living, kindly, and humorous that she loved him. When she turned +to her guide he stood with a smile of curiosity, like that of a mother +showing her baby to a friend. + +"What d'ye say to that now?" + +Jennie said what she could--that it was marvelous, but that she didn't +know anything about art. Since he was so kind, she ventured, however, on +another question. Did the museum contain a portrait of Lady Hamilton? + +He pursed up his nose. Not a good one. Not a Romney. There was one in +gallery twenty-four, but it was by John Opie, of whom he had no high +opinion. In comparison with Romney, he thought Opie big and coarse, but, +since there was nothing better to be seen, Jennie might choose to glance +at this second-rate specimen. + +"And I'll tell you another thing," he went on, confidentially. "You're +not used to looking at pictures and such like, are you, now?" + +Jennie said she was not. + +"Well, then, go to gallery twenty-four. Find your Opie, which you'll see +hanging over one of the doors--and don't look at anything else. You'll +have seen all you can absor-rb in wan day. Come back to-morrer, or anny +other toime, and come straight to me. You'll find me here, and I'll tell +you what to look at next. But don't take more to-day than you can +enjoy." + +He walked with her till she reached the boundary of his realm. + +"You look like a gur-rl that'd have an eye and a taste for beauty. You +don't find them often among Americans, and when you do it's a god-send. +Poles, Jews, Russians, yes. When the French and Italian officers was in +New York, their eyes 'd fairly eat the museum up. But Americans--they +don't know and they don't want to know--not wan in a hundred thousand. +Well, good-day to you and good luck. I'm always here, and I'm just the +wan to tell you which is the things to pick out." + +But by the time she discovered her Lady Hamilton she had only the +courage to note listlessly that the hair _was_ somewhat the color of her +own--not chestnut, not russet, not copper, not red-gold, but perhaps a +combination of them all. She had reached her limitations unexpectedly. +The tide she had dammed had burst its barriers and rushed in on her. She +sank to a chair in the middle of the almost empty room, her eyes blinded +by sudden tears. + +Hubert was still with that woman! The woman was perhaps resting now and +they were talking! She would be so much at her ease that she would talk +without taking the trouble to throw her wrap round her. Hubert, too, +would be at ease, preferring her without her wrap rather than with it. +In vain she reminded herself that the situation was one to which an +artist was accustomed. She hadn't been in a studio for a year without +learning that much, though she got no comfort from it now. No comfort +was possible with the vision of this naked magnificence seared on her +memory. Hubert had let her come without a welcome, and go without a +protest. He was probably glad when she went so that he might be alone +with this wanton who didn't know shame. + +In the end, she saw but one course before her. She would make the best +of Bob. To do so would mean that Bob would be disinherited by his ogre +of a father, but with Mrs. Collingham's aid a counteracting influence +might be found. Moreover, she could thus return home, confess herself +Bob's wife, and offer the hundred dollars to her father as cash lawfully +her own. Life would be simplified in this way, even though happiness +were dead. + +She was the last of the commuting family to reach the house that +evening, and on crossing the threshold was greeted with a sense of +cheer. It did not mean much to her at first, for, with the optimism of a +hand-to-mouth existence, a sense of cheer was the last thing the family +ever abandoned. She herself cast all outward air of trouble away from +her on opening the door, because it was in the tradition. + +Her father was seated quietly smoking his pipe, which he had not done +for the past week or more. Gussie held the middle of the floor, her arms +extended in a serpentine wave, humming a dance tune and practicing the +step. To mark the rhythm, Gladys was clapping her hands with a slow, +tom-tom beat. Pansy alone stood apart, blinking and unresponsive, as if +for reasons of her own she considered this mirth ill-timed. + +"Look, Jen!" Gladys giggled, as her eldest sister passed down the room. +"This is the new thing at the Washington. Gus has got it so you wouldn't +know her from Samarine herself." + +Jennie went on to the kitchen, where, as she expected, her mother was +getting the supper, and did her best to be nonchalant. + +"Hello, momma! What's the good word? What makes everyone so gay?" + +Lizzie looked up, a cover in one hand and a spoon in the other. Her face +was so radiant that Jennie was still more mystified. + +"Oh, Jennie darling, your father has the money! He can make the payment +to-morrow, and everything will come right." + +So Jennie's plans recoiled upon herself. She had meant to tell her +mother here and now that for four days past she had been Bob +Collingham's wife, and had a hundred dollars in her top bureau drawer. +Her mother was to tell her father, and her father Teddy and the girls. +But now--well, what would be the use? By keeping her secret she might +put off inevitable fate a little longer. + +"Who lent it?" Jennie asked, after she had chosen her line of action. + +"Nobody; that's the wonderful part of it. It's a hundred and fifty +dollars Teddy has earned." + +"'Earned!' How?" + +"Selling bonds for a man he knows. He doesn't want anything said about +it, because it's what he calls 'on the side.' If the house knew of +it--that he was working in off times for some one else--he might lose +his job. But, oh, Jennie, isn't it wonderful?" + +Jennie thought it wonderful for other reasons than Teddy's glory and the +peace of the family mind. It was less easy to renounce Hubert than it +had been an hour or two earlier. If he snapped his fingers she had said +to herself, while crossing the ferry, she would run to him like a dog, +in spite of everything; and if she did it, she would want to be free +from the complications that must ensue if she were to proclaim herself +Bob's wife. + +Having assented to her mother's praise of Teddy, she went back through +the living room and on upstairs to take off her hat and coat. Near the +top of the stairs, the door of the bathroom opened suddenly and Teddy +appeared in his shirt sleeves. There being nothing unusual in that, she +was about to say, "Hello, Ted!" and ascend the few remaining steps to +her room. + +But seeing her moving upward in the dim hall light, Teddy started back +within the bathroom, and, with a movement he couldn't control, slammed +the door noisily. The action was so odd that she called out to him: + +"It's only me, goose! What's the matter with you? Have you got the +jumps?" + +The door opened and Teddy reappeared, grinning sheepishly. + +"I--I didn't have my coat on," was the only explanation he could find. + +"Dear, dear!" Jennie threw over her shoulder, as she passed into her own +room. "We've got terribly modest all of a sudden, haven't we?" + +But weeks later she recalled this lame excuse. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +During the next few days, Wray snapped his fingers twice, and on each +occasion Jennie ran to him like a dog, as she had foreseen she would. + +The first time was in response to a telegram. The telegram said, simply: + + Studio Thursday, 3 P.M. + +There was no signature, but Jennie knew what it meant. By one o'clock +she was dressing feverishly; by two, she had said good-by to her mother +and was on her way. She was not thinking of her twenty-five thousand +dollars now, or of any offering up of herself. Her one objective was to +drive that woman from the Byzantine chair so that Hubert shouldn't look +at her again. + +But she had not got out of Indiana Avenue on her way to the trolley car +when something happened which had never happened in her life before. She +received another telegram, the second in one day. The messenger boy, who +was a neighbor's son, had hailed her from across the street. + +"Hello, Jennie! Are you Miss Jane Scarborough Follett? That's a name and +a half, ain't it?" + +Her first thought was that Hubert was wiring to put her off because he +wanted the other woman, after all. Her second, that he had already +addressed her as "Miss Jennie Follett," and she doubted if he knew her +full baptismal name. Only in one connection had it been used of late, +and that recollection made her tremble. + +This message, too, was unsigned, and, being so, it puzzled her: + + Always close to you in spirit and loving you. + +That wasn't like Hubert--and Bob was on the sea. + +She walked slowly, reading it again and again, till her eyes caught the +address in a corner--Havana. She remembered then that the _Demerara_ was +to touch at that port, and understood. Crushing the telegraphic slip +into the bottom of her handbag, she made her way to the square and took +her place in the car. + +As she jolted down the face of the cliff she wished that this message +hadn't come till after her return from the studio. Then it wouldn't have +mattered. It would have been too late to matter. Not that it mattered +now--only, that the way in which Bob expressed himself made her feel +uneasy. "Always close to you in spirit." She didn't want him to be close +to her in any way, but in spirit least of all. Latterly, she had heard +Mrs. Weatherby, a convert to some school of New Thought, discourse on +the unreality of separations and the bridging power of spirit, and while +these ideas made no appeal to her, they endued Bob's telegram with a +ghostly creepiness. If he was close to her in spirit on an errand like +the present one.... + +So she turned back from the very studio door. She couldn't go in. She +couldn't so much as put her hand on the knob. Knowing that Hubert was +within a few yards of her, eager to be hers as she was to be his, she +crept guiltily down the stairs. + +She cried all night from humiliation and repentance. It was as if Bob +had laid a spell on her. Unless she could break it, her life would be +ruined. + +But the opportunity to break it came no later than the very next day. +Chancing to look out into Indiana Avenue, she saw Hubert scanning Number +Eleven from the other side of the street. He must indeed want to see +her, since he had taken this journey into the unknown. + +Picking up a sunshade, she went out and spoke to him. He refused to come +in, but begged her to take a little walk. + +"Jennie, what's your game?" he asked, roughly, as they sauntered down +the avenue toward the edge of the cliff. "Why don't you come to the +studio when I ask you? What are you afraid of?" + +"I did come--the other day--but--" + +"Why didn't you stay? I thought you would. Brasshead wouldn't have +minded it, and you could have seen how the thing is done." + +"What's the good of seeing how it's done when--when you've got some one +else?" + +"But, good Lord! Jennie, this is not the only picture of the kind I +shall ever paint! Even if I go on using Emma for this, I shall want you +for another one--and I'm not sure that I shall go on using Emma. Do you +see?" + +She was so perturbed that she launched on a question without knowing +what she meant to ask. + +"Isn't she--" + +"Oh, she's all right as far as the figure goes. Features coarse. Not a +bit what I'm trying to get. Have to keep toning down and modifying to +give her the spiritual look that you've got, Jennie, to throw away. I +keep thinking of you all the time I'm doing it. Look here, if you'll +come to-morrow, I'll pay Brasshead off and you shall have the job." + +By the time they reached Palisade Walk the business was settled on a +business basis. Not once did he depart from the professional side of the +affair, and not once did she allude to the scene in her dressing-room. +But what was understood was understood, not less certainly for its being +by passionate mental vibration, without a word, or a glance, or a +pressure of the hand. + +But the next day, as Jennie was leaving the house to keep her +appointment, Josiah, who had gone out as usual to look for work, had +dragged himself home and fainted at the door. + +"I'm all in," he mumbled, on his return to consciousness. "I don't +suppose I shall ever get a chance to do a day's work again." + +Jennie was so much alarmed that she forgot to telephone her inability to +go to the studio till after her father had been put to bed and the +doctor had come and gone. + +"Oh, it's all right," Hubert had said, listlessly. "I didn't expect you. +I knew that if it wasn't one excuse, it would be another--" + +"But I _will_ come," Jennie had interrupted, tearfully. + +"Do just as you like about that. Emma's here, and, as you're so +uncertain, I've decided to go on and finish the picture without making a +change." + +He put up the receiver on saying this, so that Jennie was left all in +the air with her love and her distress. + +When Teddy appeared that evening, it was she who told him of their +father's breakdown. + +"The doctor says it's worry," she explained, "and lack of nutrition. He +says he must stay in bed a week, and we've got to feed him up and not +let him worry again." + +Teddy's face grew longer and longer. + +"Then we'll have to have more money." + +"You poor Ted, yes; but then you're making money on the side, aren't +you?" + +Reminding himself, as he did a hundred times a day, that Nicholson had +had five years in which to get away with it, Teddy passed on upstairs to +his father's bedside. + +"It's all right, dad," he tried to smile. "Don't you worry. I'm here. +I'll take care of ma and the girls. You just make your mind easy and +give yourself up to getting well." + +Jennie's attendance at the studio was thus put out of the question for +many days, and in the meantime she had a letter posted at Havana. +Fearing that it would come and attract attention in the family, she +watched the postman, getting it one morning before breakfast. Bob wrote: + + There is a love so big and strong and sure that separations mean + nothing to it, because it fills the world. That's my kind of + love, Jennie darling. You can't get out of it--I can't get out + of it--even if we would. At this very minute I'm sailing and + sailing; but I'm not being carried farther away from you. The + love in which you and I are now leading our lives is wider than + the great big circle made by the horizon. Don't forget that, + dear. I'm always with you. Love doesn't recognize distance. Love + isn't physical or geographical. It's force, power, influence. I + love you so much that I know I can keep you safe even though I'm + on the other side of the world. I can't fend troubles away from + you, worse luck, but I can carry you through them. I know that + till I come back you'll be having a hard time; but my love will + hang round you like an enchanted cloak, and nothing will really + get at you. You're always wearing that cloak, Jennie; you always + walk with it about you. + +While Jennie was reading this, Edith Collingham, at breakfast at Marillo +Park, was springing a question on her father. She sprang it at breakfast +because it was the only time she was sure of seeing him alone. + +"Father, how far are children obliged to marry or not to marry in +deference to their parents' wishes, and how far have fathers and mothers +the right to interfere?" + +Dauphin, who was on his haunches near his master's knee, removed himself +to a midway position between the two ends of the table, as if he felt +that in the struggle he perceived to be coming he couldn't throw his +influence with either side. Through the open window Max could be seen in +perpetual motion on the lawn, yet pausing every two minutes to look +wistfully down the avenue in the hope of some loved approach. + +Without answering at once, Collingham tapped an egg with a spoon. The +broaching of so personal a question between one of his children and +himself was something new. It had been an established rule in the +household that, however free the intercourse between the boy and the +girl and their mother, the approach to their father was always indirect. +Junia had made it her lifelong part to explain the children to their +father and the father to his children, but rarely to give them a chance +of explaining themselves to each other. Collingham had acquiesced in +this for the reason that the duties of a parent were not those for which +he felt himself, in his own phrase, specially "cut out." + +The duties for which he did feel himself cut out were those that had to +do with the investment of money. On this ground, he spoke with +authority; he was original, intuitive, inspired. When it came to a flair +for the stock which was selling to-day at fifty and which to-morrow +would be worth five hundred, he belonged to the _illuminati_. This being +the highest use of intelligence known to man, he felt it his duty to +specialize in it to the exclusion of everything else. + +As already hinted, there were two Collinghams. There was the natural +man, a kindly, generous fellow who would never have made a big position +in the world; and there was the other Collingham, standardized to the +accepted, forceful, American-business-man pattern, and who, now that he +was sixty-odd, was the Collingham who mainly had the upper hand. + +Mainly, but not completely. The natural Collingham often made timid +attempts to speak and had to be stifled. He was being stifled while the +standardized Collingham tapped his egg. It was the pupil of Junia, +Bickley, and the business world who finally sought to gain time by +asking a counter-question. + +"What do you want to know for?" + +Edith was prepared for this. + +"Because I may make a marriage that you and mother wouldn't like; and I +think it possible that Bob may do the same." + +Whatever the natural Collingham might have said to this, the man who had +been evolved from him could have but one response. + +"People who act on their own responsibility should be prepared to go the +whole hog." + +Edith sipped her coffee while she worked out the significance of this. + +"Does that mean that you wouldn't give us any money?" + +"Rather that, being so extremely independent, you wouldn't ask for it." + +"Oh, ask for it--no; and yet--" + +"And yet you think I ought to hand it out." + +"I was thinking rather of a kind of _noblesse oblige_--" + +"In which all the _noblesse_ must be mine." + +"Not exactly that. In which perhaps the _noblesse_ should be _ours_. +Even if I should marry a poor man, I can't help being a Collingham, a +member of a family with large ideas and a large way of living." + +"Yes; but, you see, you'd be giving them up." + +"You can't give up what's been bred into you. And in my case I should be +bringing the man--you must let me say it, dad--I should be bringing the +man I--I _love_--so little--" + +"He's probably counting on a great deal. Poor men who marry rich men's +daughters generally do." + +"I was going to say that while he'd be giving me so much, all I could +offer him would be money; and if I didn't bring that--" + +"Well? Go on." + +"If I didn't bring that, I should feel so humiliated before him--" + +He affected an ignorance which was not a fact. + +"Who _is_ this paragon, anyhow?" + +"I thought mother might have told you. It's Mr. Ayling." + +"Oh, that teacher fellow!" + +"He's more than that, dad. He's a professor in one of our greatest +universities. He's a writer beginning to be recognized as having ideas. +He has a position of his own--" + +"Yes; but only an intellectual one." + +She raised her eyebrows. + +"'Only'?" + +He straightened himself and prepared for business. + +"Look here, Edith, don't kid yourself. An intellectual position in this +country is no position at all. The American people have no use for the +intellectual, and they've made that plain." + +She could hardly express her amazement. + +"Why, dad! There's no country in the world where people go in more for +education, where there are more men who go to colleges--" + +"Yes--to fit them for making money, not to turn them into highbrows. You +must have a spade to dig a garden, but it's the garden you're proud of, +not the spade." + +"And the very President of the country--" + +"Is what you call an intellectual man; but that's a bit of chance. He's +not President because he was a college professor, but because he was a +politician. If he hadn't been a politician--something that the country +values--he'd still be rotting in some two-by-three university. Listen, +Edith!" He emphasized his point by the movement of his forefinger. +"We've a rule in business which is the test of everything. So long as +you stick to it you can't go wrong in your estimates. _The value of a +thing is as much money as it will bring._ You know the value of the +intellectual in American eyes the minute you think of what the American +people is willing to pay for it. You say your intellectual man has a +position of his own. Well, you can see how big the position is by what +he earns. He doesn't earn enough decently to support a wife, and so long +as the American people have anything to say to it, he never will. You +can box the whole compass of fellows who live by their wits--teachers, +writers, journalists, artists, musicians, clergymen, and the whole tribe +of them. We don't want them in this country, except as you want a spade +and a hoe in your tool-house. When they try to get in, we starve them +out; and, Collingham as you are, once you've married this fellow you'll +go with your gang." He pushed back his chair and rose. "That's all I've +got to say. Think it over." As he passed out through the French window +to the terrace beyond he snapped his fingers. "Dauphin, come along!" + +But, perhaps for the first time in his life, Dauphin didn't immediately +follow him. Instead, he went first to Edith, laying his long nozzle in +her lap. + +For five or ten minutes, as Collingham smoked his morning cigar while +visiting the stables, the garage, and the kitchen garden, the natural +man tried to raise his voice. + +"Why didn't you say, 'Marry your man, Edith, my child, and I'll give you +ten thousand a year?' Poor little girl," this first Collingham went on, +"she's so frank and true and high spirited! You've made her unhappy when +you could so easily have made her glad." + +"You said what any other American father in your position would have +said," the pupil of Bickley and Junia argued, on the other side. "True, +you've made her unhappy, but young people often have to be made unhappy +in order that the foolish dictates of the heart may be repressed. There +are millions of people all over the world whose lives would have been +spoiled if such early emotional impulses hadn't been thwarted." + +And, after all, it was true that the intellectual was not respected. The +public pretended that it was, but when it came to the test of social and +financial reward--the only rewards there were--the pretense was +apparent. There were no intellectual people at Marillo Park; there were +none whom he, Collingham, knew in business. There were men with brains; +but to distinguish them from the intellectual they were described as +brainy. Edith as the wife of an intellectual man would be +self-destroyed; and it was his duty as her father to stop, if he could, +that self-destruction. + +By the time he had reached the point in his morning ritual which brought +him to Junia's bedside, he was standardized again, even though it was +with a bleeding heart. He could more easily suffer a bleeding heart than +he could the fear of not being an efficient man of business. + +"What use have you had for the twenty-five thousand I've paid in your +account?" he asked, before he kissed her good-by. + +She concealed her anxiety that so many days had passed without a sign +from Jennie under an air of nonchalance. + +"No use as yet, but I expect to have. I shall let you know when the time +comes." + +But no sign could come from Jennie, for the reason that her father died +in mid-July, and during the intervening weeks she was tied to his +bedroom. As the eldest daughter and the only one at home, all her other +functions were absorbed in those of nurse. Luckily, there was money in +the house, for Teddy had been successful in his efforts "on the side," +and Bob continued to transmit small sums to herself, which she added to +the hundred dollars in the top bureau drawer. Bob, Hubert, Collingham +Lodge, her ambition, and her love became unreal and remote as she +watched the setting of the sun to which her being had been turned. In +the eyes of others, Josiah might be feeble and a failure, but to Teddy +and his sisters he was their father, the pivot of their lives, the +nearest thing to a supreme being they had known. + +Lizzie's grief was different. Her heart didn't ache because he was +dying. Life having become what it was, he was better dead. If she could +have died herself, she would have gone to her rest gladly, had it not +been for the children. For their sake, she remained sweet, calm, active, +brewing and baking, sweeping and cleaning, sitting up at night with +Josiah while they were asleep, and hiding the fact that instead of a +heart she felt nothing within her but a stone. + +Her grief was not for Josiah; it was for the futility of the best things +human beings could bring to life. Honesty, industry, thrift, devotion, +ambition, and romance had been the qualifications with which Josiah +Follett and Lizzie Scarborough had faced the world; and this was the +best the world could do with them. "It isn't as if we ever faltered or +refused or turned aside," she mused to herself, as she hurried from one +task to another. "We've been absolutely faithful. We've had pluck in the +face of every discouragement and eaten ashes as if it were bread, and, +in the end, we come to this. It makes no difference that we didn't +deserve it; we get it just the same." + +Josiah's wanderings as his mind grew feebler turned forever round one +central theme: A job! a job! To be allowed to work! To have a chance to +earn a living! It was his kingdom of heaven, his forgiveness of sins, +his paradise of God. In the middle of night he would open his eyes and +say: + +"I've got a job, Lizzie. Fifty a week!" + +"Yes, yes," Lizzie would say, drawing the sheet about his shoulders. +"Yes, yes; you'll go to town in the morning. Now turn over, dear, and go +to sleep again." + +These excitements were generally in the small hours of the morning. By +day, he was less cheerful. + +"I'm all in, Jennie darling," he would say then. "I don't suppose I'll +ever get a chance to do a day's work again." + +But one hot afternoon in the middle of July he woke from a long sleep +with a look that startled her. Jennie had never seen the approach of +death, but, now that she did, she knew it could be nothing else. He had +simply rolled over on his back, staring upward with eyes that had become +curiously glassy and sightless. Jennie ran to the head of the stairs. + +"Momma! Momma! Come quick!" + +He said nothing till Lizzie had reached the bedside. Though he didn't +move his head or look toward her, he seemed to know that she was there. + +"Here's mother, Lizzie." He raised his hands, while a look of glad +surprise stole over his face. "There's a country," he stammered on, +brokenly, "no, it isn't a country--it's like a town--they're +working--they've got work for me--and--and they're never--they're +never--fired." + +The hands fell, but the look of glad surprise was only shut out of sight +by the coffin lid. + +Teddy paid for the lot in the cemetery, as well as the other expenses of +the funeral, within a week of his father's death. "Now I'm through," he +said to himself, with a long sigh of relief. + +"You darling Ted," was Jennie's commendation. "You must have given momma +five hundred dollars at least. Now I hope you'll be able to save a +little for yourself." + +At the bank, Teddy's younger colleagues were sympathetic, Lobley +especially doing him kindly little turns. He asked him to supper one +evening at a restaurant, where they talked of marksmanship, at which +Teddy had been proficient in the navy. He was out of practice now, he +said, to which Lobley had replied that it was a pity. He, Lobley, had an +automatic pistol illegally at home, and if Teddy would like to borrow it +he could soon bring himself back to his old form. Teddy did so like, and +went back to Pemberton Heights with the thing secreted on his person. It +went with him to the bank next day--and every day. + +For Teddy had begun to notice symptoms to which one less keenly +suspicious would be blind. Nothing was ever said of money missing, and +no hint thrown out that he himself was not trusted as before. He had +nothing to go on except that Mr. Brunt became more taciturn than ever, +and once or twice he thought he was being watched. The eyes of Jackman, +the principal house detective, wandered often toward him, and twice he, +Teddy, had seen Jackman in conference with Flynn. + +"They'll never get me alive," was his inner consolation, though +immediate suicide suggested itself as an alternative, and flight, +disappearance, an absolute blotting out was a third expedient. + +Yet nothing was sure; nothing was even remotely sure. By becoming too +jumpy he might easily give himself away. Nicholson had had five years. +In two years, in one, Teddy meant to be square with the bank again. + +But one afternoon, as he emerged into Broad Street on his way home, +Jackman and Flynn were talking together on the opposite pavement. The +boy jumped back, though not before he saw Jackman make a sign to Flynn +which said as plainly as words, "There he is now." + +To Teddy, it was the end of the world. All the past, all the future, +merged into this single second of terror. He looked across at them; they +looked across at him. There was a degree of confession in the very way +in which his blanched face stared at them through the intervening +crowds. + +Jackman's lips formed half a dozen syllables, emphasized by a nod and a +lifting of the brows. + +"That's the guy all righty," were the words Teddy practically heard. + +Like a startled wild thing, he had but one impulse--to run. Actual +running in Broad Street at that hour of the day being out of the +question, he dived into the procession mounting toward Wall Street, +ducking, dodging, pushing, almost knocking people down, and mad with +fear. "They'll never get me alive," he was saying to himself; but how in +that crowd to find space in which to turn the pistol to his heart +already puzzled him. + +At the corner of Wall Street he summoned courage to look over his +shoulder. They might not be after him. If not, it would prove a false +alarm, such as he had had before. But there they were--Jackman +scrambling laboriously up the other side of Broad Street, and Flynn +crossing it, picking his way among the vans and motor cars. + +Like a frightened rabbit, Teddy scurried on again, meaning to gain +Nassau Street and somehow double on his tracks. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +But Teddy did not double on his tracks in Nassau Street, for the reason +that, in again looking over his shoulder, he saw that Flynn had taken +one side of that thoroughfare and Jackman the other. They were burly +men, who moved heavily, while he, in spite of his stocky build, glided +in and out among the pedestrians with the agility of a squirrel. He was +putting distance between himself and them, and five minutes' leeway +would be enough for him. All he needed was the space and privacy in +which to shoot himself. + +At the corner of John Street he turned to the left and made toward +Broadway. They would expect him to do this, his chief hope being that +among the homing swarms they would already have lost sight of him. His +mind was not working. He was not looking ahead, even over the few +minutes he had still to live. All his instincts were fused into the fear +of the hand of the law on his person. It was like Jennie's terror of the +hand of a man she didn't love--a frenzy for physical sanctity stronger +than the fear of death. + +At the same time, he couldn't run the risk of being more noticeable than +the majority of people going his way. As he pushed and dodged, a young +man whom he had jostled called out, in ironic good humor, "Say, is the +cop after you?" at which Teddy almost lost his head. He expected a crowd +to gather, and three or four men to hold him by the arms till Jackman +and Flynn came up. But nothing happened. The protesting young man was +lost in the scramble, and he, Teddy, found himself in Broadway. + +Paying no heed to the jam of street cars, lorries, private cars, and +motor trucks, he dashed into the interlaced streams of traffic. He +dashed--and was held up. He dashed again--and was held up a second time. +He was held up a third time, a fourth, and a fifth. With every spurt of +two or three feet, cries warned him and curses startled him. "Say, +sonny, your ma must have lost you," came from a jocose chauffeur beside +whose machine Teddy had been brought to a halt. "I'd damn well like to +run over you," shouted the driver of a van who had narrowly escaped +doing it. Teddy wished he had. If he could only be sure of being killed, +it might have been the easiest way out. + +Reaching the opposite pavement, he had time to see that Jackman had +crossed lower down and more easily than he, and was lumbering toward him +from the downtown direction. Jackman could have shouted to the +passers-by to lay hold of Teddy, only that, from a distance and among +such numbers, he couldn't indicate his victim. Being younger than Flynn +and of lighter build, he could move in his own way almost with Teddy's +rapidity. The boy didn't dare to run, because the action would have +marked him out, but he started again on his snakelike gliding between +pedestrians. He must gain some doorway, some cellar, some hole of any +sort, in which to draw his pistol. He would have drawn it there and +then, only that a hundred hands would have seized him. + +All at once he saw the open portal of a great mercantile building, +leading to a vast interior with which he was familiar. There were +several exits and many floors. Once he had turned in here, he could +cross the scent. In he went, with scores who were doing likewise, +passing scores who were coming out. His first intention was to avoid the +conspicuous exit toward Dey Street and make for the less obvious one +into Fulton Street; but in doing that, he passed a line of some twenty +lifts, of which one was about to close its door. He slipped into it like +a hare into its warren. The door clanged; the lift moved upward with an +oily speed. Among his companions he was hot, flurried, breathless, and +yet not more so than any other young clerk who had been doing an errand +against time. + +There were nearly thirty floors, and he got off at the twenty-third. He +chose the twenty-third so as not to get off too soon, and yet not call +attention to himself by remaining in the lift when most of its occupants +had left it. The floor was spacious and almost empty. A few people were +waiting for a lift to take them down; a few were going in and out of +offices, but otherwise he had the place to himself. + +Mechanically he walked to a window and looked out. He seemed to be up in +the sky, with only the tops of a few giant cubes on a level with +himself. "Skyscrapers" they were called, and skyscrapers they seemed up +here even more than down below. The tip of the great city, the stretches +of the bay, the green slopes of Staten Island, and the far-off colossal +woman with a torch were all within his vision, with the oblique strip +that was Broadway, a tiny, ugly gash in which bacteria were squirming, +deep down and cutting across the foreground. + +Except for the dull roar that came up and the clang of an occasional +footstep along the hallways, it was so still and pleasant that the need +to shoot himself seemed for the minute less insistent. It would have to +be done sooner or later, but when it comes to suicide, even a few +minutes' respite is something. He could have done the thing right there +and then by the window, where the few people within hearing would have +run to him at sound of the shot. If the shot didn't kill him, they would +keep him from firing another. Publicity, distasteful in itself, might +lead to ineffectuality. + +He must find a lavatory, and so began walking up and down the corridors, +looking at doors discreetly placed in corners. When he came to his +objective, it was locked. Again it was reprieve. The same door would be +on other floors, but he was not ready for the moment to forsake his +shelter. It was true that at any minute Flynn and Jackman might emerge +from the lift, but there were nearly thirty chances that if they had +followed him so closely they would not select this landing. Even more +were the chances that they had not seen him slip into the building at +all. + +Fevered and thirsty, he stooped to drink at the fountain crowning the +head of a little bronze woman with a pair of dolphins on her shoulders. +She seemed to be of Maya type, and a uniformed guardian had once told +him that a great modern sculptor had molded her. With a difference in +dolphins, she was repeated on every floor, forever diademed in water. + +Teddy's mind had so far suspended operation as to his immediate plight +that he went back to the morning, seven or eight months previously, when +an errand from Mr. Brunt had brought him into the great ground-floor +atrium, revealing the Basilica Julia or the Basilica Emilia of _Ancient +Rome Restored_ right there in lower Broadway. Simplicity, immensity, the +awesome beauty of mere form! The wide spaces, the mighty columns, the +tempered white light of majestic Roman windows! The absence of striving +for effect! The peace, the restfulness, the cheerfulness, when striving +for effect are abandoned, dwarfing the magnitude of crowds and reducing +their ebbings and flowing to mere vanity! Like Jennie with her emotions, +like Pansy with her intuitions, Teddy had no words for these +impressions; but the Scarborough tradition, nursed on _Ancient Rome +Restored_, vibrated to their music. + +"And here I am, trapped like a rat in a hole!" + +So he came back to it. He wondered if he were awake. Was it possible +that ten or fifteen minutes could have transformed him from a +hard-working, home-loving boy into a fugitive who had no choice left but +to shoot himself? As for facing the disgrace, he did not consider it. To +stand before his mother charged with theft, even if it was on her +behalf, was not to be thought of. He couldn't do it, and there was an +end to it. Still less could he go through the other incidentals, +handcuffs, a cell, the court, the sentence, Bitterwell, and the lifetime +that would come after his release. He could put the pistol to his heart +and, if necessary, he could burn in hell--if there was a hell; but he +couldn't do the other thing. + +And yet to put the pistol to his heart and burn in hell formed a +lamentable choice on their side. + +"I'm not a thief," he protested, inwardly. "I took the money--how could +I help it, with dad sick and ma at the end of everything?--but _I'm not +a thief_." + +He was sure of that. It became a formula, not perhaps of comfort, but of +justification. Had he been a thief, he told himself, he could have faced +the music; but it was precisely because he had taken money while +preserving his inner probity that he refused to be judged by the +standards of men. Once more he couldn't express it in this way to +himself; but it was the conclusion to which his instincts leaped. Only +one tribunal could discern between the good and evil in his case; so he +was resolved to go before it. + +In a quiet corner he began to cry. He was only a boy, with a boy's +facility of emotion, especially of distress. He cried at the thought of +his mother and the girls, with no one to fend for them, and no Teddy +coming home in the evenings. It was true that, apart from his filchings, +he had been able to fend for them only to the extent of eighteen per, +but there was always a chance of better days ahead. Even at the worst of +times, they had a good deal of fun among themselves, and now.... + +Now his mother would be in the kitchen, beginning to get supper, and +each of the girls would be making her way back to Indiana Avenue. +Pansy's dog clock would tell her when to watch for them, and the loving +little creature would be eying the door, ready to welcome each of them +in turn. If she had a preference, it was for himself, and the feeling of +her gentle paws against his shin was connected with the tenderest things +he knew. + +No; it wasn't possible. He couldn't be skyed on that twenty-third floor, +unable to come down, unable to go home. It _must_ be a nightmare. Such +things didn't happen. He was Teddy Follett, a good boy at heart, with an +honorable record in the navy. He had never meant to steal, but what +could he do? The money was there, to be stacked in the vaults of +Collingham & Law's, not to be touched for months, very likely, and the +home needs imperative. He couldn't see his father and mother turned out +of house and home because they couldn't pay their taxes. It was not in +common sense. Nothing was in common sense. That he should be dragged +into court, that his mother should break her heart, that shame should be +showered on his sisters was ridiculous. Somewhere in the universe there +was a great big principle that was on his side, though he didn't know +what it was. + +What he did know was that crying was unmanly. Sopping up his tears and +trying not to think, he jumped into the first lift that stopped and got +out at floor eleven. There he went straight to the lavatory, which he +now knew how to place, and once more found the door locked. + +Though again it was reprieve, it was reprieve almost unwelcome. The +first passing lift was going upward, and so he ascended to floor +seventeen. Here again the lavatory was locked, as it was on floors +nineteen and twenty-five, both of which he tried. He began to understand +that they were locked according to a principle, and that for those +seeking privacy in which to shoot themselves they offered no resource. + +Moreover, offices were closing and the great building emptying itself +rapidly. The rush was all to the lifts going downward. He, too, must go +downward. To be found skulking in corridors where he had no business +would expose him to suspicion. After nearly an hour spent above he +descended to the atrium, where Flynn and Jackman might be watching the +cages disgorge, knowing that in time he must appear from one of them. + +But he walked out without interference. A far hint of twilight was +deepening the atmosphere round the heads of the great columns, and the +waning sunshine spoke of workers seeking rest. Streams of men and women, +mostly young, were setting toward each of the exits, to Broadway, to +Fulton Street, to Dey Street; and he had only to drop into one of them. +He chose that toward Dey Street, finding himself in the open air, in +full exercise of his liberty. + +Once more it was hard to believe that there was a difference between +this day and other days. It would have been so natural to go to the gym +for a plunge or a turn with the foils, and then home to supper. He +discussed with himself the possibility of a last night with the family, +recoiling only from the fact that it was precisely there that they would +look for him. Much reading of criminal annals had printed that detail on +his brain--the poor wretch torn from the warm shelter of his home, with +his wife's arms round him and the baby sleeping in the cradle. There was +no wife or baby in this case; but to have the thing happen to himself, +with his mother and the girls vainly trying to stay the course of the +law, would be worse than going to the chair. + +He was in the uptown subway, with no outward difference between himself +and the scores of other young men scanning the evening papers. Because +he didn't know what else to do, he got out at Chambers Street. He got +out at Chambers Street because there was a ferry there which would take +him over to New Jersey. He went over to New Jersey because it was his +habit at this hour of the day, and to follow his habit somehow preserved +his sanity. To be on the same side of the river as his home was a faint, +futile consolation. + +And while on the ferryboat a new idea came to him. In the Erie station +he should find a telephone booth from which he could ring up his mother +and inform her that he was not to be home that night. Though it would do +no good in the end, it would at least save her from immediate alarm. +Flynn and Jackman were unknown by face to the family, and if they rang +at the door in search of him they would probably not tell their tale. +Before he reached the other side he had concocted a story of which his +only fear was as to his ability to tell it on the wire without breaking +down. + +It was a bit of good luck to be answered by Gladys, whom he could +"bluff" more easily than the rest of them. + +"Hello, Gladys! This is Ted. Tell ma I'm in Paterson and shall not get +home to-night or to-morrow night." + +He could hear Gladys calling into the interior of the house: + +"Well, _what_ do you know about that? Ted's at Paterson and not coming +home to-night or to-morrow night." Into the receiver she said, "But, +Ted, what'll they say at the bank?" + +"I may not go back to the bank. This is a new job. You remember the +fellow I was working for on the side? Well, he's put me into this, and +perhaps I'm going to make money." + +"Oh, Ted," Gladys called, delightedly, "how many plunks?" + +"It--it isn't a salary," he stammered. "I--I may be in the firm. +To-morrow I may have to go to Philadelphia. Tell ma not to worry--and +not to miss me. I'll try to call up from Philadelphia, but if I +can't--Well, anyhow, give my love to ma and everybody, and if I'm not +home the day after to-morrow, don't think anything about it." + +He put up the receiver before Gladys could ask any more questions, and +felt ready to cry again. In order not to do that, he walked out of the +station into the street, where the presence of the crowds compelled him +to self-control. Having nothing to do and nowhere to go, he walked on +and on, getting some relief from his desolation by the mere fact of +movement. + +So he walked and walked and walked, headed vaguely toward the outskirts +of the town. There were vast marshes there into which he could stray and +be lost. The rank grasses in this early August season were almost as +high as his shoulders, so that he could lie down and be beyond all human +ken. His body might not be found for weeks, might never be found at all. +Teddy Follett would simply disappear, his fate remaining a mystery. + +Toward seven o'clock, the shabby suburbs began to show their +primrose-colored lights--a twinkle here, a twinkle there, stringing out +in longer streets to scattered bits of garland. Teddy felt hungry. +Counting his money and finding that he had two dollars and thirty-one +cents, he was sorry not to be able to transmit the two dollars to his +mother. + +Growing more and more hungry, and knowing he must keep up his nerve, he +spied a little bread-and-pastry shop just where the houses were thinning +out and the marshes invading the town, as the ocean invaded the marshes. +On entering, he asked for two tongue sandwiches and half a dozen +doughnuts. The woman who wrapped up the sandwiches and dropped the +doughnuts into a paper bag was an English-speaking foreigner of the +Scandinavian type, blond, dumpy, with a row of bad teeth and piercing +blue eyes. As she performed her task, she seemed not to take her eyes +from off him, though her smile was kind, and she called his attention to +the fact that she was giving him seven doughnuts for his six. + +"You don't lif rount here?" she asked, in counting out the change for +his dollar. + +"No; just going up the road." + +"Well, call again," she said, politely, as he took his parcels and went +out. + +Having eaten his two sandwiches, he felt better, in the sense of being +stronger and more able to face the thing that had to be done. He was not +quite out on the marshes, the long, flat road cutting straight across +them to the nearest little town. The lights were rarer, but still there +were lights, their saffron growing more and more luminous as the colors +of the sunset paled out. An occasional motor passed him, but never a man +on foot. + +He could have turned in anywhere, and perhaps for that reason he put off +doing so. It would be easier, he argued, to shoot himself after dark. It +was not dark as yet--only the long August gloaming. Moreover, the +tramping was a relief, soothing his nerves and working off some of his +horror. He wished he could go on with it, on and on, into the unknown, +where he would be beyond recognition. But that was just where the +trouble was. For the fugitive from justice recognition always lay in +wait. He had often heard his father say that in the banking business you +could get away with a thing for years and years, and yet recognition +would spring on you when least expected. As for himself, recognition +could meet him in any little town in New Jersey. They would have his +picture in the paper by to-morrow--and, besides, what was the use? + +The dark was undeniably falling when he noticed on the right a lonely +shack with nothing but the marsh all round it. Coming nearly abreast of +it, he detected a rough path toward it through the grass. He had no need +of a path, no need of a shack, but, the path and the shack being there, +they offered something to make for. Since he was obliged to turn aside, +he might as well do it now. + +So aside he turned. The path was hardly a path, and had apparently not +been used that year. Wading through the dank grasses which caught him +about the feet, he could hear small living things hopping away from his +tread, or a marsh bird rise with a frightened whir of wings. Water +gushed into his shoes, but that, he declared, wouldn't matter, as he +would so soon be out of the reach of catching cold. + +The building proved to be all that fire had left of a shanty knocked +together long ago, probably for laborers working on the road. The walls +were standing, and it was not quite roofless. There was no door, and the +window was no more than a hole, but as he ventured within he found the +flooring sound. At least, it bore his weight, and, what was more amazing +still, he tripped over a rough bench which the fire had spared and the +former occupants had not thought worth the carting away. + +It was the very thing. Shooting oneself was something to be performed +with ritual. You lay down, stretched yourself out, and did it with a +hint of decency. + +Teddy groped his way. First he drew the pistol from his hip pocket, +laying it carefully on the floor and within reach of his hand. Next he +sat down for a minute, but, fearing he would begin to think, lifted his +feet to the bench, lowered his back, and straightened himself to his +full, flat length. Putting down his hand, he found he could touch the +pistol easily, and therefore let it lie. He let it lie only because he +had not yet decided where to fire--at his heart or into his temple. + +Outside the hut there was a hoarse, sleepy croak, then another, and +another, and another. The dangers of light being past, the frogs were +waking to their evening chant. Teddy had always loved this dreamy, +monotonous lullaby, reminiscent of spring twilights and approaching +holidays. He was glad now that it would be the last sound to greet his +ears on earth. Since he had to go, it would croon to him softly, cradle +him gently, letting the night of the soul come down on him consolingly. +He was not frightened; he was only tired--oddly tired, considering where +he was. It would be easier to fall asleep than do anything else, +listening to the co-ax, co-ax, co-ax, with which the darkness round was +filled. + + ---- + +And right at that minute, Flynn, with low chuckles of laughter, was +telling Mrs. Flynn of the extraordinary adventure of the afternoon. + +"We didn't have nothin' on the young guy at all till we seen him look +over at us scared-like, and he tuck to his heels." + +It was a cozy scene--Flynn, in his shirt sleeves and slippers, smoking +his pipe in the dining-room of a Harlem apartment, while his wife, a +plump, pretty woman, was putting away the spoons and forks in the drawer +of the yellow-oak sideboard. The noisy Flynn children being packed off +to bed, the father could unbend and become confidential. + +"It's about three weeks now since Jackman put me wise to money leakin' +from Collingham & Law's, and we couldn't tell where the hole was. First +we'd size up one fella, and then another; but we'd say it couldn't be +him or him. We looked over this young Follett with the rest, but only +with the rest, and found but wan thing ag'in' him." + +"Didn't he lose his father a short while back?" + +"Yes; and that was what made us think of him. Old Follett was fired from +the bank eight or nine months ago, and yet the family had gone on livin' +very much as they always done." + +"That'd be to their credit, wouldn't it?" Mrs. Flynn suggested, kindly. + +"It'd be to some one's credit; and the thing we wanted to know was if it +was to Collingham & Law's. But we hadn't a thing on him. We found out +he'd paid for the old man's funeral, and the grave, and all that; but +whether old Follett had left a little wad or whether the young guy'd +found it lyin' around loose, we couldn't make out at all. And then this +afternoon, as Jackman and me was talkin' it over on the other side o' +Broad Street, who should come out but me little lord! Well, wan look +give the whole show away. The third degree couldn't ha' been neater. The +very eyes of him when he seen us on the other side o' the street says, +'My God! they've got me!' So off he goes--and off we goes--up Broad +Street--into Wall Street--across to Nassau Street--up Nassau +Street--round the corner into John Street--up to Broadway--over +Broadway--and then we lost him. But we've done the trick. To-morrow, +when he comes to the bank, we'll have him on the grill. Sooner or later +he'd ha' been on the grill, anyhow." + +"But suppose he doesn't come?" + +"That'll be a worse give-away than ever." + +She turned from the drawer, asking of the Follett family and learning +whatever he had to tell. + +"And you say he's a fine boy of about twenty-one." + +"That'd about be his age. Yes, a fine, upstanding lad--and very pop'lar +with Jackman he's always been." + +She waited a minute before saying, "Oh, Peter, I wish you'd let him +off." + +"Ah, now, Tessie," he expostulated, "there you go again! If you had your +way, there'd be no law at all." + +"Well, I wish there wasn't." + +He laughed with a jolly guffaw. + +"If there was no law, and no one to break it, where'd your trip to the +beach be this summer, and the new Ford car I'm goin' to get for the +boys? Anyhow, even if we do get him with the goods on him, which we're +pretty sure o' doin' now, he'll be recommended to mercy on account of +his youth, and p'raps be let off with two years." + +"Yes--and what'll he be when he comes out?" + +Getting up, he pulled her to him, with his arm across her shoulder. + +"Ah, now, Tessie, don't be lookin' so far ahead. That's you all over." + +And he kissed her. + + ---- + +Gladys, that evening, kissed her mother, in the hope of kissing away her +foreboding. Lizzie had not been satisfied with Teddy's story on the +telephone. + +"I don't understand why he didn't ask to speak to me," she kept +repeating. + +"Oh, momma," Gussie explained to her, "don't you see? It was a +long-distance call. Three minutes is all he was allowed, and of course +he didn't want to pay double. Here's his chance to make money that we've +all been praying for since the year one; and you pull a long face over +it. Cheer up, momma, _do_! Smile! Smile more! There! That's better. Ted +said himself that you were not to miss him." + +So Lizzie did her best to smile, only saying in her heart, "I don't +understand his not speaking to _me_." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Teddy woke to a brilliant August sunshine, and that calling of marsh +birds which is not song. He woke with a start and with terror. He was +still on the bench, though turned over on his side, and with the pistol +in view. He needed a minute to get his wits together, to piece out the +meaning of the blackened walls, the sagging floor, and the sunlight +streaming through the rent in the roof. A hole that had once been a door +and another that had once been a window let the summer wind play over +his hot face, bringing a soft refreshment. + +Dragging himself to a sitting posture, his first sensation was one of +relief. "I'm alive!" He hadn't done the thing he had planned last night! +Merciful sleep had nailed him to the bench, keeping him motionless, +unconscious. The pistol had lain within reach of his hand, and was there +still; it could do duty still, but for the moment he was alive. Had he +ever asked God for help or thanked Him when it came, he would have gone +down on his knees and done it now; but the habit was foreign to the +Follett family. He could only thank the purposeless Chance, which is the +god most of us know best. + +But he was glad. Twelve hours previously he had not supposed it possible +ever to be glad again. It _had_ been a nightmare, he reasoned now, or, +if not a nightmare, it had been thought out of focus. He hadn't seen +straight and normally. It was as if he had been drunk or mildly insane. +He recalled experiences during naval nights ashore, at Brest or Bordeaux +or Hampton Roads, when, after a glass or two of something, his mind had +taken on this fevered twist in which all life had gone red. + +Bickley had read this from the lines of his profile. "Forehead slightly +concave; mouth and chin distinctly convex; tends to act before he +thinks." The other traits had been satisfactory, indicating pluck, +patience, fidelity, and cheerfulness of outlook. + +The cheerfulness of outlook asserted itself now. Since he was alive on a +glorious summer morning, the two great assets of a man, himself and the +outside world, were still at his command. Nevertheless, he didn't blink +the facts. + +"I'm not a thief--but I took the money. They're after me, and they +mustn't get me. I'll shoot myself first; but I don't have to shoot +myself--yet." + +He would not have to shoot himself so long as he was safe, and safety +might take many turns. The abandoned, half-burnt sty in which he had +found refuge was a fortress in its very loneliness. Close to the road, +close to Jersey City, not very far from Pemberton Heights, it had +probably no visitor but a toad or a bird or a truant boy from +twelvemonth to twelvemonth. + +His chief danger was that of being seen. The door and the window were +both on the side toward the road. By avoiding the one and ducking under +the other, he could move, but he could move very little. That little, +however, would stretch his muscles and relieve the intolerable idleness. + +The idleness, he knew, would be irksome. By looking at his watch, which +had not run down, he found it was six o'clock. The six o'clock stir was +also in the air. Motors had begun to dash along the road, and market +garden teams were lumbering toward the big town. He was hungry again, +but with his seven doughnuts still in the bag he couldn't starve to +death. + +By getting on the floor he found a peephole just above the level of the +grass through which he could see without detection. This must be his +spying place. Unlikely as it was that anyone would track him to this +lair, he must be carefully on the lookout. What he should do if +threatened with a visitor was not very clear to him. There being no exit +except by the door, and the door being toward the road from which a +visitor would naturally approach, there was no escape on that side. +Escape being out of the question, there would only remain--the other +thing. The other thing was always the great possibility. He hadn't +abandoned the thought of it; he had only postponed the necessity. He +would live as long as he could; and yet the necessity of the other thing +would probably arise. If it arose, he hoped he should get through it by +that tendency which he recognized in himself as clearly as Mr. Bickley +had read it from his profile--to act before he thought. + +With this as a possibility, he got down to his peephole, put the pistol +near him on the floor, and began on his doughnuts. For breakfast, he +allowed himself three, keeping the rest for his midday needs. When +darkness fell he would steal out and buy more. He could do this as long +as his money held out, and before it was spent something would probably +have happened. What that something would be he did not forecast. He was +in a fix where forecasting wasn't possible. The minute was the only +thing, and a thing that had grown precious. + +Even the family had somehow become subordinate to that. In the +strangeness of his night, he seemed to have traveled away from them. A +man clinging to a spar on the ocean might have had this sense of +remoteness from his dear ones safe on shore. Since they were safe on +shore, that would be the main thing. Since his mother and sisters could +come and go in Indiana Avenue, he could wish them nothing more. That was +the all-essential, and they had it. Want, anxiety, grief, "and no Teddy +coming home in the evenings," were trifles as compared with this +priceless blessing of security. + +So he settled down amid filth and slime and the debris of charred wood +to watch and wait and cling to his life till he could cling to it no +longer. + +Later that morning, Mrs. Collingham motored from Marillo to see Hubert +Wray's much-discussed picture, "Life and Death," in a famous dealer's +gallery in Fifth Avenue. It had hung there a week, and though the season +was dead, it was being talked about. Among the few in New York who care +for the art of painting, the picture had "caught on." The important +critics had honored it with articles, in which one wrote black and +another white with an equal authority. The important middlemen had come +in to look at it, saying to one another, "Here's a fellow who'll go +far--_en voila un qui va faire son chemin_." The important connoisseurs +had made a point of viewing it, with their customary fear of expressing +admiration for the work of a native son. From the few who knew, the +interest was spreading to the many who didn't know but were anxious to +appear as if they did. + +Junia's introduction to the picture had caused her some chagrin. She had +not ranked Hubert among the important family acquaintances, and when he +came down to Collingham Lodge, for a night or two, as occasionally he +did, she presented him to only the more negligible neighbors. "A young +man Bob met in France," was all the explanation he required. + +But in dining out recently she had been led in to dinner by a man of +unusual enlightenment, with whose flair and discernment she liked to +keep abreast. To do this she was accustomed to fall back on such scraps +of reviews or art notes as drifted to her through the papers, bringing +them out with that knack of "putting her best goods in the window" which +was part of her social equipment. Books and the theater being too light +for her attention, she was fond of displaying in music and painting the +_expertise_ of a patroness. She could not only talk of Boldini and +Cezanne, of Paul Dukas and Vincent d'Indy, but could throw off the names +of younger men just coming into view as if eagerly following their +development. + +Her neighbor's comments on the new picture, "Life and Death," at the +Kahler Gallery were of value to her chiefly because they were up to date +and told her what to say. "A reaction against the cubists and +post-impressionists in favor of an art rich in color, suggestion, and +significance," was a useful phrase and one easy to remember. But not +having caught the painter's name, she felt it something of a shock when, +with the impressiveness of one whose notice confers recognition, her +escort went on to remark: "I'm going to look up this young Hubert Wray +and ask him down to Marillo. You and Bradley will be interested in +meeting him." + +Junia's chagrin was inward, of course, and arose from the fact of having +had a budding celebrity like a tame cat about the house, not merely +without suspecting it, but without keeping in touch with the thing he +was creating. At the same time, she couldn't have been the woman she was +had it not been for the faculty of tuning herself up to any necessary +key. + +Her smile was of the kind that grants no superiority even to a man of +unusual enlightenment. + +"You can't imagine how interested I am in hearing your opinion of the +dear boy's work, and so I've been letting you run on. He happens to be a +very intimate friend of ours--he comes down to stay with us every few +weeks--and I've been watching his development so keenly. I really do +think that with this picture he'll arrive; and to have a man like you +agree with me delights me beyond words." + +It was also the excuse she needed for calling Hubert up. More than two +months had passed since her meeting with Jennie, and the twenty-five +thousand dollars was still lying to her credit at the bank. She was not +unaware of a reason for this, in that Bradley had told her of old +Follett's death, and even a "bad girl" like Jennie must be allowed some +leeway for grief. But Follett had been nearly two weeks in his grave, +and still the application for the twenty-five thousand didn't come. +Unless a pretext could be found for keeping Bob in South America, he +would soon be on his way homeward, and she, Junia, was growing anxious. +To be face to face with Hubert would give her the opportunity she was +looking for. + +He met her at the street entrance to the Kahler Gallery, conducting her +through the main exposition of canvases to a little shrine in the rear. +It was truly a shrine, hung in black velvet, and with no lighting but +that which fell indirectly on the vivid, vital thing just sprung into +consciousness of life, like Aphrodite risen from the sea foam. But, just +sprung into consciousness of life, she had been called on at once to +contemplate death, eying it with a mysterious spiritual courage. The +living gleam of flesh, the marble of the throne, and the skull's charnel +ugliness stood out against a blue-green atmosphere, like that of some +other plane. + +Junia was startled, not by the power and beauty of this apparition, but +by something else. + +"You've--you've changed her," she said, with awed breathlessness, after +gazing for three or four minutes in silence. + +"You mean the model?" + +She nodded a "Yes," without taking her eyes from the extraordinary +vision. + +"You've seen her?" he asked, in mild surprise. + +"Just once." + +"The figure is exact," he explained, "but I did have to make changes in +the features. It wouldn't have done, otherwise." + +"No, of course not." + +More minutes passed in silent contemplation, when she said: + +"I thought there was more of the gleam of the red in amber in the hair. +This hair is a brown with a little red in it." + +"I got it as nearly as I could," he felt it enough to say. "The shade +and sheen and silkiness of hair are always difficult." + +After more minutes of hushed gazing, Junia made a venture. She spoke in +that insinuating, sympathetic tone which in moments of tensity a woman +can sometimes take toward a man. + +"You're in love with her--aren't you?" + +He jerked his head in the direction of the nude woman. + +"With her? That model? Why, no! What made you think so?" + +Junia was disconcerted. + +"Oh, only--only the hints that have seeped through when you didn't think +you were giving anything away." + +He said, with some firmness: + +"I never meant to give that away--or to hint that it was--that it was +love--a _rouleuse_ of the studios, whom any fellow can pick up." + +Junia felt like a person roaming aimlessly through sand who suddenly +stumbles on gold. There was more here than, for the moment, she could +estimate. All she could see were possibilities; but there was one other +point as to which she needed to be sure. It was conceivable that the +thing might have been painted long ago, before Bob's departure for South +America, in which case it would lose at least some of its value for her +purpose. + +"When did you do this, Hubert?" + +"Oh, just within the last few weeks." + +This was enough. With her usual swiftness of decision, she had her plans +in mind. + +"What are you asking?" + +He named his price. It was a large one, but her balance at the bank was +large. It could be put to this use as well as to another. + +"I'll take it," she said, after a minute's consideration, "if you could +let me have it within a few days." + +Not to betray the eagerness he felt, he said that it would give him +publicity to keep it on view as long as possible. + +"It will be almost as much publicity to have it on view at Marillo." + +And in the end he agreed that this was so. + +He walked back to the studio as if wings on his feet were lifting him +above the pavement. It was the seal on his success. "Sold to a private +collector" would be a bomb to throw among the dealers, who had been +taking their time and dickering. It was more than the seal on this one +success; it was a harbinger of the next success. And with this thing +behind him, the next success was calling to him to begin. + +He already knew what he should begin on. It was to be called, "Eve +Tempting the Serpent." He was not yet sure how he should treat the idea, +but a lethargic semihuman reptile was to be roused to the concept of +evil by a woman's beauty and abandonment. The thing would be daring; but +it couldn't be too daring, or it would bring down on him the +recrudescent blue-law spirit already so vigorous through the country. He +couldn't afford a tussle with that until he was better established. + +But he had made some sketches, and had written to Jennie that he should +like to talk the matter over on that very afternoon. She had written in +reply that, at last, she would be free to come. For the first few days +after the funeral she had been either too grief stricken or too busy; +but now the claims of life were asserting themselves again and she was +trying to respond to them. He must not expect her to be gay; but she +would grow more cheerful in time. + +So he went back to the studio to lunch and to wait for her coming. Till +she had ceased coming he hadn't known how much the daily expectation of +seeing her had meant to him. The very occasions on which she had, as he +expressed it, played him false had brought an excitement which he would +have been emotionally poorer for having missed. He could not go through +the experience often; he could, perhaps, not go through it again. But +for that test he was apparently not to be called upon. She was coming. +She knew what she was coming for. The very fact that she had written +meant surrender. + +And that, indeed, was what Jennie had been saying to herself all through +the morning. Now that there had been this interval, she knew that her +latitude for saying "Yes" and acting "No" was at an end. If she went at +all, she must go all the way. To go once more and draw back once more +would not be playing the game. She was clear in her mind that the day +would be decisive. As to her decision, she was not so sure. + +That is, she was not sure of its wisdom, though sure what she would do. +She would do what she had meant to do more than two months earlier. +There was no reason why she shouldn't, and the same set of reasons why +she should. Not only were the money and release imperative, but Hubert +meant more to her than ever. His sympathy through her sorrow had touched +her by its very novelty. He had written, sent flowers, and kept himself +in the background. Bob would have done more and moved her less, for the +reason that doing all and giving all were in his nature. The rare thing +being the most precious thing, she treasured the perfunctory phrases in +Hubert's scrawl of condolence above all the outpourings of Bob's heart. + +Nevertheless, she treasured them with misgivings. The consciousness of +being married had acquired some strength from watching the effect of her +father's death on her mother. She had known, ever since growing up, that +her father and mother had been unequally mated. It was not wholly a +question of practical failure or success--it was rather that the balance +of moral support had been so shifted between them that the mother had +nothing to sustain her. "Poor momma," had been Jennie's way of putting +it, "has to take the burden of everything. She's got us on her +shoulders, and poppa, too." And yet, with Josiah's death, some prop of +Lizzie's inner life seemed to have been snatched away. She was not +weaker, perhaps, but she was more detached, and stranger. To her +children, to her neighbors, she had always been strange, always +detached, but now the aloofness had become more significant. With Josiah +alone she had lived in that communion of things shared which leads to +understanding. Now that he was gone, something had gone with him, +leaving Lizzie like an empty house. + +Jennie was thrown back on what Bob had repeated so often: "You're the +other half of me; I'm the other half of you." Whether it came through +some impulse of affinity, or whether it was the chance of +conscientiously living together, Jennie wasn't sure; but it began to +seem as if in the mere fact of marriage there was a naturally unifying +principle. To go against it was, in a measure, to go against the forces +of the universe; and though she had only been nominally married to Bob, +she was preparing to go against it. Had she been a rebel at heart, it +would have been easier; but she was docile, loving, eager to be loved, +with nothing more daring in her soul than the wish to live at peace with +the world she saw round her. + +Bob's letters were disturbing, too. In the way of a happy future, he +took everything for granted. He reasoned as if, now that they had gone +through a certain form together and signed it with a parson's name, she +had no more liberty of will than a woman in a harem. Little as she was +rebellious, she rebelled against that, preferring an element of chance +in her love to a love in which there was no choice. Bob wrote as if her +love was of no importance, as if he could love enough for two--did, in +fact, love enough for two--so that the whole need of loving was taken +off her hands. + + I feel, as if my love was the air and you were a plant to grow + in it. It's the sunshine to which your leaves and blossoms will + only have to turn. + +"That's all very well for him," she said, falling back with a grimace on +the language Gussie brought home with her from vaudeville shows, "but I +ain't no blooming plant." + +Hubert's love, she thought at other times, was like a rare and precious +cordial, of which a few drops carefully doled out ran like fire through +the veins. Bob's was a rushing torrent which, without saying with your +leave or by your leave, carried you away. She preferred the cordial, of +which you could take up the glass and put it down according as you +wanted less or more; but, on the other hand, when there was a flood +which, without asking your permission, poured all over you, what were +you to do? She knew what she meant to do; but it was the difficulty of +doing it and facing that terrific tide which made her stand aghast. If +Bob would only let her alone.... + +But, then, Bob couldn't let her alone. He himself would have argued that +you might as well ask a man to let a hand or a foot alone while it is +aching. At the minute when Jennie was thinking these thoughts as she +flitted about the house, he was seated at an open hotel window on the +Santa Thereza hill above Rio de Janeiro, looking down on an iridescent +city creeping round the foam-fringed edges of a turquoise sea, and +saying to himself: "I'm watching over you, Jennie. I'm here, but my love +is there and fills all the space between us. I came away and left you +exposed to all sorts of trouble. I shouldn't have done that; I'm sorry +now I did. I thought that if we were married the rest would take care of +itself; but I see now it couldn't. You're having a harder time than I +ever supposed you'd have, and you're having it all alone; but my love is +with you, Jennie, and the worst can't happen while it protects you. +Dangers will threaten you, but you'll go to meet them with my love +closing you in, and something will ward them off." + +"I wish he'd stop thinking about me like that." + +Jennie's reference, while she stood at the mirror putting the last +touches to her costume, was to this same thought as expressed in the +letters she received from South America. Its appeal to her imagination +was such as to create an atmosphere wrapping her about as a halo wraps a +saint. She couldn't get away from it. In going to meet Hubert, as she +would do in a few minutes, it would go with her, an embarrassing witness +of the sin against itself. + +For the minute, the action of her mind was twofold. She was making this +protest as to Bob and was also giving minute attention to her dress. Not +only was it her first appearance in public since her father's funeral +but it was a moment at which the victim must be neatly decked for the +altar. Having no money to spend on "mourning," she had put deft touches +of black on a last year's white summer suit, to which a black hat thrown +together by Gussie, with the black shoes and stockings already in her +possession, added their mute witness that she was grieving for a +relative. Having, moreover, the native _chic_ which counts for most in +the art of dressing, she was one more instance of the girl of the +humbler walks in life who, by some secret of her own, confounds the +product of the Rue de la Paix. + +She was to leave for the studio as soon as her mother got up from her +early-afternoon rest. The early-afternoon rest had become a necessity +for Lizzie ever since the day when Josiah had been laid away. + +"You'll call me if Teddy rings," she had stipulated, before lying down, +and Jennie had promised faithfully. + +As to Teddy's message, nominally sent from Paterson, Lizzie had betrayed +a skepticism which the three girls found disconcerting. She said +nothing, but it was precisely the saying nothing that puzzled them. When +they themselves grew expansive over the things they would buy with the +money Teddy was going to make, the mother's faint smile was alarming. It +was alarming chiefly because it combined with other things to produce +that effect of strangeness they had all noticed in her since their +father died. Though they couldn't define it for themselves, it was as if +she had renounced any further effort to make life fulfill itself. She +was like a man on a sinking ship, who, after casting about as to how he +may save himself, knows there is no choice left but to go down, and so +becomes resigned. Having thrown up her hands, Lizzie was waiting for the +waters to close over her. Jennie was thus uneasy about her mother, as +she was uneasy about Bob, uneasy about Hubert, and, most of all, uneasy +about herself. + +By the time she was ready she heard Lizzie stirring in her bedroom. It +was the signal agreed upon. She was free to go, which meant that she was +free to turn her back on all her more or less sheltered past and strike +out toward a terrifying future. She felt as she had always supposed she +would feel on leaving her home on her wedding day; and she would do as +she had decided she would do in that event. She would go without making +a fuss, without anything to record that the going was different from +other goings, or that the return would be different from other returns. +She would make her departure casual, without consciousness, without +admitted intentions. She merely called to her mother, therefore, through +the closed door, that she was on her way, and her mother had called out +in response, "Very well." This leave-taking making things easier--all +Jennie had to do was to gulp back a sob. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +But as Jennie opened the door to let herself out, two men were standing +on the cement sidewalk in front of the grassplots, examining the house. +They were big, heavily built men, who, although in plain clothes, +suggested the guardianship of law. It came to Jennie instantly that +their examination of the house was peculiar; and of that peculiarity she +divined with equal promptness the significance. The men declared +afterward that in her manner of standing on the step and waiting till +they spoke to her there was the same kind of "give-away" as when her +brother had eyed them across Broad Street. + +The older and heavier of the two advanced up the walk between the +grassplots. + +"This is the Follett house, ain't it, miss?" + +Jennie replied that it was. + +"And you're Miss Follett?" + +She assented again. + +"Is your brother in?" + +"N-no; he's not in town." + +The big man turned toward his taller and slighter colleague, whatever he +had to say being communicated by a look. Having expressed this thought, +he veered round again toward Jennie, speaking politely. + +"Maybe we could have a word with you, private-like." + +"Won't you step in?" + +Presently they were all three seated in the living room, the big man +continuing as spokesman. + +"Ah, now, about your brother, Miss Follett; you're sure he isn't +anywheres around?" + +The inference from the tone was that somehow Jennie was secreting him. + +"He isn't to my knowledge. He called up last evening to say that he +wouldn't be home to-day, and perhaps not to-morrow." + +The two men being seated within range of each other's eyes, some new +understanding was flashed silently. + +"Did he, then? And where would he have called up from?" + +"From Paterson." + +"From Paterson, was it? And what made you think it was from Paterson?" + +"He said so." + +"And that was all you had to go by?" + +"That was all." + +"Well, well, now! He said so, did he? And he didn't come home last +night?" + +Jennie shook her head. + +For a third time Flynn's eyes telegraphed something to Jackman's, and +Jackman's responded. What they said to each other Jennie didn't try to +surmise, for the reason that she was listening to a call. It was the +call that Teddy had heard on the night when his father had brought home +the news that he was "fired"--the call to assume responsibilities. Her +father had gone; her mother was collapsing; Teddy had broken beneath the +strain. "And now it's up to me." Mentally, she spoke the words almost +before she was conscious of the thought. "And that settles it." These +words, too, she spoke mentally, but in them the reference was different. +The vision of love and twenty-five thousand dollars, of bliss for +herself and relief for the family, which had waxed and waned so often, +now faded out forever behind a mass of storm-clouds. But of all this she +gave no sign as she waited for the burly man to speak again. + +"And when your brother called up from Paterson--let us say it was +Paterson--didn't you ask him no questions at all?" + +"He didn't speak to me. I wasn't at home. It was to my little sister. I +understood that he rang off before she could ask him anything." + +"Oh, he did, did he?" The telegraphy between the two men was renewed. +"And didn't he say nothin' about what had tuck him to a place like +Paterson?" + +"I think he said it was business." + +"'Business,' was it? Ah, well, now! And what sort of business would that +be?" + +"I don't know." + +"And would you tell me now if you did know?" + +Jennie looked at him with clear, limpid eyes. + +"I'm not sure that I would. I don't know what right you have to ask me +questions as it is." + +"This right." Turning back the lapel of his coat, he displayed a badge. +"We don't want to frighten you, Miss Follett, my friend and me, we +don't; but if you know anything about the boy, it'll be easier in the +long run both for him and for you--" + +"What do you want him for?" + +Lizzie's voice was so deep that it startled. On the threshold of the +little entry she stood, tall, black robed, almost unearthly. At the same +time Pansy, who had also come downstairs, crept toward Flynn with a low, +vicious growl. Both men stumbled to their feet, awed by something in +Lizzie which was more than the majesty of grief. + +"Ah, now, we're sorry to disturb you, ma'am, my friend and me. We know +you've had trouble, and we wouldn't be for wantin' to bring more into a +house where there's enough of it already. But when things is duty, they +can't be put by just because they're unpleasant--" + +"Has my son been taking money from Collingham & Law's?" + +The spectral voice gave force to the directness of the question. +Abandoning the hint of professional bullying he had taken toward Jennie, +Flynn, with Pansy's teeth not six inches from his calf, went a pace or +two toward the figure in the entry. + +"Has he been takin' money, that boy of yours? Well now, and have you any +reason to think so, ma'am?" + +"None--apart from what I hoped." + +"Momma!" + +Jennie sprang to her mother, grasping her by the arm. While Jackman +stood like an iron figure in the background, Flynn, always with Pansy's +teeth keeping some six inches from his calf, advanced still another pace +or two. + +"Ah, now, that's a quare thing, ma'am, for the mother of a lad to +say--that she hoped he was takin' money." + +"Oh, don't mind her," Jennie pleaded. "She hasn't been just--just +_right_--ever since my father died." + +"I didn't think of it at first," Lizzie stated, in a lifeless voice. "I +believed what he told us, that he was making money on the side. It was +only latterly that I began to suspect that he wasn't; and now I hope he +took it from the bank." + +"But, good God! ma'am, why? Don't you know he'll be caught--and what +he'll get for it?" + +"Oh, he'd get that just the same, if you mean suffering and punishment +and a life of misery. All I want is that he should be the first to +strike. Since he's got to go down before brute power--" + +"Brute power of law and order, ma'am, if you'll allow me to remind you." + +She uttered a little joyless laugh. + +"Law and order! You'll excuse me for laughing, won't you? I've heard so +much of them--" + +"And you're likely to hear a lot more, if this is the way o' things." + +"Oh, I expect to. They'll do me to death, as they'll do you, and as they +do everyone else. Law and order are the golden images set up for us to +bow down to and worship as gods; and we get the reward that's always +dealt out to those who believe in falsehood." + +Flynn appealed to both Jennie and Jackman. + +"I never heard no one talk like that, whether dotty or sane." + +"If it was real law and order," Lizzie continued, with the same +passionless intonation, "that would be another thing. But it isn't. It's +faked law and order. It's a plaster on a sore, meant to hide the ugly +thing and not to heal it. It's to keep bad bad by pretending that it's +good--" + +"Ah, but bad as it is, ma'am," Flynn began to reason, "it's better than +stealin'--now, isn't it?" + +But Lizzie seemed ready for him here. + +"I think I've read in your Bible that the commandment, 'Thou shalt not +steal,' was given to a people among whom it was a principle that +everyone should be provided for. If it happened that anyone was not +provided for, there was another commandment given as to him, 'Thou shalt +not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn.' He was to be free to take +what he needed." + +Flynn shook his head. + +"That may be in the Bible, ma'am; but it wouldn't stand in a court o' +law." + +"Of course it wouldn't; only, the court of law is nothing to me." + +"It can make itself something to you, ma'am, if you don't mind my sayin' +so." + +"Oh no, it can't! It can try me and sentence me and lock me up; but +that's no worse than law and order are doing to me and mine every hour +of the day." + +"Oh, momma," Jennie pleaded, clinging to her mother's arm, "please +stop--_please_!" + +"I'm only warning him, darling. Law and order will bring him to grief as +it does everyone else. How many did it kill in the war? Something like +twelve millions, wasn't it, and could anyone ever reckon up the number +of aching hearts it's left alive?" + +"Yes, momma; but that kind of talk doesn't do Teddy any good." + +"It does if we make it plain that he was only acting within his rights. +These people think that by passing a law they impose a moral duty. What +nonsense! I want my son to be brave enough to strike at such a theory as +that. It's true that they'll strike back at him, and that they have the +power to crush him--only, in the long run he'll be the victor." + +Flynn looked at Jennie in sympathetic apology. + +"All right now, Miss Follett. I guess my friend and me'll be goin' +along--" + +"You'll do just as you like about that," Lizzie interposed, with +dignity; "but if you see my son before I do, tell him not to be sorry +for what he's done, and above all not to think that I blame him. 'Thou +shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn.' When you do, the +eighth commandment doesn't apply any longer." + +Jennie followed her visitors to the doorstep. After her mother's +reckless talk, they seemed like friends, as, indeed, at bottom of their +kindly hearts they could easily have been. They brought no ill will to +their job--only a conviction that if Teddy Follett was a thief, they +must "get him." + +"Does--does Mr. Collingham know that all this is going on?" + +She asked her question in trepidation, lest these men, trained to ferret +out whatever was most hidden, should be able to read her secret. It was +Jackman who shouldered the duty of answering. He seemed more laconic +than his colleague, and more literate. + +"We don't trouble Mr. Collingham with trifles. If it was a big thing--" + +So Jennie was left with that consolation--that it was not _a big thing_. +How big it was she could only guess at, but, whatever the magnitude, she +had no doubt at all but that it was "up to her." She got some +inspiration from the little word "up." There was a lift in it that made +her courageous. + +Nevertheless, when she returned to the living room, finding her mother +seated, erect and stately, in an armchair, with Pansy gazing at her with +eyes of quenchless, infinite devotion, Jennie knew a qualm of fear. + +"Oh, momma, wouldn't it be awful if Teddy had to go to jail?" + +"It would be awful or not, just as you took it. If you thought he went +to jail as a thief, it _would_ be awful, but if you saw him only as the +martyr of a system, you'd be proud to know he was there." + +"Oh, but, momma, what's the good of saying things like that?" + +"What's the good of letting them throw you down, a quivering bundle of +flesh, before a Juggernaut, and just being meekly thankful? That's what +your father and I have always done, and, now that the wheels have passed +over him, I see the folly of keeping silent. I may not do any good by +speaking, but at least I speak. When they muzzle the ox that treadeth +out the corn, it isn't much wonder if the famished beast goes mad. Did +you ever see a mad ox, Jennie? Well, it's a terrible sight--the most +patient and laborious drudge among animals, goaded to a desperation in +which he's conscious of nothing but his wrongs and his strength. They +generally kill him. It's all they can do with him--but, of course, they +can do that." + +"So that it doesn't do the ox much good to go mad, does it?" + +"Oh yes; because he gets out of it. That's the only relief for us, +Jennie darling--to get out of it. I begin to understand how mothers can +so often kill themselves and their children. They don't want to leave +anyone they love to endure the sufferings this world inflicts." + +From these ravings Jennie was summoned by the tinkle of the telephone +bell. + +"Teddy!" cried the mother, starting to her feet. + +"No; it's Mr. Wray. I knew he'd ring me if I didn't turn up." + +The instrument was in the entry, and Jennie felt curiously calm and +competent as she went toward it. All decisions being taken out of her +hands, she no longer had to doubt and calculate. The renunciations, too, +were made for her. She was not required to look back, only to go on. + +In answer to the question, "Is this Mrs. Follett's house?" she replied, +as if the occasion were an ordinary one: + +"Yes, Mr. Wray. I'm sorry I can't come to the studio." + +"Oh! so it's you! You can't come--what? Then you needn't come any more." + +"Yes; that's what I thought. I see now that--that I can't." + +"Well, of all--" He broke off in his expostulation to say: "Jennie, for +God's sake, what's the matter with you? What are you afraid of?" + +"I'm not afraid of anything, Mr. Wray; but there's a good deal the +matter which I can't explain on the telephone." + +"Do you want me to come over there?" + +"No; you couldn't do any good." + +"Is it money?" + +"No." She remembered the accumulation of untouched bills and checks in +her glove-and-handkerchief box upstairs. "I've got plenty of money. +There's nothing you could do, thank you." + +There was a pause before he said: + +"Then it's all off? Is that what you mean?" + +"Isn't it what you meant yourself only a minute ago?" + +"Oh, well, you needn't stake your life on that." + +She began to feel faint. It cost her more to stand there talking than +she had supposed it would when she took up the receiver. + +"I'm afraid I must--must stake my life on that. I--I can't stay now. I +can't come any more to see you, either. I've--I've given up posing. +G--good-by." + +She heard him beginning to protest from the other end. + +"No, Jennie! Wait! For God's sake!" + +But her putting-up of the receiver cut them off from each other. + +"So that's all over," she said to herself, turning again into the living +room. + +But she said it strongly, as Lizzie had many a time said similar things +on witnessing the death of hopes, with desolation in the heart, perhaps, +but no wish to cry. + +Meanwhile, Flynn and Jackman, trudging toward the car station in the +square, were discussing this strange case. + +"That was a funny line o' talk about the ox treadin' out the corn. I +never heard nothin' like that in our church." + +But Jackman, being a Methodist and a student of the Bible before coming +to New York and giving himself to detective work, was able to explain. + +"That's in the Old Testament, to begin with; but Paul takes it up and +says that, though it was meant, in the first place, to apply to the +animals, its real application is to man. 'That he that ploweth may plow +in hope, and that he that thresheth in hope should be partaker of his +hope'--that's the way it runs. That everyone should get a generous +living wage and not be cheated of it in the end is the way you might put +it into our kind of talk." + +"Is it now? And it do seem fair--don't it?--for all the old woman yonder +is so daft. And would that Paul be the same _Saint_ Paul as we've got in +our church?" + +"Oh, the very same." + +"Would he now? And you a Protestant! That's one thing I've often +wondered--why there had to be so many religions and everyone wasn't a +Catholic. It'd be just as easy, and cost us less. Ah, well! It's a quare +world, and that poor woman's had a powerful dose o' trouble. I don't +wonder she's got wheels in her head. Do you? Maybe you and me'd have +them if we'd gone through the same." Having thus worked up to his +appeal, he plunged into it. "I know wan little woman 'd be glad if I was +to come home to-night and tell her we'd called the thing off. That's my +Tessie. It's amazin' how she's set her heart on my not trackin' down +this boy." + +"Not to track him down would be to compound a felony," Jackman replied, +severely. + +"Ah, well! So it would, now. You sure have got the right dope there, +Jackman, and that I'll tell Tessie. I'll say I'd be compounding a +felony, and them words 'll scare her good." + +So Flynn, too, resigned himself, putting on once more the mask of craft +and implacability that was part of his stock in trade, and which Jackman +rarely took off. + + ---- + +And all that day Teddy lay crouched in his lair with his eye glued more +or less faithfully to the peephole. Except from hunger, he had suffered +but little, and the minutes had been too exciting to seem long in going +by. It was negative excitement, springing from what didn't happen; but +because something might happen, and happen at any instant, it was +excitement. From morning to midday, and from midday on into the +afternoon, cars, carts, and pedestrians traveled in and out of Jersey +City, each spelling possible danger. Now and then a man or a vehicle had +paused in the road within calling distance of the shanty. For two +minutes, for five, or for ten at a time, Teddy lay there wondering as to +their intentions and trying to make up his mind as to his own course. +Whether to shoot himself or make a bolt for it, or if he shot himself +whether it should be through the temple or the heart, were points as to +which he was still undecided. He would get inspiration, he told himself, +when the time came. He had often heard that in crises of peril the brain +worked quicker than in moments of tranquillity; and perhaps, after all, +a crisis of peril might not lie before him. + +In a measure, he was growing used to his situation as an outlaw; he was +growing used to the separation from the family. It was not that he loved +them less, but that he had moved on and left them behind. He could think +of them now without the longing to cry he had felt yesterday, while the +desperation of his plight centered his thought more and more upon +himself. If he didn't have to shoot himself, he planned, in as far as +plans were possible, to sneak away into the unknown and become a tramp. +He couldn't do it yet, because the roads were probably being watched for +him; but by and by, when the hunt had become less keen.... + +Seven doughnuts swallowed without a drop of water being far from the +nourishment to which he was accustomed, he waited with painful eagerness +for nightfall. When the primrose-colored lights up and down the road and +along the ragged fringe of the town were deepening to orange, he crept +forth cautiously. Even while half hidden by the sedgy grasses, he felt +horribly exposed, and when he emerged into the open highway, the eyes of +all the police in New York seemed to spy him through the twilight. +Nevertheless, he tramped back toward the dwellings of men, doing his +best to hide his face when motor lights flashed over him too vividly. + +Unable to think of anything better than to return to the friendly woman +who had given him seven doughnuts for his six, he found her behind her +counter, in company with a wispy little girl. + +"Ah, good-evening. Zo you'f come ba-ack. You fount my zandwiches naice." + +Teddy replied that he had, ordering six, with a dozen of her doughnuts. +Her manner was so affable that he failed to notice her piercing eyes +fixed upon him, nor did he realize how much a young man's aspect can +betray after twenty-four hours without water to wash in, as well as +without hairbrush or razor. He thought of himself as presenting the same +neat appearance as on the previous evening; but the woman saw him +otherwise. + +"I wonder if I could have a glass of water?" he asked, his throat almost +too parched to let the words come out. + +"But sairtainly." She turned to the child, whispering in a foreign +language, but using more words than the command to fetch a glass of +water would require. + +When the child came back, Teddy swallowed the water in one long gulp. +The woman asked him if he would like another glass, to which he replied +that he would. More instructions followed, and while the woman tied up +the sandwiches the little girl came back with the second glass. This +Teddy drank more slowly, not noticing as he did so that the little girl +slipped away. + +Nor did he notice as he left the shop and turned westward into the +gloaming, that the child was returning from what seemed like a hasty +visit to a neighbor's house across the street. Still less did he +perceive, when the comforting loneliness of the marshes began once more +to close round him, that a big, husky figure was stalking him. It had +come out of one of the tenements over the way from the pastry shop, +apparently at a summons from the wispy little girl. Like the men whom +Jennie had seen eying the house in the afternoon, he suggested the +guardianship of law, even though he was, so to speak, in undress +uniform. His duties for the day being over, he had plainly been taking +his ease in slippers, trousers, and shirt. Even now he was bareheaded, +pulling on his tunic as he went along. + +He didn't go very far, only to a point at which he could see the boy in +front of him turn into the unused path that led to the old shack. +Whereupon he nodded to himself and turned back to his evening meal. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Jennie's chief hesitation was as to cashing the checks, not because the +teller at the Pemberton National Bank didn't know her, but because he +did. To present a demand for money made out to Jane Scarborough Follett, +and signed, "R. B. Collingham, Jr.," was embarrassing. + +But she had grown since the previous afternoon, and embarrassment sat on +her more lightly. Like Teddy marooned on the marshes, she seemed to have +moved on, leaving her old self behind. Now she had things to do rather +than things to think about. One fact was a relief to her; she was no +longer under the necessity of betraying Bob. + +So she cashed her checks, and counted her money, finding that she had +two hundred and forty-five dollars. She didn't know how much Teddy had +taken from the bank; possibly more than this, possibly not so much; but +whatever the sum, this would go at least part of the way toward meeting +it. If she could meet it altogether, then, she argued, the law couldn't +touch him. + +On arriving at the bank her first sensation was one of confusion. There +seemed to be no one in particular to whom to state her errand. Men were +busy in variously labeled cages, and more men beyond them sat at desks +within pens. Two or three girls moved about with documents in their +hands, and there was a distant click of typewriters. People passed in +and out of the bank, occupied with their own affairs, and everyone, +clerk and client alike, had apparently a definite end in view. It was +like coming up against a blank wall of business, leaving no opening +through which to slip in. + +The weakest point seemed to be at a counter beneath the illuminated +sign, "Statements," where two ladies waited for custom, conversing in +the interim. Jennie stood unnoticed while the speaker for the moment +finished her narration, bringing it to its conclusion plaintively. + +"So when mother called in the doctor, it turned out to be a very bad +case of ty-_phoid_. Statement?" + +The question at the end being directed toward Jennie, the latter asked +if she could see Mr. Collingham. The reply was sharp; the tone quite +different from that of the domestic anecdote of which she had just heard +a portion. + +"Next floor. Take the elevator. Ask for Miss Ruddick." The voice resumed +its plaintiveness. "So we had him moved into the corner bedroom, and +sent for a trained nurse--" + +On getting out of the lift, Jennie found herself in a sort of lobby +where applicants for interviews sat with the hangdog look which such +postulants generally wear. A brisk little Jewess seated at a desk +murmured the name of each newcomer into a telephone, after which there +was nothing to do but take a chair and wait upon events. Now and then +some one came out from his conference, whereupon a messenger girl, +generally of Slavic or Hebraic type, would summon his successor. + +It was nearly an hour before Jennie was called to the office of Miss +Ruddick, who, with her practiced method of dealing with the importunate, +prepared to put her rapidly through her paces and land her again at the +lift. This Miss Ruddick did, not so much with the minimum of courtesy as +with the maximum of conscientiousness. Her aim was to save Jennie's time +as well as her own, in the altruistic spirit of Mr. Bickley's +principles. + +"How do you do? Are you the daughter of the Mr. Follett who used to be +with us here? So sorry for your loss, though it may be a release for +him, poor man. We never know, do we? Now what is it I can do for you?" + +Jennie said again that she hoped to see Mr. Collingham. + +"I think you'd better tell your errand to me." + +"I couldn't. I can only tell it to him." + +In saying this she supposed Miss Ruddick would understand the reference +to be to Teddy, whose story must by this time be ringing through the +bank. In spite of what Jackman had said on the previous afternoon, they +couldn't keep so serious a crime secret for more than a matter of hours. +But Miss Ruddick only seemed displeased by Jennie's insistence, +answering coldly, + +"If it's a job you're looking for, the best person to see would be--" + +And just then the communicating door opened and Collingham himself came +out. He was about to give some order to Miss Ruddick and pass on when +Jennie rose in such a way that his eye fell upon her. When a man's eye +fell upon Jennie his attention was generally arrested. In this case, it +was the more definitely arrested, for the reason that Jennie, timidly +and tremblingly, gave signs of having a request to make. + +"You wish to speak to me?" + +At this condescension Miss Ruddick was amazed, but, the responsibility +being taken off her hands, she was already capturing the minutes by +being "back on her job," according to her favorite expression. Jennie +could hardly speak for awe. She recalled what Mrs. Collingham had +said--a hard, stern, ruthless man, who kept her, her son, and her +daughter as puppets on his string. If he so treated his own flesh and +blood, how would he treat her? + +Following him into the private office, she reminded herself that she +must keep her head. She had come on a specific business, and to that +business she must confine herself. Her other relations with this +terrible man she must leave to his son to deal with. + +"Your name is--" + +His tone was courteous. They were both seated now--he at his desk, she +in a small chair at a respectful distance. The question surprised her, +for the reason that in her confusion she supposed that her identity was +known to him. + +"I'm Jennie Follett." His visible start did not make her situation +easier. She remembered that Mrs. Collingham had said that if he knew of +the tie between herself and Bob he would disinherit him on the spot. +Just what was implied by that she didn't understand, but it suggested +all that was most dramatic in the movies. To disarm his suspicions in +this direction, she hurried on to add, "I came about my brother." + +He relaxed slightly, leaning on the desk and examining her closely. + +"Oh, your brother!" + +"Yes, sir. I don't know how much money he's been taking from the bank--" + +Collingham's brows contracted. + +"Wait a minute. Has your brother been taking money from the bank?" + +At the thought that she might be making a false step, Jennie was +appalled. + +"Oh, don't you know that yet, sir?" + +"Don't I know it yet? I don't know what you're talking about at all." + +So the whole thing had to be explained. Two men had appeared on the +previous afternoon in Indiana Avenue, accusing Teddy of systematic +robbery. Teddy had so far corroborated the charge that he had absented +himself from home and work. He had called up once, nominally from +Paterson, but the two detectives didn't believe that it was. In any +case, she had a little money of her own--her very own--two hundred and +forty-five dollars it was--and as far as it would go she had come to +make restitution. If it wasn't enough, they would sell the house as soon +as they could get it on the market and pay up the balance, if he would +only give the order that Teddy shouldn't be sent to jail. + +Emboldened by his concentration on her story and herself, she took out +the roll of bills from her bag, enlarging on her plea. + +"You see, sir, it was this way. After my father had to leave the bank +last fall, Teddy had to be our chief support, just on his eighteen a +week. My two little sisters left school and went to work; but that +didn't bring in much. Then there were the taxes, and the mortgages, and +the expenses of my father's funeral, besides six of us having to eat--" + +"You were working, too, weren't you?" + +"Yes, sir; I was posing. But I only earned six a week." + +"Only?" + +Based on a memory of his own of something Junia had said--"a mousey +little thing with a veneer of modesty, but mercenary isn't the word for +her"--there was an implication in this "Only?" which escaped Jennie's +simplicity. + +"Yes, sir; that was all. Somehow I couldn't get the work. Nobody seemed +to want me." + +He pointed at her roll of bills. + +"Then where did you get the money you're holding in your hand?" + +The question was unexpected and confounding. She must either answer it +truly or not answer it at all. If she answered it truly, she not only +exposed Bob, but she exposed herself to the utmost rigor of his wrath. +She didn't care about herself; she didn't care much about Bob; she cared +only about Teddy. The utmost rigor of this man's wrath would send him to +jail as easily as she could brush a fly through an open window. She +could say nothing. She could only look at him helplessly, with lips +parted, eyes shimmering, and the hot color flooding her face pitiably. + +It was the kind of situation in which no man with the heart of a man +could be hard on any little girl; besides which, Collingham looked on +this silent confession as providential. It would enable him to reason +with Bob, if it ever came to that, and tell him what he, the father, +knew at first hand and from his own experience. Otherwise he brought no +moral judgment to bear on poor Jennie, and condemned her not at all. + +"Just wait a minute," he said, in a kindly tone, getting up as he spoke. +"I'll go and straighten the thing out." + +Left alone, Jennie had these concluding words to strengthen her. He +would straighten the thing out. That meant probably that Teddy wouldn't +have to go to jail, and beyond this relief she didn't look. It would be +everything. Nothing else would matter. He might be dismissed from the +bank; they might starve; but the great thing would be accomplished. + +It was a half hour or more before he returned, and when he did he looked +worried. "Troubled" would perhaps be a better word, since even Jennie +could see that his thoughts were farther away and deeper down than the +incidents on the surface. He spoke almost absent-mindedly. + +"I find there's been a leakage for some little time past, and they've +had difficulty in fixing where the trouble was. Now I'm sorry to say it +looks as if it was your brother. There's hardly any doubt about that--" + +"You see, sir," she pleaded, "it was so hard for him not to be able to +do anything when my father was so ill and my mother worried and the +bills piling up--they stopped our credit nearly everywhere--and the tax +people--they were the worst of all." + +"Yes, yes; I quite understand. And I've told them not to press the +matter further. Flynn and Jackman, the two men you saw yesterday, are +out for the minute; but when they come in they are to report to me. I +don't suppose we can take your brother back; but I'll see what I can do +for him elsewhere." He rose to end the interview, so that Jennie rose, +too. "You can keep that money," he added, nodding toward her roll of +bills. "You were not responsible, and there's no reason at all why you +should pay." + +When Jennie protested, he merely escorted her to the door, which he held +open. + +"No, don't thank me," he insisted. "Please! Just make your mind easy as +to your brother. The matter shall not go any farther. I don't know what +I can do for him as yet--the circumstances make it difficult; but I +shall find something." + +So, blinded with tears, Jennie made her way toward the lift, calling +down on Bob's father as well as on his mother all the blessings she was +able to invoke. + + ---- + +Late that afternoon, Teddy, on the floor of his hut, woke with a start +from a doze. He hadn't meant to doze, but he had slept little on the +preceding night, and was lulled, moreover, by a sense of his security. +The day had not been as exciting as the day before. Nothing having +happened during all those hours, he was growing convinced that nothing +would. In its way, safety was becoming irksome. He began to ask himself +whether the spirit of adventure didn't summon him to go forth as a tramp +that night. + +So he dozed--and so he waked, with a start. The start was possibly due +to a consciousness even in his sleep that there were people in the road. +He was frightened before he could put his eye again to the peephole. +Luckily the pistol was at hand, and _the other thing_ might now have to +be done. + +As a matter of fact it seemed likely. Two burly figures had already left +the highway, Flynn tramping along the flicker of path, and Jackman +picking his steps through the oozy mud a little to Flynn's right and a +little behind him. There was no secrecy about their approach, and +apparently no fear. + +"They don't suspect that I've got a gun," Teddy commented to himself. +"Lobley can't have told them." + +They were talking to each other, and, though Teddy could not make out +their words, he heard Flynn's gurgle of a laugh. To his fevered +imagination, it was a diabolic laugh, suggestive of handcuffs and +torture. + +The thought of handcuffs frenzied him. Of the sacrilegious touch on his +person, the links set the final mark. Rather than submit to them he +would shoot anyone, preferably himself. For shooting himself the minute +had come, and he decided to do it through the temple. The aim through +the heart might miscarry; there was no chance of miscarriage through the +brain. All that remained for him now was to know the moment when. + +"Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eyes." + +Some trick of memory brought the tag back to him. He knew that it +applied to the shooting of an enemy, but in this case it suited himself. +He couldn't see the whites of their eyes as yet, for through the grasses +and over the slimy ground they advanced but slowly. That gave him the +longer to live. He might live for three minutes, possibly for five. Even +a minute was something. + +But he was ready. He couldn't say that he had no fear, because he was +all fear; but for the very reason that he was all fear, he was frozen, +numb. Only, the hand that held the pistol shook. He couldn't control it. +All the more, then, must he do it through the brain, since he found by +experiment that he could steady the muzzle against his temple. He didn't +dare so to hold it long, lest that impulse of acting before he thought +might deprive him of these last precious seconds of life. So he let the +thing rest on the peephole, pointing outward, like a gun on board ship. +He found, too, that this steadied his eye. He could squint along the +barrel right at the two big figures lumbering through the morass. + +"Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eyes." + +Flynn looked up, a laugh on his lips at this absurd adventure. The boy +saw the whites of his eyes, and, as far as he himself knew, his mind +went blank. He always declared that he heard no sound. He only saw Flynn +throw up his arms with a kind of stifled shout--stagger--try to regain +his lost balance--and go tumbling, face downward, into the long grass. +Jackman fell, too, though not so prone but that he could partially raise +himself, half supported by his left arm, while, without being able to +face toward the road, he waved his right to the motors flashing by. + +For Teddy mind-action ceased. He was nothing but mad instinct. He knew +he must have fired--must have fired twice--that the hand that was to +shoot into his temple had betrayed him. He knew, too, that he couldn't +shoot into his temple--that great as was his terror of the handcuffs, +his terror of this thing was worse. Flinging the pistol across the +floor, his one impulse was to save himself. + +As he had foreseen, his mind, once it began to work, worked quickly. He +saw that the grass growing up to the door of the shack was tall, and +hardly beaten down by his footsteps. Lying flat like a lizard, he +wriggled his way into it. The very yielding of the swampy bottom beneath +his weight was in his favor. By a sense, such as that which had waked +him up, he knew that motors were stopping in the road, that people were +leaping out, that Flynn and Jackman were the objects of everyone's +concern, and that, in the mystery as to what had happened to them, no +one's attention was as yet directed to himself. He made for the back of +the shack, writhing his way round the two corners, and heading out +toward the center of the marsh. It was needful to do this, since the +shanty and its neighborhood would soon be explored, and he must, if +possible, be lost in the swampy tracklessness. + +Though progress of necessity was slow, he was amazed at the distance he +was putting between himself and danger. Oh, if it was only night! If a +thundercloud would only come up and darken the sky! But it was the +brilliant, pitiless sunshine of an August afternoon, with not a shred of +atmosphere to help him. Still he writhed and writhed and writhed his way +onward, making the pace of a snake when half of its body is dead. He was +no longer Teddy Follett; he was no longer so much as an animal. He was +one big agony of mind, which becomes an agony of body; and yet he was +eager to live. + +He began to think that he might live. He seemed as far away from the +peril behind him as the woods thing that gives its hunter the slip in +the green depths of the covert. Dogs might be able to track him, but not +men alone; and while they were bringing up the bloodhounds he might.... + +And then he heard a shout that struck through him like paralysis. + +"There he is! I see him!" + +"Where? Where?" + +"That line behind the shack--don't you see?--a little streak right +through the grass." + +"No; I don't see anything." + +"Come along and I'll show you. Come along, boys. We'll get him. He's +only going on his belly." + +"Yes, and be croaked, like this poor guy! Don't forget that the bird +over there can give you a dose of lead." + +So Flynn was dead! That was the meaning of that. Teddy had killed a man. +Perhaps he had killed two men. He hadn't taken time to think of it +before; but now that he did, he lay stricken in every muscle of his +frame, his face in the mud, and his fingers dug into the queachy roots +of the sedges. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +The guests went early. It was a relief to have them go. Not that they +differed from other guests to whom Collingham Lodge was accustomed to +open its doors, or that the dinner was less fastidiously good than Junia +was in the habit of giving. Dinner and guests had both been up to form; +and yet it was a relief when the last car glided from beneath the +portico. + +"Why do you suppose it is?" + +Junia had asked this question so often of late that Collingham had +ceased to try to answer it. Instead, he lit a cigar and strolled to the +open French window. He, too, found it a relief to relax in the company +of his family, though less puzzled than Junia at the state of mind. + +"Oh, come out!" Edith called from the terrace. "It's heavenly." + +It was a soft, warm, velvety night, starlit and voluptuous. The air +astir was just enough to carry the scents of roses, honeysuckle, +mignonette, and new-mown hay. Except for the dartings of small living +things and the occasional peep of a half-awake bird, there was no sound +but that of the plash of the fountains on the terraces. Edith went in +for a light wrap for her mother; Collingham, his cigar in hand, dropped +into the teakwood chair. + +"It isn't our dinners only," Junia complained, when, with the wrap about +her shoulders, she had settled herself in the wicker armchair she +preferred; "it's all dinners. It's just as if people didn't enjoy them +any more." + +"Well, they don't." Edith half loungingly swung herself in a Gloucester +hammock. "What we've got to learn, mother dear, is that entertaining, as +we called it, was a pre-war habit which we've outlived in spirit, though +we haven't quite come to the point in fact." + +"There's something in that," Collingham agreed. + +"And yet there's got to be hospitality," Junia reasoned. "You can't just +live and die to yourself." + +Edith swung lazily. + +"Hospitality, yes; but isn't there a difference between that and +entertaining?" + +"If so, what is it?" + +"I'm not sure that I can say. Isn't the one a permanent necessity, and +the other merely a custom that can go out of date?" + +"Between your custom that can go out of date and your permanent +necessity, I don't see that there's much distinction." + +"Well, there is, mother dear. It's like this: Entertaining is giving +people something they don't particularly want and which you expect them +to repay; while hospitality is opening your house to people in need, +whether they can repay you or not." + +"Oh, if we're going to open our houses to people in need--" + +"Well, what?" + +"I'm sure I don't know what; nor you, either." + +"And that's just it. We're halting between two states of mind. Ever +since the war began, mere entertaining bores us; and we're terrified at +the idea of genuine hospitality; so there we are. We still give dinners +and go to them; but when we do we feel it's something fatuous, which +can't help making us dull." + +Out of the silence that ensued Collingham said, moodily: + +"It's all very fine to talk of opening your house to people in need; but +it's not as easy as it looks." + +"Is anything ever as easy as it looks, dad? Don't we shirk the social +problems that are upsetting the world by declaring them impossible to +solve, when a material difficulty only puts us on our mettle?" + +He turned this over. All that day he had been calculating his own +possible responsibility in Teddy Follett's going wrong, and was thinking +of it now. In the end he said: + +"All the same you've got to follow the regular trend. If you were in +business you'd know. You can't do things differently from other people. +You may be as sorry as you like not to be able to help; but if you +can't, you can't--and there's an end of it." + +"Mr. Ayling in his new book, _Social Problems and the Individual_, says +there's a distinction to be drawn between _can't_ and _can't_--there's +the can't that comes from lack of ability, and the can't that springs +from the accepted standard. He says--" + +"I don't believe your father is at all interested in that, Edith dear." + +"Oh yes; let her go on. I'm not afraid of what Ayling thinks." + +But before Edith could resume the attention of all three was called by +the tinkle of the telephone bell in the library, which could be +approached from the terrace through the drawing-room. With a muttered, +"Who's ringing up at this time of night?" Collingham dragged himself in +to answer it. The women remained silent, each listening to see if the +call was for her. + +"Yes?... This is Mr. Collingham.... Who?... Oh, it's you, Mr. Brunt?... +Yes?... What did you say?... Killed? Who's killed?... Not Flynn the +detective, who comes in and out of the bank?... Indeed! Dear me! Dear +me! Where was it?... Who did it?... Not that boy?... Oh, my God!... What +happened?... Tell me quickly.... Over beyond Jersey City! Yes? Yes?... +And they've got him?... In the Brig? That's the Ellenbrook jail, isn't +it?... Jackman, too, did you say?... Wounded, but not killed.... +Badly?... Oh, the poor fellow!... In the hospital?... That's right.... +Has anyone communicated with his family?... Good! Good!... And Flynn's +wife?... Oh, the poor woman!... And the boy's family?... You don't know +anything? Then no one has informed his mother?... Not that you know +of.... I see.... He's to be brought into court to-morrow morning.... +Poor little devil!... Oh, I know he doesn't deserve pity, but--but I +can't help it, Brunt. His father was with us so long and--and one thing +and another!... No; I'll appear in court myself and see what I can do +for him.... Good night, then. I'll see you in the morning." + +"What boy can that be?" Junia whispered, as her husband hung the +receiver in its place. + +"I'm sure I don't know--unless--unless it's the Follett boy." + +"Oh, I hope not. It would make such awful complications." + +They waited for Collingham to come and tell them his plainly thrilling +news, but he remained in the library. + +"It _would_ make complications," Edith ventured, in a low voice, "if it +proved to be young Follett--with Bob in love with his sister." + +Junia spoke not so much from impulse as from inspiration. + +"He's more than in love with her. He's married to her." + +"Mother!" + +"Yes; he was married to her a few days before he sailed. I've known it +all along." + +Edith was breathless. + +"Did he tell you?" + +"No; she did." + +"She? The Follett girl? Why, mother!" + +Junia rose. She knew that if her suspicions were correct she would have +things to do before she slept. + +"Go to bed now, dear; and I'll come to your room and give you the whole +story. In the meantime I may have to tell your father." + +"You mean to say that he doesn't know?" + +"No; not yet. I've been rather hoping that before I told him Bob +would--would see his way out of the mess." + +"He'll never do that, never in this world--not according to what he's +said to me." + +"Oh, well, he didn't know everything then that he'll have to know now. +But go and say good night to your father; and I'll come up by the time +you're in bed." + +"Mother, you're amazing!" Edith spoke more in awe than in admiration; +but she obeyed orders by going to her father. + +She found him still sitting in the chair by the telephone, bowed +forward, his elbows on his knees, and his forehead in his hands. When he +lifted his haggard eyes toward her she stood still. + +"Daddy, what in the world has happened? Who is it that has killed some +one? We couldn't help hearing that much." + +He raised himself. "Come here." + +Going forward, she knelt down beside him, taking his hand and kissing +it. + +"You poor daddy! You're bothered, aren't you?" + +"It's--it's young Follett. He's been stealing money from the bank, and +now he's shot one of the detectives who heard he was hiding in a cabin +out on the New Jersey marshes. They'd sent out a description of him to +the suburban stations. And only to-day I told his sister that I'd call +the thing off and give him another chance." + +"She came to see you?" + +"She came to see me." + +"Then you did what you could, didn't you?" + +"I did what I could--then." In spite of the emphasis on the final word, +he slapped his knee with new conviction. "I've done what I could all +through. It's no use saying I haven't, because I have. There's just so +much you can do, and you can't do any more. You can't make a business a +home for indigent old gentlemen--now, can you?" + +He sprang to his feet, leaving her kneeling by the chair. + +"No, I don't suppose you can," she assented, rising slowly. "But I do +wish you'd talk to Mr. Ayling sometime, daddy. He seems to see all these +things from new points of view--" + +He was pacing about the room very much like Max in moments of agitation. + +"Oh, new points of view! There's only one point of view, I tell you, and +that's the one on what we've made the country prosperous." + +She smiled wistfully. + +"Prosperous for some." + +"Well, that's better than prosperous for nobody, isn't it?" + +She said good night to him then, for the reason that she herself was so +stirred that she needed seclusion in which to think these strange things +over. That Bob should have married Jennie Follett was a shock in itself; +but that through his wife he should now be involved in this frightful +tragedy was something that her mind found it hard to take in. It was the +first time that she had ever come so close to the more terrible +happenings in life. + +Meanwhile, Junia, overhearing what was said, reconstructed her plan of +campaign. In common with great generals, she possessed the faculty of +rapid revision, as events took place differently from the way she had +expected. By the time she heard Edith go upstairs she had foreseen the +line of action which the new situation forced on them. + +Collingham was still lashing about the library when she appeared on the +threshold. Her calmness arrested him. In a measure it soothed him. It +was the kind of juncture in which she always knew what to do, and he had +confidence in her judgment. When she said, "Sit down, Bradley; I've +something to say," he obeyed her quietly, relighting his cigar. As she, +too, sat down, Max or Dauphin would have noted in her the aura of +authority which a master wears when about to lecture a schoolboy. + +"I've something startling to tell you, Bradley; but I want to say +beforehand that you mustn't get worked up, because I see a way out." + +Taking his cigar from his lips, he looked at her sidewise. His +expression said, "What's it going to be now?" + +"What I've heard you telling Edith about this young Follett killing a +detective concerns us more closely than you may think, because Bob is +married to his sister." + +He laid his cigar on an ash tray, swung round to the table between them, +clasped his fingers, and leaned on his outstretched elbows. His tone was +quiet, even casual. + +"When did he do that?" + +"Just before he sailed." + +"Then I'm through with him." + +"Oh no, you're not, Bradley! He's your son, whether he's married anyone +or not." + +"I can't help his being my son; but I can help having anything more to +do with him." + +"Listen, Bradley. This whole thing is going to be in the papers in the +course of two or three days; and you must come through it with honors. +It's perfectly simple to do it, and win everyone's respect and sympathy. +In addition to that you can get Bob's devoted affection; and you know +how much that means to us all." + +To Collingham it meant so much that he listened to her attentively, with +eager eyes. In Bob's marriage, with its attendant circumstances, they +had obviously received a shock. All Marillo Park, as well as the public +in general, would know it to be a shock and would be watching to see how +they took it. In that case, the best thing was the sporting thing. They +must stand right up to the facts and accept them. Everyone knew that the +younger generation was peculiar. It was the war, Junia supposed, and yet +she didn't know. In any case, it was not the Collinghams alone who were +so afflicted, but dotted all over Marillo were families whose young ones +were acting strangely. There were the Rumseys, whose twin sons had +refused an uncle's legacy amounting to something like three millions, +because they held views opposed to the owning of private property. There +were the Addingtons, whose son and heir had married a girl twice +imprisoned as a Red and was believed to have gone Red in her company. +There were the Bendlingers, whose daughter had eloped with a chauffeur, +divorced him, and then gone back and married him again. These were +Marillo incidents, and in no case had the parents found any course more +original than the antiquated one of discarding and disinheritance. And +yet you couldn't wash your hands of your flesh and blood like that. They +were your flesh and blood whatever they did; and it was idiotic to act +as if you could cut the tie between yourself and them. He could see for +himself that Rumseys, Addingtons, and Bendlingers had lost rather than +gained in general esteem by their melodramatic poses. + +Now, the thing for the Collinghams was to accept the situation with a +great big generous heart. They were to open their arms to Bob, and back +him loyally in the combination of difficulties he had to swing. But he +himself must swing them. Junia laid emphasis on that. By direct action +they couldn't intervene. They could only make it possible for him to act +directly on his own responsibility. He had married a wife whose family +was in trouble. They, the Collinghams, would not share that trouble, but +they would help him to share it, since he had brought on himself the +necessity for doing so. + +To accomplish this, Junia suggested sending to Bob a cablegram covering +the following five points. The Follett boy was in jail charged with +murdering a detective; Bob should publish at once his marriage to this +boy's sister; he should return to New York by the first convenient +steamer; his father was placing ten thousand dollars to his account, and +when that was used would place more; he was also ready, if instructed by +Bob, to engage the best counsel in New Jersey to defend the boy. + +"That will take care of everything till he gets here," Junia concluded, +"and in the meantime, we can't do better, it seems to me, than go up, as +we always do at this time of year, to our camp in the Adirondacks. This +house can be kept open for Bob when he arrives, and Gull can stay with +one of the motors to run him in and out of town." + +"And what are we to do about the girl?" + +"Nothing. That isn't for us to take up. We must leave it to Bob. If he +ever brings her to us as his wife--But, then, he never may." + +"What makes you think so?" + +Her superb eyes covered him with their fine, audacious, womanly regard. + +"I'd tell you, Bradley, if--if I didn't think there are things that had +better not go into words, even between you and me. Whatever Bob +discovers will be his own affair. You and I had best know as little as +possible. We can back Bob up, and that's all we can do. Everything else +he will have to work out for himself. By the time he's done that he'll +be a grown-up man. It's possible he's needed something of the sort to +develop him." + +So Collingham telephoned his cablegram to Bob, and went to bed +comforted. Next morning, on arriving at the bank, he found Junia's +counsels supported by the best opinion among his co-workers. That is, he +changed his mind as to going to the court in Ellenbrook for the first +hearing of the Follett boy, or otherwise expressing himself toward the +Follett family. He had given Bob the means of doing whatever needed to +be done, and Bob had the cable at his disposition. To go to the court, +or to express sympathy in any way, would, according to Bickley, be +dangerous to discipline. Feeling in the bank was extremely hostile to +young Follett, and it was better that it should remain so. The bank +employee's cast of mind, so Bickley said, was, not revolutionary or +rebellious against acknowledged rights. By sheer force of habit, it was +schooled to reverence for life and property. The principle of ownership +being holier to it than any tenet of religion, the Follett boy could not +be looked upon otherwise than as an enemy of mankind; and this was as it +should be. + + ---- + +While Collingham thus weighed the counsels offered him at the bank, +Gussie Follett was blindly making her way homeward from Corinne's with a +paper so folded in her hand as not to display its headlines. She had +gone to her work with comparative cheerfulness, since, on the previous +day, Jennie had been assured by no less authority than Mr. Collingham +himself that Teddy should not be sent to jail. So long as he was not +sent to jail, they would be free from public comment, and, free from +public comment, they could "manage somehow." Managing somehow being an +art in which they had gained authority, they were not afraid of that, +even though it involved parting with the one great asset against +calamity, the house. + +Gussie's first intimation of bad news came when, on entering the shop, +she found the four or five other girls huddled round Corinne. Her +appearance made them start as if she was a ghost. Her own heart sank at +that, though she hailed this shudder with a laugh. + +"Say, girls, is this the big reel in 'The Specter Bride'?" + +Corinne, whose real name was Mamie Callaghan, emerged from a miniature +forest of upright metal rods crowned with hats at various roguish +angles. A dark, wavy-nosed woman of cajoling Irish witchery, she could +hardly keep the prank from her voice even at such a time as this. + +"So, Gussie, you don't know! Well, some one's got to break it to you, +and I guess it'll have to be me." + +But it was broken already, even before Corinne had brought forward the +paper she was hiding behind her back. + +"Teddy!" Gussie cried out. "There's something about him in that thing. +Let me see it! Let me see it!" + +Corinne let her see it, and the work was done. Gussie couldn't read +beyond the headlines with their "Robbery" and "Murder" in Italic +capitals, but she grasped enough. The snapshot of Teddy taken in the +road, just as he had been dragged, a mass of slime, out of the morass, +made her reel backward as if about to fall; but when Eily O'Brien sprang +to her support she waved her away gently. She was not going to faint. +Her physical strength wouldn't leave her, whatever else was gone. + +"I'm--I'm going home," was all she said, crushing the paper against her +breast. + +"Oh, Gus, lemme go with you!" Eily had begged; but this kindness, too, +Gussie put away from her. + +She could go alone, and alone she went, with one consuming thought as +she sped along. + +"Oh, momma! Poor momma! This'll about finish her." + +And yet when she entered the living-room her mother was sitting, calm +and serene, while Mr. Brunt told the tale of the New Jersey marshes. +Jennie, white, tearless, terrified, crept up to Gussie, and the two +clung together as their mother said, in her steady voice. + +"So I understand that only one of them is dead--the Irish one." + +Mr. Brunt assented. + +"Yes, Flynn, the Irish one." + +"I'm not surprised. I told him when he was here the other day that what +he called 'law and order' would bring him to grief, as they bring most +of us, though I didn't expect it to be so soon. And my son, you say, is +in jail." + +"At Ellenbrook." + +"They'll try him, I suppose." + +"I'm afraid so." + +"And then they'll send him to the chair." Mr. Brunt didn't answer. "Oh, +you needn't be afraid to speak of it. I know they will. I'm not sorry. +Teddy will be sorry, of course--till it's over. But I'd rather he'd +suffer a little now and be done with it than go through the hell of +years his father and I have had. If there was going to be any chance for +him, it would be different; but there's no chance, not the way the world +is organized now." + +The girls crept forward together. + +"Momma darling--" + +But Lizzie resumed, calmly: + +"Where there's nothing but government by the strong for the strong, +people like ourselves must go under. You'll go under, too, Mr. Brunt. +You belong to the doomed class. The workingman will soon be getting +share and share alike with the capitalist; and the white-collar crowd +will be kicked about by both. If we had the pluck to fight as the +workingman has fought, we might save something even now; but we haven't, +and so there's no hope for us. Law and order have us by the throat, and +we must suffer till they strangle us. Well, my boy will soon be out of +it--thank God!--and all I ask is to follow him." + +When Mr. Brunt got himself to the door, Jennie went with him, as she had +done with Flynn and Jackman two days earlier. She did this in the dazed +condition of a woman who performs some little act of courtesy during +shipwreck, while waiting for the vessel to go down. + +"You must excuse my mother, Mr. Brunt. Ever since my father died her +mind's been unsettled, and we don't know what to make of her." + +But Mr. Brunt's demeanor did not encourage conversation. To do him +justice, the mission on which Collingham had sent him had been repugnant +for other reasons than the breaking of bad news. His mind being of the +cast Bickley had analyzed that morning, Teddy's theft filled him with +more horror than his killing of a man. To come so near to crime against +the ownership of bank notes inspired him with a physical loathing which +even Jennie's loveliness couldn't mitigate. It was as if she herself was +tainted by some horrible infection, making it a relief to him to get +away from her. + +But turning to re-enter the house, she felt again that access of new +strength which had come to her repeatedly during the past few days. It +was as if resources of her being never taxed before were now offering +themselves for use. What she had to do was in the forefront of her +thought rather than what some one else had done. What some one else had +done was already in the past. That was made for her and couldn't be +helped; whereas her own duties imperatively summoned her to look ahead. + +"Teddy will need a suitcase of clean things," was the direct expression +of these thoughts before she had recrossed the threshold. + +Having said this aloud to Gussie, Gussie's mind could also tackle the +minor concrete details to the exclusion of the bigger considerations +involved in Teddy's plight. That the honest, loving, skylarking boy whom +they had grown up with could be a thief and a murderer was something the +intelligence rejected as it rejected dreams. They could, therefore, take +the new straw suitcase which had once been a family present to Gussie, +and which she had never used, pack it with Teddy's other suit and the +necessary linen, as if he were really at Paterson or Philadelphia. + +"How shall we get it to him?" Gussie asked, when the work was done. + +"I'll take it," Jennie answered, "if you'll stay and look after momma." + +"Momma won't need much looking after--the way she is." + +"Well, that's one comfort anyhow. With this to go through with I'm glad +her mind's not what it used to be." + +So, stunned and dry eyed, they caught on to the new conditions by doing +little perfunctory things, consoling and helping each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Teddy's first night in a cell was more tolerable than it might have been +for the reason that his faculties seemed to have stopped working. As +nearly as possible he had become an inanimate thing, to be struck, +pulled, hustled, and chucked wherever they chose. Not only had he no +volition, but little or no sensation. A dead body or a sack of flour +could hardly have been more lost to a sense of rebellion or indignity. + +It was not that he didn't suffer, but that suffering had reached the +extreme beyond which it makes no further impression. Nothing registered +any more--no horror, no brutalities, no curses or kicks. As far as he +could take account of himself, the Teddy Follett even of the shack had +been left behind in some vanished world, while the thing that had hands +and feet was a clod unable to resent the oaths and blows and flingings +to and fro which were all it deserved. + +Once he had heard that shout, "I see him!" in the road, he had been like +an insect paralyzed by terror that doesn't dare to move. He had lain +there till they came and got him. It was not fear alone that pinned him +to the spot; his bodily strength had given out. For forty-eight hours he +had eaten but little and drunk only the two glasses of water in the +pastry shop. Though he had slept the first night, the second had been +passed in a fevered, intermittent doze. Furthermore, the agony of +approaching suicide had drained his natural forces. + +So he lay still while the hue and cry of the man hunters quickened and +waxed behind him. Escape was out of the question, since, even if he had +the strength to drag himself a few yards farther, they would run him +down in the end. Resistance, too, would be hopeless, with, as he judged, +some twenty or thirty in the posse. + +He could feel their fury growing as they slipped and slithered through +the grasses. Oaths, obscenities, and laughter accompanied every +grotesque accident, as one man fell with the weedy tangle about his +feet, or another went knee-deep into the swamp. The very fear of "a dose +of lead" intensified their excitement till, as they caught sight of him, +a helpless thing with face hidden in the mud, they gave vent to a yell +of satisfaction. + +They didn't let him rise; they didn't so much as pull him to his feet. +They dragged him by his collar, by his hair, by his arms, by his legs, +by anything they could seize, kicking, beating, and cursing him. He made +no outcry; he didn't speak a word. For aught they knew, he might be +drunk or insane or dead. Only once, when a man kicked him in the face, +was he powerless to suppress a groan. Otherwise, he was just a sodden +lump of flesh as, now head first, now feet first, now with face upward, +now with face downward he was tugged and tumbled and hurtled and rolled +over the five hundred yards of slime between the spot where they had +caught him and the road. + +There he had a new experience. He learned what it was not only to be +outside the human race, but to be held as its foe. Already, while still +far out on the marsh, he had heard the yells: "Kill him! Kill him! Kick +the damn skunk to death!" But when actually surrounded by these howling, +screaming, outraged citizens, with their teams and motor cars banked in +the roadway, he tasted the peculiar astonishment of the man who has +always been liked when assailed by a storm of hatred. While the three or +four police who by this time had appeared did their best to defend him, +men fought with one another to get at him. A well-dressed girl of not +more than eighteen reached over the shoulder of one of the police and +struck him on the head with her sunshade. An elderly woman squeezed +herself near him and spat in his face. + +"Ah, say, people," one of the police called out, "give the young guy a +chanst. Can't you see he's only a kid?" + +"'Kid' be damned!" came the response. "Say, fellows, here's the +telegraph pole! Let's lynch him!" + +"Lynch him! Lynch him! String him up!" + +"No! Let's make a bonfire and burn him alive!" + +"Chuck the cops into the Hackensack, and then we can do as we like." + +"Lynch him! Lynch him! Lynch him!" + +Teddy didn't care whether they lynched him or not. In as far as he could +form a wish he wished they would; but then he was past forming wishes. +They could string him up to the telegraph pole or burn him alive just as +they felt inclined; for he had traveled beyond fear. + +Just then the crowd parted, the police van drove up, and his protectors +dragged him to its shelter. Even then there was a new sensation in store +for him. The parting of the crowd showed Flynn lying by the roadside, +also waiting for the van. He was on his back, his knees drawn up, his +mouth dropped open. Waistcoat and shirt had been torn apart, and Teddy +saw a red spot. + +He started back. Except for the groan when he had been kicked in the +face, it was the only time he opened his lips. + +"I didn't do that!" he cried, so loud that a jeer broke from the crowd. + +A policeman shook him by the arm. + +"Say, sonny, you didn't do that?" + +Appalled by the sight of the dead man, Teddy could do no more than +stupidly shake his head. + +"Then who in hell did? Tell us that." + +But the boy collapsed, his head sagging, his knees giving way under him. +When he returned to consciousness he was lying in the dark, jolting, +jolting, jolting, on the floor of the police van. + +At the station he was pulled out again. He could stand now, and walk, +though not very well. Hands supported him as he stumbled up the steps +and into a room where a man in uniform sat behind a desk, while three or +four police and half a dozen unexplained hangers-on stood about idly. + +"A live one," the policeman who led Teddy called out, jocosely, as they +approached the desk. + +"Looks like a dead one," the man behind the desk replied, with the same +sense of humor. "Looks like he'd been dead and buried and dug up again." + +The allusion to Teddy's hatless, mud-caked appearance raised a laugh. + +The man behind the desk dipped his pen in the ink bottle and drew up a +big ledger. + +"Name?" + +Teddy could just articulate. "Edward Scarborough Follett." + +"Gee, whiz! Guess you'll have to spell it out." + +Teddy spelled slowly, as if the letters were new to him. Having done +this, he was asked no more questions. Explanations came from the officer +who had "run him in" and who produced the automatic pistol picked up on +the floor of the shack. When it was stated in addition that Teddy was +charged with shooting and killing Peter Flynn, whom all of them knew and +to whom they were bound by ties of professional solidarity, the boy felt +the half-friendly indifference with which the spectators had seen him +come in change to sullen hostility. + +The formulas fulfilled, he was seized more roughly than before, to be +half led, half pushed, along a dim hall and down a dimmer flight of +steps to a worn, stone-flagged basement pervaded by dankness and a smell +of disinfectants. The corridor into which they turned was long and +straight and narrow like a knife-cut through a cheese. On the left a +blank stone wall was the blanker for its whitewash; on the right, a row +of little doors diminished down the vista to the size of pigeonholes. +Pressed close to the square foot of grating inset in each door was a +human face eager to see who was coming next, while the officer was +greeted with howls of rage or whining petitions or strings of ugly +words. + +They stopped at the first open door, and after one glance within Teddy +started back. + +"Don't put me in there, for Jesus' sake!" + +The cry was involuntary, since he knew he would be put in there in any +case. + +"Ah, go in wid you!" + +A shove sent him over the threshold with such force that he fell on the +wooden bunk which was all the dog hole contained, while the door clanged +behind him. + +All that night he lay in a stupor induced by misery. No one came near +him; no food or drink was offered him. Thirst made him slightly +delirious, which was a relief. Now and then, when his real consciousness +partially returned he muttered, half aloud: + +"I didn't do it. My hand might have done it--but that wasn't me." + +The crepuscular light of morning was not very different from the +darkness of night, but it brought his senses back to him sluggishly. +Bruised as he was in body, he was still more bruised in mind, and could +render to himself no more than a vague account of what had happened +yesterday. When a tin of water and a hunk of bread were mysteriously +pushed into the cell, he consumed them like an animal, lying down again +on the bunk. Without water for a wash, his face and hair were still +caked with the mud which also stiffened his clothing. + +"My God! what's that?" + +Not having seen him before, the guard who summoned him to court was +startled by the apparition that crawled to the threshold of the cell +when the door was unlocked. The semblance to a boy was little more exact +than that of a snow man to a man. + +"Ah! my God! my God! Sure you can't go into court like that. They +wouldn't know you was a human bein', let alone a prisoner. Wait a bit, +and I'll get you somethin' to wash up in." + +There followed a little rough kindliness, scouring and brushing and +combing the lad into something less like a monstrosity. Teddy submitted +as a child does and with a child's indifference to cleanliness. + +So, too, he submitted in court, hardly knowing where he was or the +significance of these formalities. Apart from the relief he got from his +own reiterations, "I didn't do it, I didn't do it," the proceedings were +a blur to him. When he was led out again down more steps, along more +corridors, and cast into another stale and disinfected cell, he took it +with the same brutish insensibility. He didn't know that the new cell +was in that part of the House of Detention known as Murderers' Row, nor +did he heed the hoarse questions whispered through the next-door +grating, and which he could barely catch as they stole along the wall. + +"Say, who'd ye do in? Did he croak right off? My guy didn't croak till +three weeks after I give him the lead, and now they can't send me to the +chair nohow. In luck, ain't I?" + +To Teddy, this uncanny recitation was no more than the other sounds +which smote the auditory nerve but hardly penetrated to the brain. They +were all abnormal sounds, sprung of abnormal conditions, breaking in on +a silence which was otherwise that of the sepulcher. Footsteps +clanked--and then all was still; a door banged--and then all was still; +a raucous voice shouted out a curse--and then all was still. The +stillness was as ghostly as the sound, only that, as far as Teddy was +concerned, so little reached his massacred perceptions. + +The rattle of keys and the clanging of the door! He looked up from the +bunk on the edge of which he was sitting listlessly. + +"Lady to see you!" + +This guard was young, smart, debonair, with a twinkle in his eye, and +the first who didn't treat a comrade's murderer with instinctive +animosity. Teddy got up and followed him in the stupefied bewilderment +with which he had done everything else that day. Lady to see him! The +words seemed to refer to something so far back in his history that he +could hardly recall what it was. Once upon a time there had been a +mother, a Jennie, a Gussie, and a Gladys; but they were now remote and +shadowy. + +Along corridors, up steps, and then along more corridors he tramped, +till they stopped at an open door--and there he saw Jennie. In a room +unspeakably bare and forbidding in spite of a table and half a dozen +chairs she waited for him with a smile. He, too, did his best to smile, +but his lower lip, swollen with the kick that had caught him in the +mouth, made the effort nothing but a rictus. + +For this, Jennie had been prepared by the snapshot in the paper. All the +while she had been on the way to him she had been saying to herself that +she must show no sign of horror or surprise. Even though she would +follow the cue of her poor demented mother and pretend that he was in +prison as a martyr, she would take no pitying or tragic note. She went +forward, therefore, and threw her arms about him with the same offhand, +unsentimental pleasure which she would have shown in meeting him after a +brief absence at any time. + +"You darling Ted! We're so glad to have found you. I thought I'd just +run down and bring you some clean clothes." + +It was better done than she thought she had the strength for, perhaps +because his need was greater than she had supposed possible. Could she +have dreamt beforehand that Teddy would ever look like this, she would +have screamed from fright. But now that he did, she rose to the fact, +seemingly taking it for granted, actually taking it for granted, through +some hitherto unsuspected histrionic force. Within a minute of his +arrival they were seated near each other, in a curious make-believe that +the conditions were not terrible. + +With this familiar presence beside him, Teddy's mind resumed +functioning, possibly to his regret. Home was close to him again, while +the loved faces came back to life. + +"How's ma?" + +The question was indistinct because, now that it came to making +conversation, he found that his tongue was thickened in addition to his +swollen lip. Jennie replied that their mother's health was never better. + +"I suppose"--he balked a little but forced himself onward--"I suppose +she feels pretty bad--over me." + +"No, she doesn't. She told me to tell you so." She was determined to +speak truthfully in this respect, so that if their mother's dementia +could do him any good, he shouldn't fail of it. "She told me to say that +you were not to be sorry for anything you'd done, no matter how they +punished you." + +"Does she--does she know what I've done?" + +She threw it off, as if casually. + +"She knows all that's been in the papers; and I don't believe they've +left anything out, not judging by the things they've said." + +"How's Gussie? How's Gladys?" + +Having answered these questions to the best of her ability, Jennie +raised the subject of what she could bring him to eat. The guard who had +remained in the room informed her that she could bring him anything, at +which she promised to return next day. For the minute she was at the end +of her forces. If she went on much longer they would snap. + +"I'll run away now, Ted," she said, rising. "It's splendid to see you so +bucked up. I'll be here again about this time to-morrow, and bring you +something nice. Momma's busy already making you a fruit cake." She +added, as she held him by the hand, "I suppose you'll have to have a +lawyer." + +A memory came to him like that of something heard while under an +anaesthetic. + +"I think the judge said this morning that he'd appoint some one to--to +defend me." + +"Oh, we'll do better than that," she smiled, cheerily. "I've got some +money. We'll have a lawyer of our own." + +The journey home was the hardest thing Jennie had ever had to face. +Teddy! Teddy! Teddy brought to this! It was all she could say to +herself. The bare fact dwarfed all its causes, immediate or remote. + +Eager for privacy in which to sob, she was speeding along Indiana Avenue +when, happening to glance in the direction of her home, she saw Gladys +standing on the sidewalk. Gladys, having at the same minute perceived +her, started with a violent bound in her direction. She, too, had a +newspaper in her hand, leading Jennie to expect a repetition of Gussie's +episode that morning. + +It was such a repetition, and it was not. It was, to the extent that +Gladys had been informed of Teddy's drama much as her elder sister at +Corinne's, though later in the day. At a minute when trade was slack and +Gladys ruminantly chewing gum, Miss Hattie Belweather, a cash girl in +the gloves, slipped up to her to say: + +"Oh, Gladys Follett, if you knew what Sunshine Bright's been saying +about you, _you'd_ never speak to her again!" Hattie Belweather, who had +the blank, innocent expression of a sheep, having paused for the natural +inquiry, went on breathlessly. "She says your brother Teddy robbed a +bank and killed a man and is in jail over at Ellenbrook and--" + +Such foolish calumny Gladys could so far contemn as to say with quiet +force: + +"You tell Sunshine Bright that the next time I go by the notions I'll +stop and break her neck. See?" + +Hattie Belweather, having sped away to carry this challenge, Gladys +found herself confronted by Miss Flossie Grimm, a saleslady in the +stockings, to which department Gladys herself in a minor capacity was +also attached. Feeling that the Follett child was ignorant of facts of +which she should be in possession, Miss Grimm said, reprovingly: + +"You've got a chunk of gall! Look at that!" + +_That_ was one of the papers giving the story of Teddy's downfall, so +that Gladys, too, was soon making her way homeward. But she was not a +cash girl for nothing, while the instincts of the city _gamine_ endowed +her with alertness of mind beyond either of her sisters. She remembered +that the paper she had seen was a morning one, and that by this hour +those of the afternoon would be on the news stands. They would not only +give further details, but might possibly tell her that the whole story +was untrue. Somewhere she had heard that among the New York evening +papers one was renowned for solemnity and exactitude. Veracity costing a +cent more than she usually spent for the evening news, when she spent +anything, which was rare, she felt the occasion worth the extravagance. + +In these pages, Teddy's case was condensed into so small a paragraph +that she had difficulty in finding it; but during the search she lighted +on something else. It was something so extraordinary, so unbelievable, +so impossible to assimilate, as to thrust even Teddy's situation well +into the second place. + +After that, all the known methods of locomotion were slow to Gladys in +her efforts to reach home; but before she could enter the house she had +seen Jennie advancing up the avenue, and so ran back to meet her. + +"Oh, Jen! Look!" + +It was all she had breath to say, so that Jennie naturally did as she +was bidden. But she, too, found the paragraph thrust beneath her eyes +extraordinary, unbelievable, and impossible to assimilate, though for +other reasons than those that swayed her sister. + + _Collingham-Follett._ On May 11th, at St. Titus's Rectory, + Madison Avenue, by the Rev. Larned Goodbody, Robert Bradley + Collingham, Jr., of Marillo Park, N. Y., to Jane Scarborough + Follett, of Pemberton Heights, N. J. + +Of the many things Jennie didn't comprehend, she comprehended this +paragraph least of all. Who had put it in the paper, and what did it +mean? She walked on dreamily, Gladys trotting beside her, a living +interrogation point. + +"Oh, Jen, what's it all about? Are you married to him really?" + +Jennie answered as best she knew how. + +"Not--not exactly." + +But here Gladys was too quick for her. + +"If you're married to him at all, it's got to be exactly, hasn't it?" + +"I--I did go through--through the ceremony." + +"Well then, you've got the law on him," Gladys declared, earnestly. +"He'll have to pay you alimony anyhow." + +"I--I don't want him to pay me anything." + +"Not pay you anything, and him with a wad as big as a haystack? Oh, Jen, +you're not going dippy like poor momma, are you?" + +Jennie wondered if she was. It seemed to her as if she could stand +little more in the line of revolution without her mind giving way. + +And yet within a few minutes she received another shock. It came through +Gussie, who ran to meet them at the door. + +"For mercy's sake, Jen, what's all this about?" + +She fluttered a yellow envelope, on which the address was typewritten. + + _Mrs. Bradley Collingham, Jr._ + Care _Mrs. Follett_ + _11 Indiana Avenue_ + _Pemberton Heights, N. J._ + +"I told the boy it didn't belong here--" Gussie was beginning to explain +when Gladys interrupted. + +"Yes, it does. Read that." + +Gussie read and read again. + +"Well, of all--" She stopped only because she lacked the words with +which to continue. + +In the meanwhile Jennie had opened her telegram and read: + + Have asked father to engage best counsel in New York to defend + boy. Sailing to-morrow on _Venezuela_, and will take all + responsibilities off your hands. Placed two thousand dollars to + your account at Pemberton National Bank. See manager. Devoted + love. Your husband, _Bob_. + +Jennie let the yellow slip flutter to the entry floor while she stood +gazing into the air. Gussie having picked it up, the two younger sisters +read it together. + +"Some class!" Gladys commented, dryly. + +But Gussie could only stare at Jennie awesomely, as if a miracle had +transformed her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +On landing from the _Venezuela_, Bob drove out to Collingham Lodge. He +knew that by this time the family were in the Adirondacks, and that with +Gull and his wife to look after him he should have the place to himself. +Now that he was known to be married he had first thought it possible to +bring Jennie there, but had decided that the big empty house might +frighten her with its loneliness. A hotel in New York was what she would +probably prefer; and with all he had to do for Teddy, it would doubtless +be most convenient for himself. He went to his old home, therefore, only +as to a base from which to make further arrangements. Having unpacked a +few things and eaten a snack of lunch, he would go to see his wife at +once. + +Though he had not expected to hear from her on landing, and still less +to see her at the dock, he was faintly disappointed to receive neither +of these forms of greeting. He reminded himself that not her coldness, +but her inexperience, would account for this, and so made the more of +his anticipations for the afternoon. She had written to him while he was +away, short, noncommittal letters, betraying a mind unused to +correspondence rather than a heart opposed to it. Lack of habit, he told +himself, would for a long time to come make her seem unresponsive when +she would only be hesitating and observant. + +It was the hot season at Marillo, and those houses which were not closed +were somnolent. At Collingham Lodge, Max, with his madly joyful +demonstrations, was the only expression of life. Within the house, the +shades were down, the furniture befrocked. Nevertheless, it was home, +and all the more home after the alien pageantry of the tropics and the +south. Having bathed and changed his clothes, he found pleasure in +roaming from one dim airless room to another, as if he had been absent +for a year. + +It was a greater pleasure for the reason that, ever since receiving his +father's amazing cablegram, the vague antagonism he had felt for two or +three years toward his parents had given place to affection and +gratitude. They had seemingly come round after all to acknowledging his +right to be himself. The concession gave him a sense of loving them, of +loving the things that belonged to them. He strolled into their rooms, +looking about on the objects they used, as though in this way he got +some contact with their personalities. + +As yet, Jennie's family hardly entered the sphere of his conceptions. He +knew she had a mother and sisters; he had seen and spoken to Teddy at +the bank. But even the knowledge that the boy was in jail for killing a +man didn't bring him or them near to him as realities. While there were +things he should do for the boy, they would not be done for him, but for +Jennie. What concerned her naturally concerned her husband; but +otherwise his father and mother came first. For this new generosity on +their part, for this opening of the arms, his heart glowed toward them, +making them sensibly his own. + +He was thinking of this as he stood in his mother's room, gazing round +on the chintzy comfort he had all his life regarded with some awe. Not +since he had been a little boy had he felt so warmly toward her as now. +A note from her at Quarantine had assured him, as she had assured him +before he went to South America, that she was his mother and that in all +trials he could count on her. Counting on her, he could count on +everything, for however difficult his father might prove, she could +manage him in the end. It made everything easier for him and for Jennie, +turning an anxious outlook on life into a splendid hopefulness. + +He was leaving the room to go and see if Mrs. Gull had cooked a chop for +him when he noticed, propped against the wall and near the door by which +he had come in, what looked like a picture carelessly covered with a +crimson cloth. His mother had long talked of having her portrait done; +he wondered if it could be that. He put his hand on it, and felt the +frame. It was a picture, and, if a picture, undoubtedly the portrait. + +"Let's see what the old lady looks like," were the words that passed +through his mind. + +With a twitch the cloth was off, and he sprang back. The start was one +of surprise. Looking for no more than the exquisite conventionality he +knew so well, this vital nudity caught his breath and made his heart +leap. It was as if he had actually come on some living pagan loveliness +seated in one of the empty rooms. Tannhaeuser first beholding the +goddess in the secrecy of the Venusberg must have felt something like +this amazed tumult of the senses. + +Turning from the great bay window in which he had hastily pulled up the +shades, his excitement had consciously in it a presentiment of evil. She +was so alive, and so much there on purpose! + +Then a horror stole over him, like a chill that struck his bones. He +crept forward, with a stricken, fascinated stare. _It couldn't be_, he +was saying to himself; and yet--and yet--_it was_. + +The bearings of this conviction didn't come to him all at once. The fact +was as much as he could deal with. She had sat and been painted like +this! His impressions were as poignant and confused as if he had seen +her struck dead. He couldn't account for it. He couldn't explain the +presence of the thing here in his mother's room. + +On the lower bar of the frame he saw an inscription plate, getting down +on all fours to read it--"Life and Death: by Hubert Wray." + +So Hubert had done it; Hubert had seen her in this flinging-off of +mystery. Of course! + +His thought flashed back to the day when he had first made her +acquaintance. Leaning a little forward, she was sitting in this very +Byzantine chair, on this very dais, wearing a flowered dress, a +flower-wreathed Leghorn hat in her lap. Wray, in a painting smock, was +standing with the palette and brushes in his hand, making a sketch of +her more or less on the lines of a Reynolds or a Gainsborough. He had +dropped him a line telling him he had taken a studio and inviting him to +look him up. He hadn't looked him up till a week or two had gone by; +but, having once seen this girl, he did so soon again. + +Of him she had taken little or no notice. When, later, he forced himself +on her attention, she made his approaches difficult. When he asked her +to marry him she had at first laughed him off, and then refused him in +so many words. But as she generally based her refusal, unconsciously, +perhaps, on the social differences between them, he wouldn't take her +"No" for an answer. If he could ignore the social differences, it seemed +to him that she could, while the advantages to her in marrying a +Collingham were evident. + +"And all the while this is what the trouble was." + +What he meant by _this_ was more than the picture, "Life and Death," +though how much more he made no attempt to measure. The truth that now +emerged for him out of his memory of the winter months was that Wray +loved Jennie, that Jennie loved Wray, and that he had been a blind fool +never to have seen it. He threw himself on his mother's couch, burying +his face in the cushions. + +As much as from anything else he suffered from the breakdown of his +convictions. He had been so glib on the subject of his instinct. Love +could make mistakes, he had said to Edith, but instinct couldn't. He had +been the other half of Jennie; Jennie had been the other half of him. +She couldn't be unfaithful to him, because he knew she couldn't. His +love was protecting her like a magic cloak, while she was.... The awful +shame of a man whose foolish stammerings of passion are held up to +public ridicule seemed to kill the heart in his body. + +And yet, when he staggered to his feet and strode toward the obsessing +thing to pull the cloth over it again, he started back once more. The +woman with the skull had changed. She was a coarse creature now, common +and sensual. Amazement pinned him to the spot, his hands raised as if at +sight of an apparition. Then slowly, insensibly, weirdly, Jennie came +back again, though not quite the Jennie he had seen at first. This +Jennie retained the traits of the second woman--a Jennie coarsened, +common, and sensual, in spite of being exquisite, too. + +He walked in and out of the other rooms on the floor, so as to clear his +mind of the suggestion. When he came back, he saw the second woman, and +the second woman only; but having moved into a new light, he found +Jennie there as before. It was like sorcery. Whether the thing had a +baleful life, or whether his perceptions were growing crazed, he +couldn't tell. + +Neither could he tell what he was to do with regard to the plans he had +been making. A hotel in New York _now_.... + +But the immediate duties were evident. Nominally he had come back to +befriend the boy, and the boy must be befriended. To do that he must +have a knowledge of the facts. Farther than this he had been unable to +progress even by the hour, in the early afternoon, when he was limping +along Indiana Avenue. + +He had telephoned his coming, and Jennie had answered in a dead voice +which could hardly be interpreted as a welcome. It was like a guilty +voice, he said to himself, though he corrected the thought instantly, to +argue in favor of emotion. + +He had spent the intervening two or three hours arguing. Jennie was a +model, and he must not be surprised if a model's work, however startling +to one who was not a model, should seem a matter of course to her. All +professions had peculiarities strange to those who didn't belong to +them, and the model's perhaps most of all. He couldn't judge; he +couldn't condemn. He must try to understand her from her own point of +view. Probably her posing in this way seemed the most natural thing in +the world to her; and, if so, he must make it seem the same to himself. +He couldn't expect her to have the hesitations and circumspections of a +girl from Marillo Park. If she was true to her own standards, it was all +he had a right to look for. + +And yet there was Wray. He had long seen in Hubert a fellow whom no girl +could love "and get away with it." These were the words he had used of +his friend, and he had considered the detail none of his business. Most +men were that way, more or less, and if he himself wasn't, it was not a +moral excellence, but a trick of temperament. But that Jennie was in +danger from Wray was a thought that never occurred to him. Her innocence +and defenselessness, combined with what he had taken to be a kind of +studio code of honor, would have been enough to protect her, even had +his suspicions been roused, which they never were. He tried to smother +those suspicions even now, saying to himself that he had nothing against +her except that she had been a model--in all for which a model was ever +called upon. + +He had that--and the timbre of her voice on the telephone. There was +dismay in that voice, and terror. If it wasn't a guilty voice.... + +But, as a matter of fact, it was a guilty voice. In an overwhelming +consciousness of guilt, Jennie had spent the whole of the ten days since +the coming of his cablegram. The man who at a distance of four or five +thousand miles could know that Teddy was in jail and act so promptly for +the good of all might be aware of anything. Having always seemed immense +and overshadowing, he became godlike now from his sheer display of +power. It was power so great that she could put forth no claim; she +could only wait humbly on his will. + +As, hidden behind a curtain, she watched for his coming along the +avenue, all her thoughts were focused into speculation as to how he +would approach her. Would he be sorry for having married her? She could +only fear that he would be. She had never mistrusted his mother's +reading of his character--that he made love to girls one day and forgot +them the next--in addition to which she had involved him in this +terrible disgrace. Whatever excuse those who loved Teddy might make for +him, the fact remained that to the world he was a bank robber and a +murderer. All his kin must share in the condemnation meted out to him, +and Bob's first task as a married man must be that of defending her and +hers against public disdain. He might be as brave as a lion in doing +that, but, she reasoned, he couldn't like the necessity. He might say he +did, and yet she wouldn't be able to believe him. Even if he still cared +for her as he had cared when he went away, his marriage to her couldn't +possibly be viewed otherwise than as a misfortune; and he might not +still care for her. + +She saw him as he limped round the corner at the very end of the street. +He wore a Panama hat and a white-linen suit. Luckily, Gussie and Gladys +had gone back to work and her mother was lying down. She couldn't have +borne the suspense had she not been all alone. Even Pansy's searching +eyes, as she stood with her little squat legs planted wide apart, trying +to understand this new element in the situation, were almost more than +Jennie could endure. + +Bob advanced slowly, examining the numbers of the houses, many of which +were lacking. Seventeen, Fifteen, and Thirteen were, however, over their +doors, so that he was duly prepared for Eleven. + +"I'll know by the first look in his eyes," she kept saying to herself, +"whether he's sorry he married me or not." + +As he passed number Thirteen she got up from the arm of the big chair on +which she had been perched, and found she could hardly stand. It was all +she could do to creep into the entry and open the front door. When he +turned into the little cement strip leading up to it, she shrank back +into the shadow. He was abreast of the two hydrangea trees before he saw +her. When he did so he stood still. It seemed to her that an +unreckonable time went by before a smile stole to his lips, and when it +did it was wavering, flickering, more poignant than no smile at all. + +Her inner comment was: "Yes; he's sorry. Now I know." Pride, another new +force in her character, made of her a woman with a will, as she added, +"I must help him to get out of it--somehow." + +But Pansy, sensing a nimbus of good will as imperceptible to Jennie as +the pervasive scent of the summer, lilted down the steps, raised her +forepaws against his shin, and gazed up into his face adoringly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +It was a help to Bob Collingham that his first glance at Jennie decided +his attitude for the near future. Whatever his doubts and questionings, +he could add nothing to the trials she had to face. Whatever she had +done, whatever the net of circumstances in which she had been caught, he +must act as if, as far as he himself was concerned, he was satisfied. +Whether she loved him or whether she didn't, or whether her duties as a +model had or had not made her indifferent to considerations to which +most people were sensitive, were questions that must be postponed. + +This conviction, which flashed on him as he saw her shrinking in the +entry, was confirmed when he felt her crumpled in his arms, relieved by +his presence and yet frightened by the new conditions which it wrought. +It was the same dependent but rebellious little Jennie, clinging to him +and yet trying to slip away from him. It was as if she begged for a love +which the perversity of her tortured little heart wouldn't allow her to +accept. Very well then; he must measure it out to her a little at a +time, as you fed a sick person or a starving man, till she got used to +it. When she was stronger and he more at peace with himself, they could +tackle the personal problems between them. + +So, when she struggled from his arms, he let her go, following her into +the living-room. + +"Gussie and Gladys are back at work," she said at once, to explain the +fact that none of his new connections were there to greet him, "and +momma's lying down. She always lies down at this time of day, ever since +daddy died." She dropped into one big shabby armchair, motioning him to +another. "And there's something else I must tell you. Ever since--this +thing happened to Teddy--she hasn't been--well, not right in her mind." + +The stand he had taken became more imperative. A father's death, a +mother's collapse, a brother's crime had put her at the head of her +little troop of three, to bear everything alone. He had left behind him +an inexperienced girl; he had come back to find a woman already +accustomed to rising to emergencies. The change was perceptible in the +clearer, slightly older cutting of her features, as well as in the +greater authority with which she spoke. Where the contours of her +profile had been soft and vague, there was now a delicate chiseling; +where there had been hesitation in words, there was now the firmness of +one obliged to know her mind. + +As she sketched her mother's mental state, he sat on the extreme edge of +his big chair, straining forward so as to be near her without touching +her, his fingers clasped between his knees. She continued to speak +nervously, with agitation, and yet lucidly. + +"She isn't very bad. She's only what you'd call unsettled. It's not that +she does anything, but rather that, after all the years when she's +worked so hard, she just sits and does nothing. It's as if she was lost +in thinking; and when she comes back she says such terribly strange +things." + +"What sort of things?" + +"For one, that it's no use living any longer--that the world's so bad +that the best thing left is to get out of it. She says you can't help +the world, or hope to see it improve, because human beings will always +reject the principles that would make it any better." + +He smiled gently. + +"I've heard people talk like that who weren't considered unsettled in +their minds." + +"Oh, but she doesn't stop there. She tells Teddy he was quite within his +rights in taking money from the bank, and when she goes to see him she +begs him to be brave and not be sorry for anything he's done." + +"And is he sorry?" + +"I don't know that you could call it sorry. He's dazed and bewildered. +He knows he took the money and that he killed a man; but he thinks he +was placed in a position where he couldn't help it." + +"And does he say who could have helped it?" + +As she looked down at that twisting and untwisting of her fingers which +was the chief sign of her effort at self-control, her color rose. + +"He says your father could have helped it; but I don't believe he's +right." + +"No, he isn't right--not as dad himself sees it. I know he's been +worried ever since your father left the bank; but he thinks he couldn't +help dismissing him. Life isn't very simple for anyone--not for my dad +any more than it was for yours. If I could see Teddy--" + +"Would you go to see him?" + +"Go to see him? Why, that's what I came back for! I'd like to do it this +very afternoon, if you'd tell me first how it all came about. You see, I +don't know anything, except the two or three bald facts dad mentioned in +his cablegram." + +It was not easy to tell this story, even to a man whom she knew to be so +kind. The fact that he was her husband didn't help her, for the reason +that it was because he was her husband that her pride was in revolt. Had +he not been her husband, he would have been free to withdraw from this +series of catastrophes. Now he could not withdraw. He was tied. + +Moreover, the sordid tale of domestic want became the more sordid when +given fact by fact. It was the intimate story of her life in contrast to +the intimate story of his. The homely family dodges for making both ends +meet which had been the mere jest of penury between Gussie, Gladys, and +herself became ghastly when exposed to a man who had never known the +lack of service and luxury, to say nothing of food and drink, since the +minute he was born. She felt as if it emptied her of any little dignity +she had ever possessed, as if it denuded her of self-respect. She could +more easily have confessed sins to him than the shifts to which they had +been put to live. + +Nevertheless, she went through with it, brokenly, with great effort, and +yet with a kind of dogged will to drain all the dregs of the cup. + +"He'll see me as I am," was part of her underlying thought. "He'll know +then that I can't go on with this comedy of having married him. Even if +I have, we've got to end it somehow." + +But on his side the reaction was different. He had never heard this sort +of tale before. He had never before been in contact with this phase of +poverty. He had known poor men in college, and plenty of chaps who were +down on their luck; but the daily pinching and paring of whole families +just to have enough to eat and to wear was so new as to astonish him. +For the minute it made Jennie less an individual than a type. + +"My God!" he was saying inwardly, "do human beings have to live so close +to the edge as all that?" + +When she had told him of the incident of the cutting off of the gas +because they couldn't pay fifteen dollars on account, the turning point +of Teddy's tragedy, his exclamation was embarrassing to them both: "Why, +I pay twice that for a pair of shoes!" Though she knew he meant it as a +protest against the straits to which they had been put, it seemed both +to him and to her to make the gulf between them wider. + +"And you were going through all that," he said, when she had finished +her recital, "during the months when I was seeing you two and three +times a week at the studio. My God! how I wish you could have told me!" + +It was the first time that a little smile came quivering to her lips. + +"You don't tell things like that--not to anyone outside your family. +Besides, it isn't worth while. You get used to them." + +"You weren't used to it--when your mother cried--and Teddy forked out +the money." + +"Not to that very thing--but to things like it. If Teddy hadn't forked +out the money, we should have worried through somehow. That's the awful +thing about it--that if he hadn't done it we shouldn't have been much +worse off than we'd been at other times. A little worse--yes--even a +good deal, perhaps; and yet we could have lived through it. I couldn't +have told you, because people of our kind don't talk about such things, +not even with their neighbors. We just take them for granted." + +It was this taking it for granted that impressed him with such a sense +of the terrible. It left so little room for living, so limited a swing +to do anything but scrape. Scraping was the whole of Jennie's history. +He could see it as she talked. She had never in her life had fifty +dollars to do with as she chose. Perhaps she had never had five. It was +not the lack of the money that overwhelmed him, but of any freedom to +move, of any scope in which to grow. + +Forgetting his reserves of the morning, he caught her by both hands, +holding them imprisoned in her lap. + +"But that's all over now, Jennie. You're my wife. You're coming to +me--right off--to-day--this very afternoon." + +"Oh, Bob, I couldn't!" If he was to be "got out of it," she felt it +essential to gain time. "I couldn't leave them. Don't you see? There's +no one but me to keep house or--or to decide anything. Momma's given up +entirely, and Gussie and Gladys are both so young that I couldn't +possibly leave them alone." + +"Then we'll have to manage it some other way." + +"No; not yet. Let's wait. Let's see." + +"Waiting and seeing won't change the fact that we're man and wife and +that everyone knows it. It's been in the papers--" + +"Yes, but why did you put it in?" It was her turn to seek information. +"To me it was like a thunderbolt." + +He gave her the contents of his father's cablegram. + +"I took it for granted that you must have told him." + +"I shouldn't have done that. I did--I did tell your mother, Bob--but +then I couldn't help it." + +He started back, releasing her hands which he had continued holding. + +"What? You've seen the old lady?" + +She nodded. "Yes; she sent for me to go out to Marillo Park." + +"For Heaven's sake! What made her do that?" + +She was aware of her opportunity. If she wanted to "get him out of it," +now was her chance. She could tell him part of the truth and keep him +dangling--or the whole of it and let him go. "Fairer to him--and easier +for me" was the thought on which she based her decision. + +"She--she wanted to thank me for--for not having taken you at your word +and married you." + +"Oh! So you had to tell her that you had. And what did she say to that?" + +"She was lovely." + +He beamed with pleasure. + +"She can be when she takes the notion, just as she can be the other way. +She must have liked you." + +"I--I think she did." + +"You bet she did! She'd let you see it if she didn't. So _that's_ what +smoothed the way for us! I couldn't make it out. You certainly are a +little witch, Jennie!" + +"It isn't as smooth as all that." Springing to her feet, she turned her +back on him, moving away toward the window. "Oh, Bob, I wish I didn't +have to tell you. You're so good and kind, and I've been so"--it came +out with a burst of confession, her arms outstretched, her hands spread +palms upward--"I've been so awful! When you know--" + +"Wait!" He seized her by the shoulders with the force which calms +emotion from sheer fright. "Wait, Jennie! I know what you're going to +tell me." + +"Oh, but you can't." + +"It's--it's something about Wray, isn't it?" + +She nodded dumbly. + +"Then we'll put it off. Do you see? That isn't what I came back for. I +came back about Teddy, and we must see that through before we think of +ourselves. All that'll keep--" + +"It won't keep if we go and live together." + +"Then we won't go and live together--not till we see how it's to be +done. That's just a detail. In comparison with Teddy, it doesn't matter +one way or another. We'll come to it by and by. All we've got to think +of now is that there's a boy whose life is hanging by a thread--" + +"Yes; but I don't want you to be mixed up in it. I want to--to save you +from--from the sacrifice--and--and the disgrace." + +He stood back from her with a hard little laugh. + +"Good God! Jennie, I wonder if you have the faintest idea of what love +is! You can't have. Do you suppose it matters to me what I'm mixed up in +so long as it's something that touches you? Listen! Let me explain to +you what love is like when it's the kind I feel for you. I"--he braced +himself in order to bring out the words forcibly--"I don't care what +Wray is to you or what you are to Wray--not yet. I put that away from me +till I've gone with you through the things you've got to meet. They'll +not be easy for you, but I want to make them as easy as I can. No one +can do it but me, because no one cares for you as I do." + +"Oh, I know that." + +"Then, if you know it, Jennie, don't force anything else on me when I'm +doing my best not to think of it. Let me just love you as well as I know +how till we do the things that are right in front of us. After that, if +there's a reason why I should hand you over to Wray, or to anybody else, +you can tell me, and I'll--" + +Pansy's scrambling to attention and a sound on the stairs arrested his +words as well as Jennie's rising tears. + +"Momma's coming down," the girl whispered, hurriedly. "She wants to see +you. Don't forget that you're not to mind anything she says." + +To Bob, the moment was one of awed surprise, for the commanding, +black-robed figure differed from all his preconceptions, as far as he +had any, of Jennie's mother. Advancing rapidly into the room, she took +his right hand in hers, laying her left on his head as if in +benediction. + +"So you're my Jennie's husband. I hope you're a good man, for you've +found a good woman. Be loving to each other. The time is coming when +love is all that will survive. Let me look at you." + +He stood off, smiling, while she made her inspection. + +"Love is all there is, anyhow, don't you think, Mrs. Follett?" + +"Yes; but it gets no chance in this world." + +"Or it is the only thing that does get a chance?" + +"It may be the only thing that does get a chance, but that chance is +small. There's no hope for the world. Don't think there is, because +you'll be disappointed. Each time your disappointment is worse than the +last, till you end in despair." + +It was the strain Jennie felt obliged to interrupt. + +"Momma, Mr. Collingham is going to see Teddy. Don't you want him to take +a message?" + +"Only the message I've given him myself--that it's only a little way +over, and that one of two things must happen then. It will either be +sleep, in which nothing will matter, or it will be life, in which he'll +be free--understood--supported--instead of being beaten and crushed and +mangled, as everyone is here. Tell him that." + +He felt it his duty to be cheerier. + +"On the other hand, we may get him off; or if we can't get him off +altogether--" + +"What good would that do--your getting him off? You'd be throwing him +back again on a world that doesn't want him." + +"Oh, but surely the world _does_--" + +"Yes; the world does--I'm wrong--it does to the same extent that it +wanted his father--to give it every ounce of his strength with a +pittance for his pay--to spend and be spent till he's good for nothing +more--and then to be thrown aside to starve. It's possible that even now +Teddy would be willing to do this if they'd only let him live; but tell +him it's not good enough. I've told him, and I don't think he believes +me; but you're a man, and perhaps you can make him see it." + +"Yes, momma dear, he'll do the best he can--" + +"It won't be the best he can if he tries to keep him here. We've passed +on, my boy and I. Only our bodies are still on the earth, and that for +just a little while. A year from now and we'll both be safe--so +safe!--and yet you'd try to keep us in a world where men make a curse of +everything." + + ---- + +But Teddy himself was less reconciled than his mother to bidding the +world good-by. In proportion as his physical strength returned, the fate +that had overtaken him became more and more preposterous. To suppose +that he had of his own criminal intention stolen money and killed a man +was little short of insane. A man had been killed by a pistol he held in +his hand; he had taken money because the need was such that he couldn't +help himself; but he, Teddy Follett, was neither a thief nor a murderer +in any sense involving the exercise of will. He was sure of that. He +declared it to himself again and again and again. It was all that gave +him fighting force, compelling him to insist, to assert himself, and to +protest in season and out of season against being shut up in a cell. + +The cell was seven feet long and four feet wide. Round the foot of the +bunk and along the sides there was a space of some twelve inches. At the +foot there was the iron-ribbed door with a grating, and along the sides +a slimy and viscous stone wall. Besides the bunk, a bucket, and a shelf +there was nothing whatever in the way of furnishings. Under the bed he +was privileged to keep the suitcase with his wardrobe, and on the shelf +whatever his mother and sisters brought him in the way of food. By day, +the only light was through the grating to the corridor; by night, a +feeble electric bulb was extinguished at half past nine. The Brig being +an ancient prison, and Teddy but one of a long, long line of murderers +who had lain on this hard bed, vermin infested everything. + +While Bob Collingham was on his way to him Teddy was in conversation +with the chaplain. For this purpose, the door had been unlocked. The +visitor leaned against the door post while the prisoner stood in the +narrow space between his bunk and the wall. + +It was the Protestant chaplain, a tall, spare, sandy-haired man of some +fifty-odd, whose yearning, spiritual face had, through long association +with his flock, grown tired and disillusioned. Having sought this post +from a genuine sympathy with outcast men, he suffered from their +rejection. He was so sure of what would help them, and only one in a +hundred ever wanted it. Even that one generally laughed at it when he +got out of jail. After eighteen years of self-denying work, the worthy +man was sadly pessimistic now as to prospects of reform. + +For the minute he was trying to convince Teddy of the righteousness of +punishment. He had been drawn to the boy partly because of his youth and +good looks, but mainly on account of his callousness to his crime. He +seemed to have no conscience, no notion of the difference between right +and wrong. "A moral moron" was what he labeled him. The lack of ethical +consciousness was the more astonishing because his antecedents had +apparently been good. + +"You see," he was pointing out, "you can't break the laws by which +society protects itself and yet escape the moral and physical results." + +But in his long, solitary hours Teddy had been thinking this out. + +"Doesn't that depend upon the laws? If the law's wrong--" + +"But who's to judge of that?" + +"Isn't the citizen to judge of that?" + +The parson smiled--his weary, spiritual smile. + +"If the citizen was allowed to judge of that--" + +"If he wasn't," Teddy broke in, with the impetuosity born of his +beginning to think for himself, "if he wasn't, there'd be no such +country as the United States. Most of the fireworks in American history +are over the fine thing it is to beat the law to it when the law isn't +just." + +"Ah, but there's a distinction between individual action and great +popular movements." + +"Great popular movements must be made up of individual actions, mustn't +they? If individuals didn't break the laws, each guy on his own account, +you wouldn't get any popular movements at all." + +The chaplain shifted his ground. + +"All the same, there are certain laws that among all peoples and at all +times have been considered fundamental. Human society can't permit a man +to steal--" + +"Then human society shouldn't put a man in a position where he either +has to steal or starve to death." + +There was a repetition of the thin, ghostly smile. + +"Oh, well, no one who's ordinarily honest and industrious ever--" + +"Ever starves to death? That's a lie. Excuse me," he added, +apologetically, "but that kind of talk just gets my goat. My father +practically starved to death--he died from lack of proper nourishment, +the doctor said--and there never was a more industrious or an honester +man born. He gave everything he had to human society, and when he had no +more to give, human society kicked him out. It has the law on its side, +too, and because"--he gulped--"I came to his help in the only way I knew +how they've chucked me into this black hole." + +The chaplain found another kind of opening. + +"So, you see, my boy, there's that. If you don't keep the law--" + +"They can make you suffer for it," Teddy declared, excitedly. "Of course +they can. They've made me suffer--God! how they've made me suffer--more, +I believe, than anyone since Jesus Christ! But that's not what we were +talking about. You started in to tell me that it's _right_ for me to +suffer the way they're making me. That's what I kick against, and I'll +keep on kicking till they send me to the chair." + +"If you could do yourself any good by that--" + +But just here the dialogue was interrupted by the appearance of Boole, +the dapper, debonair young guard who generally announced Teddy's +afternoon visitors. + +"Hello, old cuss! Gent to see you." + +The chaplain prepared to move on to the neighboring cell. His +leave-taking was kindly and with a great pity in it. + +"We'll go on with this talk again, my boy. When you're able to get the +right point of view--" + +What would happen then was drowned in the clanging of the door behind +him, as Teddy stepped out into the corridor. + +"Who is it? Stenhouse?" he asked, as he walked along with the guard. + +He had already dropped into the prisoner's habitual tone of hostile +friendliness toward the officials with whom he came most in contact, +recognizing the fact that had he met any of these men "on the outside" +they would have hobnobbed together with the freemasonry of American +young men everywhere. On their sides the keepers, apart from the fact +that they considered Teddy "a tough lot," had ceased to show him +animosity. + +"It's not the lawyer," Boole answered now. "It's a swell guy with a +limp. Looks to me as if he might be the gay young banker sport that the +papers say is married to your sister." + +Teddy felt his heart contracting in a spasm of dread. The one fact he +knew of his brother-in-law was that he had sent him Stenhouse, one of +the three or four lawyers most famous at the New Jersey bar for saving +lives. This detail, too, the boy had learned from Boole. + +"You'll not get the cur'nt, with him to defend you, believe _me_. Some +bird! If he can't prove you innocent, he'll find a flaw in the law or +the indictment or somethin'. Why, they say he once got a guy off, a +Pole, the fella was, just on the spellin' of his name." + +Having been warned by Stenhouse not to discuss his case with anyone, +Teddy was discreetly silent. As a matter of fact, he had too much to +think of to be inclined to talk. The circumstance that "young Coll" had +become a relative was one of which he was just beginning to seize the +importance. His bruised mind had been unable at first to apprehend it. +Slowly he was coming to the realized knowledge that he was allied to +that Olympian race which the Collinghams represented to the Folletts, +and that, at least, some of their power was engaged on his behalf. + +It was confusing. Since the might that had struck him down was also +coming to his aid, the issue was no longer clear-cut. To have all the +right on one side and all the wrong on the other had simplified life. +Now, a right that was partly wrong and a wrong that was partly right had +been personified, as it were, in this union through which a Collingham +had become a Follett, and a Follett a Collingham. + +Young Coll was standing where Jennie had stood on the first occasion of +Teddy's coming to the visitors' room. He too waited with a smile. The +minute he saw the lad appear timidly on the threshold he limped forward +with outstretched hand. + +"Hello, Teddy!" His embarrassment, being a kindly embarrassment, was +without awkwardness. "You didn't know I was going to be your brother the +last time you saw me, did you?" + +Teddy said nothing. He was not sullen, but neither was he friendly. A +Collingham, even though married to his sister, was probably a person to +be feared. Teddy's counsel to himself was to be on his guard against +"the nigger in the woodpile." + +"Perhaps it was my fault that you didn't," Bob went on, with some +constraint. "That's the reason why I'm here. I dare say there isn't much +I can do for you, old boy, but what little there is I want to do." + +Teddy eyed him steadily, still without making a reply. Somehow they +found chairs. Boole, having once more summed up the visitor, had +retreated toward the guard who sat officially at the far end of the +room. + +"Looks like a good cuss," was Boole's whispered confidence. "Kind o' +soft--like most o' them swell sports that marries working goyls." + +Bob was finding himself less and less at his ease. The boy not only came +none of the way to meet him, but seemed to hold him as an enemy. By his +silence and by the severity of his regard he conveyed the impression +that young Coll, and not himself, had done the wrong. + +It was an attitude for which Bob was not prepared. Neither was he +prepared for the defacement of all that had been glowing in the lad's +countenance. Jennie had warned him against expecting the ruddy +bright-eyed Teddy of the bank, but he hadn't looked for this air of +youth blasted out of youthfulness. It was still youth, but youth marred, +terrified, haunted, with a fear beyond that of gibbering old age. + +With his lovingness and quickness of pity, Bob sought for a line by +which he could catch on to the lad's interest. + +"I asked my father to send you the best counsel in New Jersey, and I +believe he's picked out Stenhouse." + +Teddy regarded him grimly. + +"Yes, he did." It seemed as if he meant to say no more, when, with a +sardonic grunt, he went on, "Something like a guy who smashes a machine +and then gets the best mechanician in the world to come and patch it +up." + +"Yes--possibly--it may be. Only, there's this to consider--that no one +smashes a machine on purpose." + +"No, I don't suppose he does. Only, it's all the same to the machine +whether it's been smashed on purpose or by accident--so long as it'll +never run again." + +Bob considered this. + +"You might say that of a machine--a dead thing from the start. You can't +say it of a human being, who's alive from the beginning. See?" + +"No, I don't see." + +"And I don't know that I can explain. I'm only sure that a machine can +be done for, and that a human being can't be. You can come to a time +when it's no use doing anything more for the one; but you can never +reach such a time with the other. With _him_, you may make mistakes or +you may do him a great wrong, but you can't stop trying to put things +right again." + +"And you think you can put things right again for me?" + +"I don't know what I can do. I haven't an idea. Very likely I can't do +anything at all. I merely came back from South America to do what I +could." + +"Did you feel that you had to--because you'd married Jennie?" + +"That was a reason. It wasn't the only one." + +"What else was there?" + +"I'm not sure that I can tell you. A lot of the things we do we do not +from reason, but from instinct. But if you don't want me to try to take +a hand--" + +Under the dark streaks that blotted out what had once been Teddy's +healthy coloring, a slow flush began to mantle. + +"I don't want to be--to be bamboozled." + +"Of course you don't. But how could I bamboozle you?" + +There was no explanation. Unable to base his distrust on any other +ground than that Bob was the son of the man who had dismissed Josiah +Follett from the bank, Teddy fell silent again. He could not afford to +reject the least good will that came his way, and yet his spirit was too +sore to accept it graciously. + +Some of this young Collingham divined. He began to see that as the boy +was suffering and he wasn't, it was not for him to take offense. On the +contrary, he must use all his ingenuity to find the way to make his +appeal effectively. + +"All I could do from down there," he said, when Teddy seemed indisposed +to speak again, "was to get Stenhouse or some one to take up your case. +I mean to see him in the morning and find out how far he's got along +with it. But now that I'm here, can't you think of something of your own +that you'd like me to do?" + +Teddy raised his eyes quickly. His look was the dull look of anguish, +and yet with sharpness in the glance. + +"What kind of thing?" + +"Any kind. Think of the thing that's most on your mind--the thing that +worries you more than anything else--and--put it up to me." The +somberness deepened in the lad's face, not from resentment, but from +heaviness of thought. "Go ahead," Bob urged. "Cough it up. If it's +something I can't tackle, I'll tell you so." + +"What's most on my mind," Teddy began, slowly, gritting his teeth with +the effort to get the words out, "what worries me like hell--is ma--and +the girls. They--they must be lonesome--something fierce--without me." + +In his agony of controlling himself he was rubbing his palms between his +knees, but Bob put out his great hand and seized him by the wrist. + +"Look here, old chap! I can't comfort them for your not being there. You +know that, of course. But it always helps women to have a man coming and +going in the house--to take a lot of things off their hands--and keep +them company--and I'll do that. If I can't be everything that you'd +be--" + +"You can be more than I could ever be." + +"Yes--from the point of view of having a little more money--and +freedom--and a car to take them out in--and all that; but if you think I +could ever make up to them for you, old sport--but that isn't what you +want me to do, is it? You don't want me to be you, but to be something +different--only, something that'll make your mother and Jennie and your +little sisters buck up again--" + +Stumbling to his feet, Teddy drew the back of his hand across his eyes. + +"I--I guess I'd better beat it," he muttered, unsteadily. "They--they +don't like you to stay out too long." + +But Bob forced him gently back into his chair again. + +"Oh, cheese that, Teddy! Sit down and let's get better acquainted. I +want to tell you how Jennie and I made up our minds to get married." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +"And yet it's one of the commonest types of the criminal mind," +Stenhouse was explaining to Bob during the following forenoon. "Fellows +perfectly normal in every respect but that of their own special brand of +crime. See no harm in that whatever. Won't have a cigar?" + +Having declined the cigar for the third time, Bob found a subconscious +fascination in watching the lawyer's Havana travel from one corner to +the other of his long, mobile, thin-lipped mouth. It was interesting, +too, to get a view of Teddy's case different from Jennie's. + +There was nothing about Stenhouse, unless it was his repressed +histrionic intensity, to suggest the saver of lives. Outwardly, he was a +lank, clean-shaven Yankee, of ill-assorted features and piercing gimlet +eyes. But something about him suggested power and an immense +persuasiveness. He had only to wake from the quiescent mood in which he +was talking to Bob to become an actor or a demagogue. With laughter, +tears, pathos, vituperation, satire, and repartee all at his command, +together with an amazing knowledge of criminal law, he was born to +commend himself to the average juryman. Little of this was apparent, +however, except when he was in action. Just now, as he lounged in his +revolving chair, his limber legs crossed, his thumbs in the armholes of +his waistcoat, and his perfecto moving as if by its own volition along +the elastic lines of his mouth, he was detached, impartial, judicial, +with that manner of speaking which the French describe as "from high to +low"--"_de haut en bas_"--the "good mixer," with a sense of his own +superiority. + +The lack of the human element was to Bob the most disconcerting trait in +the lawyer's frame of mind. To him the case was a case, and neither more +nor less. The boy's life, so precious to himself, was of no more account +to Stenhouse than that of a private soldier to his commanding officer on +the day when a position must be rushed. Stenhouse was interested in the +professional advantage he himself might gain from the outcome of the +trial. In a less degree, he was interested in Teddy's psychology as a +new slant on criminal mentality in general. But the results as they +affected his client's fate concerned him not at all. + +"I'm talking to you frankly," he went on, "because it's the only way we +can handle the business. You're making yourself responsible in the case, +and so I must tell you what I think." + +"Oh, of course!" + +"I quite understand your connection with this young fellow, and why +you're taking the matter up, but I must treat you as if you were as +aloof from it in sentiment as I am myself." + +"That's exactly what I want." + +"Well, then, the boy's in a bad fix. It's a worse fix because he belongs +to the dangerous criminal type for whom you can never get a jury's +sympathy. Roughly speaking, there are two classes of criminals--the +criminals by accident and the criminals born. This boy is a criminal +born." + +"Oh, do you think so?" + +"I know so. Yes, sir! You can't have as much to do with both lots as +I've had without learning to read them at sight; and when it comes to +drawing them out--why, he hadn't told me a half of his story before I +could see he'd had murder on the brain for the best part of his life." + +"I shouldn't have thought that." + +"No, you wouldn't. Lot of it subconscious--suppressed desire, Freud, and +all that. But start him talking, and it's 'God! I'd have shot that +fellow if I'd had a gun!' or it's, 'If I'd had a dose of poison, they'd +never have got me alive.' Mind ran on it. Yes, sir! Always thinking of +doing somebody in--if not another fellow, then himself." + +"I don't think he knew it." + +"Of course he didn't know it. Seemed natural to him. Our own vices +always do seem natural to us. If you put it up to him now, he'd say he'd +never had a thought of shooting up anyone, and he wouldn't be lying out +of it, either. Way it seems to him. Way it seems to every criminal of +the class. But to judges and juries it's just so much 'bull,' and tells +against the accused in the end. Sure you won't have a cigar?" + +Having again declined the cigar, Bob argued in favor of Teddy, but +Stenhouse was fixed in his convictions. + +"I'll do what I can for him, of course; only, I'm blocked by his refusal +to plead guilty. Pleading guilty might--I don't say it would, but it +might--incline the judge to mercy. It would get him off, too, with the +second degree, only that, when his own story shows him as guilty as +hell, he keeps pulling the innocent stuff to beat a jazz band. The +rascal who plumps with his confession will always get the clemency, +while the fellow with a mouthful of innocence will be sent to the +chair." + +"But if he does feel that he's innocent--" + +"Sure he feels that he's innocent! That's it! That's what I'm talking +about--the ingrained criminal's lack of consciousness that his kind of +crime is crime. The other fellow's--yes; but his--why, the law is a fool +to be made that way and trip a good fellow up! To hear this young shaver +talk, you'd think the courts should be manned by pickpockets." + +"All the same, he was in a tight place--" + +"What's that got to do with it? If we didn't get into tight places, +there'd be no need for laws of any kind." + +"I was only thinking of his motive--" + +"His motive may have been all right. I'll not dispute you there, because +you'll find that legally there's a difference between motive and intent. +His motive may have been to provide for his mother, just as he says. +Good! No harm in that whatever. But his intent was to rob a bank and +shoot the guy that came out after him. The court won't go into his +motives. It'll deal only with his intent, and with what came of it." + +There was more along these lines which sent Bob away with some +questioning as to himself. Being of a law-respecting nature, he was +anxious not to uphold the transgressor to anything like a danger point. +And he ran that risk. Having undertaken to help Teddy on Jennie's +account, his heart had gone out beyond what he expected to the boy +himself. It was the first time he had ever been in contact with a +prisoner, the first time he had ever come face to face with a lone +individual against whom all the organized forces of the world were +focused in condemnation. His impulse being to range himself on the +weaker side, he had, in a measure, so ranged himself. He had told Teddy +that he stood by him, and would continue to stand by him through thick +and thin. But was he right? Had he shown the proper severity? Hadn't he +been sloppy and sentimental, without sufficiently remembering that a man +who had killed another man was not to be handled as a pet? + +It was not common sense to treat the breaker of laws as if he hadn't +broken them or as if his punishment had made him a sympathetic figure. +Too facile a pity might easily become a sin against the community's best +standards, and by putting himself on the weaker side a man might find +himself on the worse one. Even the fact that the wrongdoer was a +relative ought not to blind the eyes to his being a wrongdoer. It was +his duty as a citizen, Bob argued, to support the charter of the Rights +of Man as set forth in the Old Testament--thou shalt not kill--thou +shalt not steal--the ideal of the New Testament, "Neither was there +among them any that lacked, for they had all things common," never +having been called to his attention. + +As to Teddy's being a criminal born, he was not sure. Perhaps he was. +Such "sports" appeared even from the most respectable stock. There was a +dark tradition, never mentioned now except between Edith and himself, of +a Collingham--they were not sure of the relationship--who had died in +jail somewhere in the West. Of the Follett stock Bob knew nothing. +Jennie was the other half of himself; but such affinities, he was +sheepishly inclined to feel, dated from other worlds and other planes of +existence, though finding a manifestation in this one. + +But it was Jennie who gave him the lead he was in search of. + +"I should think there were plenty of them to attend to that," she said, +when he had expressed, as delicately as he could, his misgivings as to +his own lack of rigor. "Whatever he did, and however bad it was, they've +got all the power in the world to punish him, and they're going to do +it. When there's just one person on earth to show him a little pity, I +shouldn't think it could be too much." She added, after a second or two +of silence: "He was sorry you didn't go in to see him. He missed you. +I--I think he's going to cling to you just like a drowning man, you +know, to a hand that's stretched out to him from a boat. Very likely +he'll have to drown; but so long as the hand is there, it's--it's +something." + +In this speech, which was long for Jennie and betokened her growing +authority, there were two or three points on which Bob pondered as he +drove them homeward from the Brig. Jennie sat beside him, Lizzie in the +back seat. He took the longest and prettiest ways so as to give them +something like an outing. + +It was the afternoon of the day on which he had seen Stenhouse, and in +the interval he had been thinking out a program. Whatever the +restrictions he must put upon himself with regard to the boy, his duty +to protect and distract Jennie and her family was clear. Teddy had also +given him to understand that, more than anything done for himself, this +would contribute to his peace of mind. Done for his mother and sisters, +it would be done for him, and the doer could be sure that he wasn't +loosening the foundations of society. Even where there was a born +criminal to be judged, and perhaps put out of the way, something was +gained when the innocent could be saved to any possible degree from +suffering with the guilty. + +In this, too, he was not without an eye to Indiana Avenue. Though he had +no experience of suburban life, he was intuitive enough to feel sure +that, to the neighbors, Jennie's marriage had a "queer look," and the +more so since she was not living with her husband, now that he was back +from South America. To counteract this, he meant to show himself in the +street as much as possible, parading his car before the door. There must +be no cheap gossip as to Jennie based on lack of his devotion, even +though all arrangements between her and himself were no more than +provisional. + +To that point, then, his course was clear. He could not console the +mother, whose reason was stricken at its base, nor the three young girls +whose lives were overshadowed by tragedy; but he could divert their +minds from dwelling too much on calamity by bringing in a new interest. +He could make it a big interest. He could enlarge the interest in +proportion to their need; and, as Jennie spoke, it dawned on him that +they themselves began to foresee that their need might be great indeed. +"They've got all the power in the world to punish him; and they're going +to do it." "He's going to cling to you like a drowning man. Very likely +he'll have to drown." Jennie had had one or two interviews with +Stenhouse, and perhaps had inferred from that great man's talk the +difficulties of his task. + +But the help she gave Bob was in her response to his misgivings. "When +there's just one person on earth to show him a little pity, I shouldn't +think it could be too much." It couldn't be too much--not possibly. The +worst enemy of mankind had a right to "a little pity," and even Judas +Iscariot had received it. If Teddy didn't get it from him, Bob, he +wouldn't get it from anyone--his mother and sisters apart. All civilized +men were lined up against him, and doubtless could not be lined in any +other way. In that case, punishment was assured, and, as Jennie said, +there were plenty of people to take care of its infliction. He, Bob +Collingham, since he stood alone, might well forget the heavy score +against the boy in "bucking him up" to meet what lay ahead of him. + +He worked this out before driving Jennie and her mother to their door, +after which he waited for Gussie and Gladys to come home from work to +take them, too, for an airing. Jennie sat beside him, as on the earlier +drive, the two younger girls in the seat behind. + +To both, the expedition was as the first stage of a glorification which +might carry them up to any heights. Taken in connection with what they +suffered on account of Teddy, it was like drinking an unmingled draught +of the very bitter and the very sweet. Hardly able to lift up their +heads from shame, they nevertheless felt the distinction of going out in +an expensive high-powered car with a gentleman of wealth and position, +who thus publicly proclaimed himself their relative. + +"This'll settle Addie Inglis and Samuella Weatherby," Gladys whispered, +in reference to some taunt or aspersion which Gussie understood. "Say, +Gus, he's some sport, isn't he? Jen sure did cop a twenty-cylinder." + +But Gussie had already turned over her new leaf. From the corner where +she reclined with the grace of one accustomed from birth to this style +of conveyance, she arched her lovely neck and turned her lovely head +just enough to convey a hint of reprimand. + +"Gladys dear, momma wouldn't like you to use that kind of language. +Remember that now we must carry out her wishes all the more because she +isn't able to enforce them. Your companions may not always be Hattie +Belweather and Sunshine Bright, and so--" + +"Say, Gus, what's struck you? Has goin' out in a swell rig like this +gone to your head?" + +"Yes, dear; perhaps it has. And if you'll take my advice you'll let it +go to yours." + +The only immediate response from Gladys was a cocking of the eye and a +"clk" of the tongue against the cheek, something like a Zulu vowel; but +Gussie noticed that in Palisade Park, where they descended from the car +to make Bob's acquaintance, Gladys reverted to the intonation and idiom +in which she had first picked up her English. + +The jaunt tended to deepen the sensation which had been creeping over +the girls within the past few days, that they were heroines of a +dramatic romance. They had figured in the papers, their beauty, +personalities, and histories becoming points of vital national concern. +One legend made them the scions of an ancient English family fallen on +evil days, but now to be revived through alliance with the Collinghams, +while another came near enough to the truth to embody the Scarborough +tradition and connect them with the historic house in Cambridge. In no +case was there any waste of the picturesque, the detail that Jennie had +been an artist's model and "the most beautiful woman in America" being +especially underscored. + +It was only little by little that Gussie and Gladys came to a sense of +this importance, thus finding themselves enabled to react to some small +degree against their sense of disgrace. In the shop, Gussie had heard +Corinne whisper to a customer: + +"That pretty girl over there is the sister of Follett, who murdered +Flynn, and whose sister made that romantic marriage with the banker." + +Though she glanced up from the feather she was twisting only through the +tail of her eye, Gussie could reckon the excitement caused by this +announcement. When it had been made a second time, and a third, as new +customers came in, she saw herself an asset to the shop. Stared at, +wondered at, discussed, and appraised, she began to feel as princesses +and actresses when recognized in streets. + +Similarly, Hattie Belweather had run to Gladys to report what Miss +Flossie Grimm had said over the counter, in the intervals of displaying +stockings. + +"See that little red-headed, snub-nosed thing over there? That's the +Follett child, sister to the guy that shot the detective and the girl +that married the banker sport. Some hummer he must be. Jennie, the +married one's name is. They say she's had an offer of a hundred plunks a +week to go into vawdeville. Fast color? Oh, my, yes! We don't carry any +other kind." + +Thus Gladys began to find it difficult to discern between notoriety and +eminence, moving among the other cash girls as a queen incognita among +ordinary mortals. + +Most of this publicity was over by the time Bob reached New York, though +the echoes still rumbled through the press. His own arrival reawakened +some of it, offering opportunities that were never ignored of drawing +dramatic contrasts. He was represented as having been "born in the +purple," and stooping to a "maiden of low degree." Low degree was +poetically fused with the occupation of a model, and by one publication +the statement was thrown in, without comment, and as it were +accidentally, that the present Mrs. Robert Bradley Collingham, Junior, +of Marillo Park, had been greatly admired by appreciative connoisseurs +as the figure in Hubert Wray's already famous picture, "Life and Death." +Hubert Wray was even credited with "discovering" this beauty when she +was starving in the slums. + +Except for the detail of Wray's picture, the publicity was something of +a relief to Bob, since it left him nothing to explain. The truth in +these many reports being tolerably easy to disengage, his friends and +acquaintances knew of his position, and, in view of its circumstances, +they respected it. He went to the bank; he went to his club; he passed +the time of day with such neighbors as remained at Marillo Park, finding +it the easier to come and go because everyone knew what had happened. + +From almost the first day he fell into a routine--the bank, Stenhouse, +Teddy, Indiana Avenue. Though he was not yet working at the bank, he +felt it wise to show himself daily on the premises, in order to +establish the fact that his relations with his family were unchanged. +Stenhouse he didn't visit every day, but only when there were matters +connected with the case to talk over. He saw Teddy as often as the Brig +regulations would allow, growing more and more touched by the eagerness +with which the boy welcomed him. In Indiana Avenue he was assiduous. +Whatever the hints flung out by Addie Inglis and Samuella Weatherby, +they received contradiction as far as that was possible from obvious +devotion. + +As for his personal relations with Jennie, they changed little from the +_modus vivendi_ agreed upon. That she was growing more and more grateful +was evident, but gratitude wasn't what he wanted. What he wanted he +himself didn't know, and, in a measure, he didn't care. Till she got +what she wanted, he could never be wholly satisfied; and if she wanted +Wray.... + +But at this point his reasoning faculties failed him. If she wanted Wray +and if Wray wanted her, there would, of course, be but one thing for him +to do. It was that one thing itself which remained elusive or obscure, +dodging, disturbing, and defying him. He could find a means to give +Jennie her freedom, or he could take her by brute force, or, in certain +circumstances, he could dismiss her as not worthy of his love. The +trouble was that he couldn't see himself doing any of the three; and yet +if what seemed to be true was true, he couldn't see himself as doing the +other thing. + +The _modus vivendi_, like all other arrangements of its kind, was +therefore safe and convenient. It settled nothing; but it was what the +term implied, a way of living. It was not an ideal way of living, or a +way that shielded anyone from comment; but it was a way. + +As for comment, it reached Bob only indirectly, and not oftener than +every now and then. Perhaps it came in as pointed a form as it ever +assumed for him in a seemingly chance remark from the chauffeur's wife, +Mrs. Gull. It was not a chance remark, for the neat, pretty, +thin-lipped, pinched-face Englishwoman who had passed all her life "in +service" didn't make ill-considered observations. + +"I suppose we shall see the young lady down, sir, some day soon?" + +"Yes, some day soon," Bob replied, cautiously, getting ready in the hall +to go to town. + +"To remain?" + +It was all summed up in those three syllables--all the gossip on the +Collingham estate, and on all the estates at Marillo, not to go farther +afield. + +"Not to remain just yet," Bob answered, judiciously. "Mrs. Follett isn't +well, and Mrs. Collingham has two younger sisters whom she has to take +care of." + +That this explanation was not adequate he knew; and yet it was an +explanation. "It certainly do seem queer," Mrs. Gull observed to the +gardener and the gardener's wife, in a company that included Gull; and +Gull, who was from Somersetshire, replied, "It most zure and zertainly +do." + +But on the Sunday afternoon two weeks after Bob's return "the young +lady" paid her visit to Collingham Lodge, accompanied by her mother and +two sisters. + +The journey was made in what Gladys characterized as "style," the style +being mainly supplied by Gull in his sedate chauffeur's uniform. But the +fact that he drove the car left Bob free to sit with his guests in the +tonneau. He put Jennie, as hostess and mistress of the car, in the +right-hand corner, Mrs. Follett in the left one, and Gussie in the +middle. He and Gladys occupied the adjustable seats behind the +chauffeur. At sight of the light linen rug with the Collingham initials +in crimson applique, Gussie and Gladys exchanged appreciative glances, +and they both searched the neighboring piazzas for a glimpse of Addie +Inglis or Samuella Weatherby. + +Acquainted now with the fact that Jennie had viewed the celestial +country whither they were traveling, and with her descriptions of the +wonders she had seen almost learned by rote, the girls came near to +forgetting that Teddy was in a cell. But his mother didn't forget it. +Silent, austere, incapable of pleasure, and waiting only the moment of +the boy's release and her own, her eyes roamed the parched September +landscape and saw none of it. She did not appear unhappy--only removed +into a world of her own, a world of long, long thoughts. + +No one said much. There was not much to say and a great deal to think +about. Even the house, the terraces, the gardens called forth no more +than "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" of approval. Gladys declared that she felt +herself wandering through the castle scenes in "The Silver Queen," the +latest screen masterpiece, but no one else descended to such +comparisons. + +"It's like heaven," Gussie murmured timidly, to Bob, as they strolled +between hedges of dahlias. + +"Oh no, it isn't!" he laughed. "Three or four places at Marillo are much +finer than this." + +Subdued by sheer ecstasy, they assembled on the flagged terrace, where +Mrs. Gull brought out tea. Bob was pleased at Jennie's bearing toward +the chauffeur's wife--friendly with just the right touch of dignity. + +"Mr. Collingham tells me you're English. We're almost English ourselves, +since we were born in Canada. I've never been in England, but I should +so love to go, though they say it's quite different since the war." + +There was no more to it than that, but Mrs. Gull reported to her +husband: "As much a lady as any I've ever served under--and I do know a +lady when I see her. Miss Edith's a lady, too, but not a patch on this +one. She may have been just as bad as they say she was, but you'd never +believe it to look at her, and the sisters be'ave as pretty as pretty. +Oh dear! And they with a murderer for a brother! It do seem queer, now +don't it?" + +To which Gull replied in his usual antiphon, "It most zure and zertainly +do." + +The jarring chord in this harmony came from Lizzie, while Bob was in +search of Gull to bid him bring round the car. Lizzie stood looking down +the two flowered terraces, where in honor of the visitors the fountains +had been turned on. + +"I understand now why they couldn't afford to pay your father his +forty-five a week. It must cost a great deal of money to keep this +establishment going." + +"Oh, momma," Gussie pleaded, "don't begin to hang crape just when we're +able to enjoy ourselves a little." + +Lizzie turned on her daughter her rare and almost forgotten smile. + +"Very well, dear; enjoy yourself. Only a world in which enjoyment must +be bought at such a price is not a fit world for human beings to live +in." + +Gladys crept up, snuggling against her mother's shoulder. + +"Yes, momma darling; but you won't say that any more till we get home, +now will you? It might hurt poor Bob's feelings if you did, and you +_can't_ say that he's ever done us any harm." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +On the day after the visit to Collingham Lodge, Bob left for the camp in +the Adirondacks. As yet he had no knowledge of the family's attitude +toward him more exact than he could infer. He had written to them all +since his return, but their replies, even Edith's, had been +noncommittal. He guessed that they had decided together not to express +themselves fully till they came face to face with him. + +Even then, the approach to his own affairs was indirect. An affectionate +family reunion, based seemingly on the ground that nothing had happened +when so much _had_, blocked the openings for bringing up the subjects he +had most at heart. During the early part of that first evening at Sugar +Maple Point he couldn't get anyone alone. Not till nearly bedtime did he +himself offer a lead by strolling out into the moonlight in the hope +that one of the three would follow him. + +It was full moonlight, turning Sugar Maple Lake into a sheet of silver +and gold laid at the base of a velvety silhouette of mountains. The +magic of stillness, the tang of the forest, the repose of the spirit +from the girding and striving of the world--these lovelinesses came to +Bob Collingham with a peace such as they always brought, but which +to-night couldn't find a resting place. It couldn't find a resting place +because in this tranquil woodland more than anywhere else he found +himself wishing that Teddy Follett wasn't in a cell. + +Sugar Maple Lake is small for the Adirondacks, being no more than three +miles long and a mile and a half in width. All its shores are owned by +rich men, mostly from New York, who can keep themselves secluded. In +seclusion they are able to combine rusticity with the amenities of life, +in a wealthy, modern, American version of Marie Antoinette's humble +village at Versailles. At a stranger's first glance, the "camps" are but +lumbermen's log cabins on a larger scale; but when you come to the +conveniences and luxuries of living, they differ little from Marillo +Park. + +Reaching the thin line of maples and pines fringing the edge of the +lake, Bob turned to see if he was followed. At first there was no one. +The light from the windows and doors made a golden splotch on the +greenish silvery black of the sloping lawn, but no figure appeared in +the glow. Coming to the conclusion that this, too, was "a put-up job," +he was strolling back again when his mother, cloaked against the night +air, stole out and called his name softly. + +On reaching him she took his arm, and together they picked their way +along a graveled path leading toward the Point. + +"I'm so glad you've come," she said, instantly. "I've been having such a +terrible time with your father. You know how he is--so stern--so +relentless--" + +"He's been corking to me." + +"You mean the cablegram he sent you to Rio? Oh, well, I made him do +that. It's all over now, dear, and you mustn't worry; but at first--that +night when we heard that the Follett boy had got into trouble and I had +to tell your father of your marriage--well, I don't want to make things +out worse than they are, so I sha'n't tell you what he said; but I did +manage him. I soothed him and told him how he ought to take it and what +he ought to do--with the result that you got that message. You mustn't +think it was easy, dear--" + +"You've been a brick, old lady!" + +"I'm your mother, Bob. It's all summed up in that. Whatever makes for my +children's happiness makes for mine. Your father is not a woman, and +that's the difference between us. And now I've had all this trouble with +him over Edith's engagement; but he's given in at last." + +Bob sprang away from her. + +"Edith engaged? Who to? Not to Ayling?" + +She took his arm again, continuing toward the Point. + +"Yes, to Ernest. He was so opposed to it. But I've battled for my +child's heart, Bob, and I've won out. Your father is giving her ten +thousand a year. It isn't much, but they ought to be able to manage. We +didn't write you, partly because it was only settled last week, and it +was easier to wait and tell you." + +"But I thought you didn't like the match yourself, old girl." + +"Oh, me! I have to turn myself every way at once. I've no wishes of my +own. To reconcile my children to their father and their father to my +children is all I live and work for." + +Coming to the little rustic gazebo perched on the tip of the Point, they +entered and sat down. There being nothing to obtrude itself here on lake +and moon and mountain, it was as if they had left human crudities +behind. In the windless air, the fragrance of Bob's cigarette mingled +with the aromatic pungency of millions and millions of growing things. + +"There was simply nothing else to be done," Junia resumed. "There was +Edith eating her heart out and stubborn as a mule--and with the mess +you've made of things--not that you could _foresee_--or know the sort of +people you were getting in among--" + +It was the opening he had been looking for, and he knew that, whatever +the outcome, he must use it. + +"Exactly what do you mean by that, mother?" + +She seemed confused. + +"I don't suppose I mean anything--except what's obvious." + +Not to press the point at once, he said, "You saw Jennie." + +"Yes; I sent for her." + +"What did you think of her?" + +"Oh, what anyone would think. She's charming--to look at." + +"Only to look at?" + +"Her manner is charming, too. Of course! I--I don't quite know what you +want me to say." + +"How much did she tell you that afternoon?" + +She looked at him through the moonlight. + +"Hasn't she told _you_?" + +"She's told me nothing--except that you were lovely." + +"Then, Bob dear, I'm afraid I can't add anything. You see, they were +_her_ secrets--" + +"Oh! Then she told you secrets!" + +"Why, of course! What did you think?" + +"Any other secret besides that she and I had been married?" + +"Bob darling, I don't think it's fair to put me on the witness stand. +She's your wife--and because she's your wife I accept her. What I know +is buried here"--she smote her chest--"and if for your sake and hers I +try to forget it I think you might let me." + +For a few minutes he smoked in a silence broken only by the maniac cry +of a loon in the distance. + +"Did it occur to you," he asked at last, "that she was a very simple +girl who could easily become entangled in her talk when she tried to +explain things to a woman of the world?" + +"No; because the things said were very simple--just statements of fact +as to which there could be no misunderstanding." + +"Had the statements of fact anything"--he moistened his dry +lips--"anything to do with--with Hubert?" + +"Some of them. But there!" She caught herself up. "You're not going to +make me tell you things. I'm your mother, and if I intervene at all, it +must be in the way of helping you to come together and not of putting +you apart." She rose, drawing her cloak about her. "I think I must go +in, dear. I'm beginning to feel the damp." + +He, too, rose, sitting down again sidewise on the rustic rail of the +summerhouse. + +"Wait a minute, mother. I want to ask you something. When I was at +Marillo I wandered into your room one day and saw a picture." + +"A picture?" + +"Yes; a picture; and I--I wondered how it--it happened to come there." + +She bent a little toward him, drawing her cloak more closely about her. +If it was acting it was well done. + +"It--it couldn't have been--" + +He chucked the butt of his cigarette into the lake. + +"Yes, I guess it was. It had an inscription on it--'Life and Death, by +Hubert Wray.'" + +"Oh, my God! Where did you say you saw it, Bob?" + +"In your bedroom, against the wall. I thought it might be a portrait +you'd had done, and so lifted--" + +"And I told them to put it out of sight. You see, Hubert didn't send it +till after we'd left the house--just before he went to California. I'd +given orders that it was to be locked up in an empty closet in my +wardrobe room. Oh, Bob darling, I don't know what you're going to think +of me." + +"Oh, you're all right, mother. It wasn't you. I--I only wondered how +you'd come by the thing at all." + +She made an obvious effort at controlling emotion. + +"Why, Bob, it was this way. After--after what Jennie told me that day +I--I naturally thought a good deal about Hubert--and--and their +relations to each other--" + +"She talked about them, did she?" + +"Well, you see, in a way she had to. She was let in for it, poor thing. +I can't tell you everything without giving you the whole story--and it's +_her_ story, as I've said before. I've no right to betray her, and least +of all to you." + +"All right. Go on." + +"So when I'd heard that Hubert had a new picture at the Kahler +Gallery--and everyone was talking about it--and I knew from the things +they said what--what sort of a picture it was--" + +"Yes, yes; I understand." + +"Well, then, I--I went and saw it; and to--to get it out of sight I +bought it on the spot. I didn't want it to be still on exhibition when +you came back; and I hoped that people would forget it. I should have +burned it at once, only that Hubert delayed sending it, and--well, you +see how it happened. But even so, Bob dear, you knew you were marrying a +model--" + +"Oh yes; it isn't that--not altogether." + +She laid her hand on his shoulder. + +"What is it, Bob darling? Can't you tell _me_? I'm your mother, dear--" + +But he moved away from her touch, as if unable to bear sympathy. + +"I can't tell you yet, old lady. I must see my own way first. I've got +to get through this business about the boy before I take any step +whatever. She knows pretty well that I know that--that she and Hubert +are in love with--with each other--" + +"Oh, but Hubert is not in love with her. He told me so." + +"Not in love with her?" he cried, sharply. "Why isn't he?" + +"He said--oh, Bob, I can't talk about it. You'll--" + +"You've got to talk about it, mother. I can't _half_ know. I must +_know_! If he wasn't in love with her, what did he mean by making her +think--" + +"I don't believe he did make her think. He hinted that--that there'd +been something between them, but that--that with girls of that sort +you--you couldn't call it love." + +"Why couldn't you?" + +"Because--no, I won't, Bob! I'm your mother. I must make things easier +for you, and not harder, and so--" + +"It will make things easiest for me to know the truth. So go on! Out +with it! Tell me just what he said." + +She wrung her hands beneath the cloak. + +"He said it--it couldn't be love--with a girl whom--whom anyone could--" + +He sprang from the rail, holding up his hand. + +"Wait a minute, mother! Jennie's my wife. I'm her husband. I believe in +her." + +With her speed in trimming her sails to the wind, Junia caught the +direction. + +"I don't want you _not_ to believe in her, Bob. I didn't want to say any +of the things that--that you've been dragging out of me. You know that." + +"Yes, I know that, old lady, and I'm grateful. I had to drag them out +and know the worst that could be said, so as to contradict it in--in my +heart." + +"Oh, in your heart!" + +"Yes, in my heart. It's where I'm strongest--just as it's where dad is +strongest, too, if he'd only been true to himself. But that's a side +issue. What I want to say now--and what I'd like you to understand--is +that I _know_ that Jennie is good and pure and true and one of the +sweetest and loveliest spirits God ever made. I know it!" + +Junia couldn't be as feminine as she was without gazing in awe and +admiration at the tall, upright figure, which seemed taller and more +upright for the moonlight. + +"Would you know it--mind you, I'm only _putting_ it this way--would you +know it--with her own evidence to the contrary?" + +"Yes, mother; I should know it--with her own evidence to the contrary." + +She shivered and turned away from him. + +"I must really go in now, dear. I'm so afraid of catching cold. But--but +good night!" + +Having kissed him, she went down the steps, turning once more to look +back at him. Silhouetted against the oblong of light between two rough +pilasters, he was mechanically taking out his case and selecting a +cigarette. + +"You're splendid, Bob," she said, with a ring of sincerity that startled +him. "That's the way to love a woman. If there were only more men like +you! And--I _will_ say it, in spite of the things you've just made me +confess--there must be something very, very good in a girl to--to call +forth that kind of love." + +But Jennie herself made that kind of love more difficult. On returning +to town Bob found her changed. During all the weeks of the _modus +vivendi_ she had been gentle, submissive, grateful, accepting his terms +in the provisional spirit in which she understood them, and carrying +them out. When Teddy's affairs were settled--and they never defined what +they meant by that--she knew they were to have a reckoning; but the +reckoning was to be postponed till then. + +And now, all at once, she seemed disposed to force it on. His visit to +his family had frightened her. It frightened her the more in that he +said so little about it. He, too, was changed. He was silent, pensive. +He watched her more and talked to her less; but when he watched her his +eyes, so she said to herself, had a queer kind of sorrow in them. She +didn't wonder at that. Anyone's eyes would have had sorrow in +them--anyone who was seeing Teddy nearly every day and filling him up +with fortitude. If it had not been for Teddy's sake she would have done +her best to get Bob "out of it" long ago. + +Her fear now was of not being able to make this attempt of her own +accord. In other words, she shrank from being found out before +confessing of her own free will. Twenty words from Mrs. Collingham to +her son would rob her, Jennie, of such poor shreds of good intention as +she still possessed. + +The trouble was, first, the lack of opportunity, and then, the waiting +for the right emotional moment. It was not a thing you could spring at +any chance hour of the day. Something must lead up to it and make it +natural. + +But a week after his return from Sugar Maple Point, the occasion seemed +to present itself. It was one of those evenings in late September when +indoors was too stifling. In pursuance of his plans for distracting the +family, which meant so much to Teddy, Bob had motored the mother and +daughters to a small country restaurant, where they had had supper, and +had brought them home again. Lizzie and the two girls having said good +night, Jennie was about to do the same, but he held her by the hand. + +"Don't go in. Let's walk a bit." + +"So it's come," Jennie thought. "I must do it before we get home." + +Even so she put it off. He, too, put off whatever in himself was burning +to find words. They said as little as they could without being +altogether silent, and that little was mere commonplace. + +"Wonderful night, isn't it?" + +"Yes; and I think we're going to have a breeze. It isn't so hot as an +hour ago." + +"Anyhow, the hot weather must be nearly over. It will be October in a +day or two." + +"But we often have very hot days in October. I remember that last +year--" + +So they came to Palisade Walk and turned into it. Though the moon was +not yet up, the effulgence of its approach made a halo above the city. +Manhattan was a line of constellations the riverway a gulf of darkness +in which were scattered stars. Along the parapet, shadowy couples, +mostly lovers, formed little ghostly groups, while here and there was +the point of light of a cigarette or cigar. + +They came to a halt, Jennie leaning against one of the dragon's teeth, +looking over at the city, Bob standing a little back from her. + +"I've never been here at night before," he said. "I'd no idea it was so +beautiful." + +"We don't come very often ourselves. We live so near that I suppose +we're used to it." + +"We had some wonderful evenings at Sugar Maple Point; but that was +another kind of thing." + +She assembled her forces without turning to look at him or making any +change in her tone. + +"I suppose you talked to your mother while you were up there?" + +"Oh, of course!" + +"About me?" + +Divining what was coming, he was on his guard. "You were +mentioned--naturally." + +"And she told you things?" + +"Some things." + +"Some things about me that--that were new to you?" + +"Yes; some things about you that were new to me." + +"Did she tell you--everything?" + +"I'm not in a position to say that it was everything; but--but I rather +think it was. What of it?" + +"Oh--only, that--that I'm as bad as she said I was. I--I wanted you to +know that it was true." + +The long stillness was broken only by a moan like that of a wounded +monster from a ferryboat far away. + +"Why do you want me to know that?" he asked, at length. + +"So that you'll see now that when--when everything is over about +Teddy--you'll be--you'll be free." + +"But suppose I don't want to be free?" + +"But I want it for you." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, it's very simple." She turned, leaning with her back to the rock. +"It's just this, Bob--I'm not fit to be your wife. I never was fit. I +never shall be fit. There it is in a nutshell. It isn't education and +social things that I'm talking about. I'm--I'm too--I don't know how to +put it--but you're so big--" + +"We'll drop all that, Jennie, if you don't mind, because it isn't a case +of fitness on either your part or mine; it's one of love." + +She hung her head. + +"Oh, love! I--I don't think I--I know what it is." + +"I'm sure you don't. It's what I've told you. I want to show you what +it's like. Do you know what I said to the old lady when she got off +those things? She didn't want to do it, mind you," he hastened to +explain. "She wanted to keep your secrets and be true to you--but I +dragged them out of her. And do you know what I said to her? Well, I'm +going to repeat it to you now. I said I wouldn't believe anything +against you--not even on your own evidence." + +"Is that love, Bob--or is it just being stubborn?" + +"I shall let you find that out for yourself--as we go on." + +"Oh! as we go on?" + +"Yes, as we go on, Jennie. We're going on. Don't make any mistake about +that. I know how you feel. Everything looks so dark to you now that you +can't believe it will ever be light again; but it will be, Jennie. All +families and all individuals go through these experiences--not as +terrible as yours, perhaps--but terrible all the same. Not one of us is +spared. Sometimes it seems to you as if you just couldn't go through +with it; but you can. You must hang on--and bear it--and it will pass. +That's what I'm here for--to help you to hang on--and, Jennie, clinging +together, as we're doing, we'll come out to the light--even Teddy--and +your mother. Oh, look! There the light is now--the light +everlasting--that always comes back, if we only wait for it!" + +At the pointing of his finger and his sudden cry she turned to face the +eternal wonder of the moonrise. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +During the next few months, the necessity for bracing Teddy and his +sisters to meet fate threw Bob Collingham's personal preoccupations more +and more into the background. All that was implied by the fact that +Jennie was his wife and he was her husband went into this single supreme +task. + +Habit came to his aid by fitting them all to the situation as though +they had never been in any other. They grew used to the fact that Teddy +was in jail and might come out of it only by one exit. Teddy grew used +to it himself. The family, once more at Marillo, grew used to the odd +arrangement by which Bob and Jennie worked together and lived apart. The +Collinghams grew used to the thought of the Folletts, and the Folletts +to that of the Collinghams. + +"You get used to anything," Junia commented to her husband, as one who +has made a new discovery. "It seems to me as if Edith's living in that +flat on Cathedral Heights and keeping only one maid is all I'd ever +dreamed for her." + +To Bob, this wonting of the mind was the easier because Wray stayed in +California, his absence making it possible to leave in abeyance the +subjects that couldn't yet be touched upon. + +The first chance of fortifying the three girls seemed to present itself +on a night in that autumn when it was still warm enough to sit on the +screened piazza. His car was, as usual, before the door, and in an hour +or so he would be making his way to Marillo. As he had returned to his +work at the bank, his spare time was now in the evenings. + +"If you want to do something for me, Gladys, there's a way." + +He said this in reply to an aspiration of all three, in which the +youngest sister had been spokesman. + +Gladys's voice was eager and affectionate. + +"What way, Bob? Tell us. We'll do anything." + +Smoothing Pansy's back as she lay on his crossed knees, he considered +how best to make it clear. Gladys sat close to him, as the one who most +easily took him fraternally. Gussie, in whom he stirred an unusual +self-consciousness, kept herself more aloof. Altogether in the shadow, +Jennie was seemingly withdrawn, and yet more intensely aware of him than +anyone. + +"It's this way," he tried to explain: "Living is like climbing a +mountainside. You drag yourself up to a ledge where you can stand and +take breath, and feel that you've reached somewhere. Then, just as you +think that you can camp there and be comfortable for the rest of your +life, you find yourself summoned to move to the next ledge higher up. At +that some of us get discouraged; some fall off and go down; but most of +us brace ourselves for another great big test. Do you see?" + +Gladys answered, doubtfully, "I see--a little." + +"Well then, the thing we need for the test is pluck, isn't it?" + +Gussie spoke dreamily. + +"We need pluck for everything." + +"So we do; and I often think that we don't make enough of it. Pluck is +different from courage, because it's--how shall I say?--it's a little +more cheery and intimate. Courage is like a Sunday suit that you wear +for big occasions; but pluck is your everyday clothes, which you need +all the time and feel easy in. Courage is noble and heroic--something +we'd be shy about claiming. Pluck is the courage of the common man, +which anyone can feel he has a right to." + +"I can't," Gussie confessed. "I'm the awfulest coward." + +With this Gladys agreed. + +"Yes, Gus is a regular scarecat. I'm not afraid of hardly anything." + +"We're all cowards in our way; but we could all be plucky when we +mightn't like to call ourselves brave. Do you get what I mean?" Gladys +made a sound of assent which seemed to answer for all three. "Well, what +I'm trying to say is this: That the time has come when we're all being +summoned--you three--and me--and Teddy--and all of us--to pull up to +another ledge. It's going to be tough, but we can make up our minds that +we can go through with it. I don't mean just knowing that we _must_ go +through with it, but knowing that we _can_." + +There was silence for the two or three minutes during which the girls +thought this over. + +"You said," Gladys reasoned, "that it was something we could do for you. +I don't see--" + +"You'd do it for me, because it's easier to pull with strong people +rather than with weak ones. You see, this is something which no one of +us can meet alone; we must all meet it together, and the stronger each +of us is the stronger we all are. Being strong is a matter of knowing +that you're strong, just as being weak is the same. If I was sure that +none of you was going to break down, I could be stronger myself, and we +could all buck up Teddy." + +After another brief silence, Gladys sighed. + +"All the same, it would be terrible--if they did anything to him." + +"Not more terrible than what millions of sisters faced in the last few +years, with their brothers blown to bits. They were able to bear it by +getting the idea that they could." + +Jennie spoke for the first time. + +"Ah, but that was glory, and this is disgrace." + +"Then it calls for more pluck--that's all. The test comes to one in one +way and to another in another. Real glory is in meeting it." + +It was still Jennie who urged the difficulties. + +"But when it's the hardest test that ever comes to anyone in the world!" + +"Why, then, it's pluck again, and still more pluck. It _is_ the hardest +test that ever comes to anyone in the world. It's harder than when women +hear their boys are missing, and never know what becomes of them; and +that's pretty hard. But, Jennie, hard things are the making of us, and +if we come through the hardest test in the world and still keep our +kindlier feelings and our common sense, why, then, we come out pretty +strong, don't we?" + +Jennie said no more. She liked to have him talk to them in this way. It +took for granted that they were worth talking to, and to become worth +talking to had been a secret aim since the day when she first learned +the value of pictures and books. A good many times she had stolen in to +confer with the genial custodian at the Metropolitan; a good many +volumes she had hidden in her room to study after she went to bed. She +had proved to herself that she had a mind; and now Bob was hinting at +unknown resources of strength. It nerved her; it put new heart in her. +Having always been taught to consider herself weak, the suggestion that +she could come through her test victoriously--that she could help him +and Gussie and Gladys and Teddy and her mother to do the same--thrilled +her like a sudden revelation. + +To Bob himself the theme was not a new one, though it was the first time +he had ever got any of it into words. He had been mulling over it and +round it ever since the war first called him from a state of mental +lethargy. Needing then a clew to life, he had cast about him without +finding one. Neither Groton nor Harvard had ever given him anything he +could seize. His parents hadn't given him anything, nor had their +religion. Mentally, he had gone to France much as a jellyfish puts to +sea, to be tossed about without volition of its own, and get its support +from the food that drifts its way. Nothing much had drifted his way till +he found himself in the hospital. + +There, in the long, empty days and sleepless nights, the "why" of things +played in and out of his brain like a devil's tattoo. He hated to think +that all he had witnessed was futility and waste, and yet no explanation +that anyone gave him made it seem otherwise. The question of suffering +was the one that most perplexed him. What was the good of it? Why had it +to be? Even the agony of his slashed head and crushed foot was almost +beyond bearing; and what was that in comparison with all the pain, +physical and emotional, at that minute in the world? What was the idea? +How did it get you anywhere? + +In as far as he received an answer, it came one night when he waked from +a light doze. He waked repeating certain words which he recognized as +vaguely familiar: + +"_Thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ._" + +He said them over two or three times before getting their significance. + +"That's it," he thought then. "That's why we have to go through all this +rumpus. 'Thou therefore endure _hardness_!' _Endure_ it! Accept it! Rub +it in! That's it, by gum!" The expletive was the strongest in which his +feeble state allowed him to indulge; but he continued: "That's what's +the matter with me. I'm not hard. I'm soft. I'm soft inside. In my mind, +in my heart, I'm like putty, like dough. It isn't that I'm tender; I'm +just _soft_. If I've ever had to bear anything hard, I've kicked like +the dickens; and that's why I'm such an ass now. 'Thou therefore endure +_hardness_!' I'll be hanged if I won't try." + +So the trying came to be a kind of religion--not a very vital religion, +or one as to which he was very keen, and yet a religion. During the +winter he was seeing Jennie, and the spring he married her, and the +summer he spent in South America, he had fumbled with it without getting +hold of it. Not till he began his strivings with Teddy, and his efforts +to divert the minds of Teddy's family, did it grow sharply defined to +his vision as a way of life. + +Perhaps it was Teddy who taught him. Perhaps they mutually taught each +other. He couldn't tell. He only became aware that something was working +in the boy like the might of spirit in the inner man. Possibly Teddy was +learning more quickly than himself because his lessons were more +intensive. + +He noticed this first on the day when he went, at the lawyer's +suggestion, to back up the argument that to plead guilty was the only +hope. + +"I've done all I can with him," Stenhouse declared. "Now it's up to you. +He thinks you're God; and so you may have some influence." + +"But I never will," Teddy answered, coolly. "I'd never have done +society--as the chaplain calls it--any harm if society hadn't done me +harm to begin with. I may be guilty in the second place, but society is +guilty in the first, and no one will make me say anything different from +that." + +"That's all very well, Teddy; but society won't accept the plea." + +"Then it can do the other thing." + +Bob's tone became significant. + +"And you realize what--what the other thing might be?" + +"You bet I do! You can't live in Murderers' Row without having _that_ +rubbed into you." + +They talked softly, in a corner of the visitors' room, because other +little groups were scattered about, each centering round some sullen, +swarthy man, wreathed in mystery and darkness. + +"That's all right, old chap," Bob agreed; "but you see, don't you, that +it's only a stand for an idea?" + +"It's a stand for telling the truth, isn't it?" + +"The truth--as you see it?" + +"The truth as it is--as I'm willing to bank on it." + +"Banking on it in a way that--that may call for a great deal of pluck." + +"Well, I've got a great deal of pluck." + +"Yes--if you've got enough. It's one thing to say so now, and another to +prove it when the time comes." + +In his suppressed vehemence Teddy grasped Bob's wrist, as the hands of +both lay on the small table above which their heads came together. + +"I've got the pluck for anything but to go before their court and say +what you want me to say. I took the money because my father and mother, +after slaving for society all their lives, had a right to it; I shot a +man because they'd got me so jumpy with all the wrongs they'd done me +that I didn't know what my hand was up to. If they won't let me have my +kind of justice, they'll just have to dope me out their own, and I'll +swallow it." + +Another conversation, in the same spot, and with heads together in the +same way, was gentler. + +"I know pretty well what they're going to hand me out--and it'll be all +right. What kind of life would I have now, even if they acquitted me? +What could I have had even if I'd never got into this scrape at all? I'm +not cut out for big things. I'm just the same size as poor old dad, and +I'd have gone the same way. Ma's got it straight--it's not good enough. +Think of rotting in an office all your life just to reach the gorgeous +sum of forty-five a week, and when you've got it to be chucked into the +hell of the unemployed! Say, Bob, why can't everyone have enough in a +world where there's plenty to go round?" + +"I guess it's because we haven't the right kind of world." + +"But why haven't we? We've been at it long enough." + +"Perhaps not. That may be where the trouble lies. When life came on this +planet, to begin with, it took millions of years to get it anywhere. +Nobody knows how long it was before the thing that lived in the water +could creep on the land; but it was time to be reckoned by ages. When +you come to ages, the human race is young. It's made a life for itself +which it doesn't know how to swing. In a few more ages it may learn; but +it hasn't learned as yet." + +Teddy reflected. + +"So you've just got to take it as it is." + +"That seems to be the number. We may kick because it isn't perfect, but +we don't know how to make it perfect, and that's all there is to say." + +"It's easier for your kind to say than for ours." + +"It's not as easy as it seems for any kind. I don't see anyone, rich or +poor, who hasn't to spend most of his energy in bucking up. The poor +think it's easier for the rich, because they have the money; and the +rich think it's easier for the poor, because they haven't the +responsibilities. So there you are. I begin to think that making +yourself strong--_hard_--tough in your inner fiber--is about the biggest +asset you can bring to life." + +"Or death," Teddy said, softly. + +"Or death," Bob agreed. + +On another occasion, Teddy was in another mood. + +"If I didn't get it now, I guess it would have come along later; so that +it's just as well to have it over." + +Bob's mind went back to Stenhouse's view of Teddy's character. + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"Oh, just what I say. You can't see red like me without being a more +dangerous cuss than you mean to be. I'd have got into trouble sometime, +even if I hadn't done this." Before Bob could find a response Teddy went +on: "I suppose you think that because I don't say anything about Flynn I +haven't got him on my mind. Well, you're wrong." + +"Oh, I didn't think that." + +"But what _can_ I say? I think and think and think, and then begin +thinking again. So that," he jerked out, "that's a reason, too." + +"A reason for what, Teddy?" + +He answered obliquely. + +"I can't keep up that kind of thinking. I'll go crazy if I do. I'd +rather be sent to where I can get another point of view. I don't care +what kind of point of view it is, so long as it isn't this one. If I +could come face to face with Flynn, I believe I could make him +understand. Do you suppose there's any chance of that?" + +It was inevitable that, in the long run, speculative questions should +lead them farther still. + +"What do you suppose God is?" Teddy said, unexpectedly, one day. + +Bob smiled. + +"Ask me something easier." + +"But you must have some idea." + +"I'm not sure that I have." + +"Don't you believe in God? I should have thought that you'd be the kind +of cuss who would." + +"I don't know that you can call it believing. It's more like--like +having a kind of instinct--helped out by a little thinking." + +"Have I got the instinct?" + +"Can't you tell that yourself?" + +"If I told you you'd howl." + +"No, I shouldn't. Go to it." + +Teddy laughed sheepishly, as if he had ventured to peer into secrets +which were none of his business. + +"I'll tell you the way God seems to me--it's all come to me while I've +been in there." He nodded toward the cells. "I don't seem to get him as +a great big man, the way the chaplain says he is. He's all right, the +chaplain, only he don't seem to know anything about God. He can gas away +to beat the band about law, and society, and the good of the community, +and hell to pay when you don't respect them; but when it comes to +God--it's nix." + +"Well, what do you make out for yourself?" + +"I haven't made it out exactly. It's as if some great big hand had +pulled aside a curtain--but it's a curtain that I didn't know was there. +See?" + +"Yes, I see. And what does it show you?" + +"That's the funny part of it. I can't tell you what it shows me. I don't +exactly see it; I only know--mind you, I'm just telling you how it seems +to me--I only know that it's God." + +"But I suppose, if you know that it's God, you have an idea of what it's +like?" + +"Ye-es; it's like--like a country into which I'm traveling--not with my +body--see?--but with my _self_. No," he corrected, "that's not it. It +isn't a country; it's more like a life. Oh, shucks! I haven't got it +straight yet. Now look! This is the way it is. Suppose that everything +we see was alive--that these chairs were alive, and the walls, and the +table--that every blamed thing we ever touch or use was alive, and had a +voice. See?" Bob nodded that he saw. "Now, suppose every voice was +trying to make you understand things. The table would say, 'This is the +way God wants you to work'; and the chair, 'This is the way God wants +you to rest'; and the walls, 'This is the way God stands round you and +backs you up.' Everything would be helping you then, instead of putting +itself dead against you the way we have it here." + +"I get the idea; but would that be God?" + +Over this question the boy's face brooded thoughtfully. + +"It mightn't be God in the way that you're you and I'm me. It would be +more like a way of _knowing_ God. It's like my case in the courts. It's +set down as 'The People against Edward S. Follett.' But I don't see the +People; I only feel what they do to me. It's something like that. I +don't see God; but I kind of feel--" He broke with another apologetic +laugh. "Oh, I guess it's all wrong. Gussie'd call me a gump. It just +kind of gets you; that's all. It makes me feel as if I was moving on +into something--but I guess I'm not." + +The pensive silence that followed was broken by Bob's saying: + +"That's what I mean by instinct." + +Teddy resumed as if he hadn't heard. "When I wake up in the night--and +waking up in the night in that place, with snores and groans and guys +talking in their sleep and having nightmares, is some stunt, believe +_me_--but when I do, it's just as if I had great big arms round me, and +some one was saying: 'All right, Teddy, I'm holding you. Keep a stiff +upper lip. I'll make it as easy as I can for you and everyone else. I'm +just drawing you--drawing you--drawing you--a wee little bit at a +time--over here, where you'll get your big chance.' What's more, Bob," +he went on, as if he touched on the heart of his interest, "it says +it'll take care of Flynn and his wife and his poor little kiddies, and +do the things--" Once more he broke off with his uneasy laugh. "Ah, +what's the use? You think I'm a quitter, don't you?" + +"Why should I think that?" + +"Oh, I don't know. I talk like a quitter. But it isn't that. If I could +still do anything for ma and the girls--" + +"I'm looking after them, old boy." + +"So there you are. What'd be the good of my staying?" He added, between +clenched teeth, "God, how I'd hate to go back!" + +"Back into the world?" + +He spoke as if to himself: "You see--that day--the day the thing +happened--and they came and caught me--and did all those things to +me--and I saw Flynn lying by the road--it was--it was a kind of +sickener. If putting me out of the way is the thing in the wind, it was +done right there and then. Right there and then I seem to have +begun--moving on." He drew a long breath. "And I'd rather keep moving, +Bob--no matter to where--no matter to what--than turn back again to face +a bunch of men." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Teddy was not called on to face a bunch of men till going to the +courtroom for his trial. Dressed long before the hour in a new dark-blue +suit, fresh linen, and a dark-blue tie, his prison pallor, a little like +that of death, put him out of the list of the active and free. As he sat +on the edge of his bunk, somber with dread, he was nevertheless obliged +to find suitable jocosities with which to answer the good-luck wishes +that came slithering along the walls from the neighboring cells. It was +half past nine before two guards whom he had never seen before, stalwart +fellows well over six feet, came to the door and unlocked it. + +"Ready, Follett? Time's come." + +Springing to his feet, he found handcuffs slipped round his wrists +before he was aware of what was being done. It was an unexpected +indignity. He had never been handcuffed before. + +"Say, fellows," he protested, "I'll go all right. I don't want these on +me." + +"Come along wid ye." + +The words were friendly rather than rough, as was also the hand of a +guard on each shoulder as they steered him along the corridor. The Brig +is a rambling building, or succession of buildings, with courthouse and +house of detention under the same series of roofs. The pilgrimage was +long--upstairs, downstairs, through passages, past offices, past +courtrooms, with guards, police, clerks, lawyers, litigants, loungers, +standing about everywhere. The sight of a man in handcuffs arrested all +eyes for the moment, and stilled all tongues. With his glances flying +from right to left and from left to right, Teddy again began to feel the +sense of separation from the human race which had struck to his soul +that day on the marshes. + +Of his other impressions, the chief was that of squalor. It seemed as if +all the elements had been brought together that would make poor Justice +vulgar and unimpressive. Out of a squalid cell he had been pushed along +squalid hallways, through groups of squalid faces, into a squalid +courtroom, where he was ushered into a squalid cage, long and narrow, +with a seat hardly wider than a knife blade. Once within the cage the +handcuffs were taken off, the door was locked, and each of the stalwart +guards took his stand at one end. The cage being raised some six or +eight inches above the level of the floor, the boy was well in sight of +everyone. It was like being on a throne--or a Calvary. + +On taking his seat, he was vaguely conscious of a bank of faces, tier +above tier, at the back of the courtroom. Before him some fifteen or +twenty officials, reporters, and lawyers lolled at their tables, walked +about, yawned, picked their teeth, or told anecdotes that raised a +smothered laugh. Most of them struck him as untidily dressed; few looked +intelligent. Among them a portly man, whom he afterward saw as the +district attorney, in a cutaway coat, with a line of pique at the +opening of his waistcoat, seemed like a person in fancy costume. +Everyone paused as he entered the cage, but, a glance having satisfied +their curiosity, they paid him no further attention. + +The trial lasted three days, passing before his eyes like a +motion-picture film of which he was only a spectator. Try as he would, +he found it hard to believe that the proceedings had anything to do with +him. "All this fuss," he would comment to himself, grimly, "to get the +right to kill a man." The strain of being under so many cruel or +indifferent eyes sent him back with relief to his cell, where during the +nights he slept soundly. + +His one bit of surprise came from Stenhouse's final argument in his +defense. Up to that point, both defense and prosecution had struck him +as more or less silly. The state had tried to prove him a desperado whom +it was dangerous to let live; the defense had done its best to show him +a youth of arrested intelligence, not responsible for his acts. He +grinned inwardly when Jennie, Gussie, and half a dozen of his old chums +testified to foolish pranks, forgotten or half forgotten by himself, in +the hope of convincing the court that he had never had the normal sense. + +But Stenhouse in his concluding speech transcended all that, taking +Teddy's own stand as the only one which offered the ghost of a chance of +acquittal. He began his final appeal quietly, in a tone little more than +colloquial. + +"There's an old saying, a variant on something said by Benjamin +Franklin, which we might remember oftener than we do. It's terse, pithy, +humorous, wise. Some one has called it the finest bit of free verse +composed in the eighteenth century. Listen to it. '_It is hard to make +an empty sack stand upright._' So it is. The empty sack collapses of its +own accord. It can't do anything but collapse. It was not meant to stand +upright. To demand that it shall stand upright is to insist on the +impossible. A full sack will stand as solid as a tree. A group of full +sacks will support one another. Put the empty sack among them and from +the very law of gravitation it will go down helplessly. Now, gentlemen +of the jury, you're being asked to bring in a verdict against the empty +sack--the sack that's been carefully kept empty--because it hasn't the +strength and stability of that which all the coffers of the country have +combined to fill." + +With this as a text, Stenhouse drew a picture of the industrious man who +is limited by the very nature of his industry. He is not limited by his +own desire, but by the use society wishes to make of him. Serving a +turn, he is schooled to serve that turn, and to serve no other turn. +This schooling takes him unawares. He doesn't know it has begun before +waking to find himself drilled to a system from which only a giant can +escape. Few men being giants, the average man plods on because he +doesn't know what else to do. There is rarely anything else _for_ him to +do. Having taken the first ill-paid job that comes his way, he hasn't +meant to give himself to it all his life. He dreams of something bigger, +more brilliant, more productive. The boy who runs errands sees himself a +merchant; the lad who becomes a clerk looks forward to being a partner; +the young man who enters a bank is sure that some day he will be bank +president. + +"Sometimes, gentlemen, these early visions work out to a reality. But in +the vast majority of cases, the youth, before he ceases to be a youth, +finds himself where the horse is when he has once submitted to the +bridle. He can go only as he is driven. Life is organized not to let him +go in any other way. Needing him for a certain purpose, it keeps him to +that purpose. Work, taken as a great corporate thing, is made up of +hundreds of millions of tiny tasks each of which calls for a man. The +man being found, he must be trimmed to the size of his task." + +Stenhouse had no quarrel with methods universally followed by civilized +man. To criticize them was not his intention, as it was not his +intention to complain because man had not yet brought in the Golden Age. + +"But I do claim that the smaller the task to which a man is nailed down, +and the smaller the pay he is able to earn, the greater the +responsibility of collective society toward that individual." + +There was a time, he declared, when much had been said to the discredit +of slavery; but one thing could be urged in its favor. The man who had +been kept throughout his life to one small job was not thrown out in his +old age to provide for himself as he could. Having worked for society, +as society was constituted then, society recognized at least the duty of +taking care of him. Stenhouse disclaimed any comparison between free +American labor and a servile condition; he was striving only for a +principle. Men couldn't be screwed down during all their working lives +to the lowest wage on which body and soul could be kept together, and +then be judged by the same standards as those who had had opportunity to +make provision for themselves and their families. The same +interpretation of the law couldn't be made to cover the cases of the +full sack and the empty one. + +"And yet," he went on, changing his tone with his theme, "the empty sack +is of value because it can be filled. Coarse, cheap, negligible as it +seems, it is much too good to throw away. It is an asset to production, +to the country's trade, to the whole world's wealth. And, gentlemen, +what shall we say when we call that empty sack--a man?" + +The value of the human asset was the next point to which he led his +listeners. + +"It is only a truism to say that among all the precious things with +which the Almighty has blessed his creation the most precious is a human +life; and yet we live in a world which seems to believe this so little +that we must sometimes remind ourselves that it is so. Within a few +years we have seen millions of men reckoned merely as _stuff_. As +productive assets to the race, they haven't counted. We could read of a +day's loss on the battlefield running up into the thousands and never +turn a hair. We came to regard a young man's life as primarily a thing +to throw away. It is for this reason, gentlemen of the jury, that I +venture to remind you that a young man's life is primarily a thing to +save. It may be a truism to say that a human life is the most precious +of all created things; but it is a truism of which we are only now, to +our bitter and incalculable cost, beginning to realize the truth." + +He went on to draw a picture of the contributions to the general good +made by the Folletts, father and son. Their work had been humble, but it +had been essential. Essential work faithfully performed should guarantee +an old age protected against penury. He reminded his hearers that he was +not opposed to the law of supply and demand, which was the only known +method by which the business of the world could be carried on. He only +pleaded for the same humanity to a man as was shown to a broken-down old +horse. From his one interview with Lizzie, Stenhouse had got what he +called "the good line," "_Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out +the corn._" Of this he now made use, following it up with St. Paul's +explanation: "Doth God take care for oxen? Or saith he it altogether for +our sakes? For our sakes, no doubt, this is written: that he that +ploweth may plow in hope; and that he that thresheth in hope should be +partaker of his hope." + +"Gentlemen, so long as we live in a society in which the vast majority +of us can never be partakers of the hope with which we started out, so +long must justice take account of the suffering of the poor muzzled +brute that treadeth out the corn. If he goes frenzied and runs amuck, he +cannot be judged by the standards which apply to him who has been left +unmuzzled and free to satisfy his wants. It is not fair; it is not +human. It is true that to protect your own interests you have the power +to shoot him down; but when he lies dead at your feet, no more muzzled +in death than he was in life, there is surely somewhere in the universe +an avenging force that is on his side, and which will make you--you as +representatives of the society which has placed its action in your +hands--and you as twelve private individuals with duties and +consciences--there is somewhere in the universe this avenging force +which will require his blood at your hands and make you pay the penalty. +Surely you can find a better use for that valuable asset, a young man's +life, than just to take it away. For the sake of the public whose honor +is in your keeping, you must play the game squarely. For the sake of +your own future peace of mind, you must not add your own crime to this +poor boy's misfortune. Your duty at this minute is not merely to +interpret the dead letter of a law; it is to be the voice of the People +whom you represent. Remember that by the verdict you bring in that +People will be committed to the most destructive of all destructive +acts, or it will get expression for that deep, human common sense which +transcends written phrases to act in the spirit of the greatest of us +all, judging not according to the appearance--not according to the +appearance, gentlemen, and you remember who counseled that--but judging +righteous judgment." + +He fell back into his seat, exhausted. He was so impressive and +impassioned as to convince many of his hearers that he believed his own +plea, while to some who had considered the verdict a certainty it was +now in doubt. + +Among Teddy's friends a hope arose that, in spite of all expectation to +the contrary, he might be saved. Bob looked over and smiled. Teddy +smiled back, but mainly because he rejoiced in what he felt to be his +justification. He couldn't see how they could convict him after such a +setting forth as that, though for the consequences of acquittal he had +so little heart. + +In the excitement of the courtroom, the judge's voice, when he began to +give the jury their instructions, fell like cool, quiet rain on +thunderous sultriness. He was a small man, with a leathery, unemotional +face, framed by an iron-gray wig of faultless side-parting and long, +straight, unnaturally smooth hair. He had the faculty of seeming +attentive without being influenced. Listening, reasoning, asking a +question, or settling a disputed point, he gave the impression of having +reduced intelligence to the soulless accuracy of a cash register. + +He reminded the jury that the law was not on trial; society was not on +trial; the industrial experience of one Josiah Follett was not a feature +in the case. They must not allow the issue to be confused by the social +arguments which befogged so many of the questions of the day. It was +quite possible that the world was not as perfect as it might be; it was +even possible that the law was not the most perfect law that could be +passed. But these were considerations into which they could not enter. +In merely approaching them, they would lose their way. The law as it +stands is the voice of the People as it is; and the only questions +before them were, first, whether or not the accused had broken that law, +and second, if he had broken it, to what degree. In answering these +questions, they must limit themselves to the bare facts of the charge. +With the prisoner's temptations they had nothing to do, except in so far +as they tended to create intent. The consequences to his person, whether +in the way of liberty or of the last penalty, were no concern of others. +Justice in itself, viewed as justice in the abstract, was no concern of +theirs. They were not, however, to burden their consciences with the +fear that the accused was thus deprived of protection. The duty of a +jury was not protection, but discernment. The administration of the law +was far too big and complex a thing for any one body of men to deal +with. Justice having many aspects, the law had as many departments. +Protection was in other hands than theirs. The application of justice +pure and simple, involving punishment for guilt without excluding pity +for the provocation, was duly guaranteed by the methods of the state. +They would find their task simplified by dismissing all such hesitations +from their minds and confining themselves to the definite question which +he repeated. Had the prisoner at the bar broken the existing law, and if +he had so broken it, to what degree? + +Having explained the difference between manslaughter and murder, as well +as between first-degree murder and second, he admitted that, in case the +accused was found guilty, there was much to indicate the second degree +rather than the first. There was, however, one damning fact. The hand +that had shot Peter Flynn went on at once to shoot William Jackman. The +killing of one man might have been an accident. If not an accident, it +might still have mitigating features. But for the murderer of a first +man to proceed at once to become the murderer of a second indicated a +planned and deliberate intent.... + +When the court had adjourned and the jury had retired to consider their +verdict, one of the guards unlocked the cage and Teddy was taken down by +a corkscrew staircase to a room immediately below. It was a small room, +lighted by one feeble bulb, and aired from an air shaft. A table and two +chairs stood in the middle of the room; a shiny, well-worn bench was +fixed to one of the walls. The guards took the chairs; Teddy sat down on +the bench. One of the guards cut off a piece of tobacco and put it in +his mouth; the other lighted a cheap cigar. Taking another from an upper +waistcoat pocket, he held it out toward Teddy. + +"Have a smoke, young fella?" + +Teddy shook his head. He was hardly aware of being addressed. Nothing +else was said to him, and the guards, almost silently, began a game of +cards. This waiting with prisoners for verdicts was always a tedious +affair, and one to be got through patiently. + +To Teddy, it was not so much tedious as it was unreal. He sat with arms +folded, his head sunk, and the foot of the leg which was thrown across +the other leg kicking outward mechanically. Except for a rare grunted +remark between the players, there was no sound but the slap of the cards +on the table and the scooping in of the tricks. + +After nearly half an hour the door opened and Bob Collingham came in +with a basket containing sandwiches and a thermos bottle of hot coffee. +With a word of explanation to the guards, he was allowed to take his +seat beside the prisoner. + +"Hello, old sport! Must be relieved that it's so soon going to be over. +Brought you something to eat." + +With this introduction, they took up commonplace ground as if it was a +commonplace occasion. Teddy asked after his mother and sisters; Bob gave +him the family news. Of the trial they said nothing. Of what they were +waiting for no more was said than that Bob had persuaded Jennie and +Gussie to go home, promising to come and tell them the decision. Lizzie +and Gladys had not appeared in the courtroom at all. Of all this Teddy +approved as he munched his sandwiches stolidly. + +The supply of food and coffee being large, they invited the guards to +share with them. The invitation was accepted, the officers suspending +their game. The talk became friendly, commenting on the judge's wig and +the glass eye of the foreman of the jury, but not touching directly on +the trial. These subjects, as well as the supply of sandwiches, +exhausted, the guards returned to their game, the two young men being +left to themselves. + +For the most part they sat in silence--a silence as nearly cheerful as +the circumstances permitted. + +"Don't worry about me, Bob," Teddy murmured once. "I'm not going to care +much whichever way it is. Honest to God! I don't say I wouldn't like it +if they sent me back home; but if they don't--" + +Allowing his companion to finish the sentence for himself, he lapsed +into silence again. + +Another time, speaking as if subterranean thought came for a moment to +the surface, he said: + +"I liked what you said about hardness--and pluck. I've been practicing +away on them both--making myself tough inside. Funny how you can, isn't +it? You think at first that, because you're soft, you've got to be soft; +but you find out that you're just what you like to make yourself. That's +a great line, Bob, '_Thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of +Jesus Christ._' You watch," he added, with a tremulous smile, "and +you'll see me doing it." + +"All right, old boy, I'll watch, but we'll all be doing it with you. +We're practicing, too. Jennie and the girls are regular bricks, and, of +course, your mother--" + +He smiled again. + +"Good old ma! She sure is the best ever. I'd be sorrier for her than I +am if I didn't feel certain that if--that if I go she won't wait long +after me." He swung away from this aspect of his thought to a new one. +"Say, Bob, do you suppose it's a sign that God really is with me--gump +as I am!--that he's sent you to take ma and the girls off my +hands--_you_ know--and make my mind easy?" + +They discussed those happenings which might reasonably be held to be +signs of Divine good intention, after which silence fell again. The +guards grunted or yawned; the cards were slapped on the table; the +tricks were pulled in with the scratching of paper against wood. An hour +went by; another hour, and then another. In spite of his efforts to make +himself hard, Teddy felt the tension. Having accidentally touched Bob's +hand, he grasped it with a clutch like a vise. He was still clutching it +when a messenger came to the door to say that the jury was about to +render their verdict and the prisoner must come back into court. + +Bob climbed the corkscrew first. A guard followed him, then Teddy, then +the other guard. It was after seven in the evening. The courtroom, +relatively empty, had a sickly look, under crude electric lighting. But +half of the spectators had come back, and only those officials and +lawyers who were obliged to be in their places. All the reporters were +there, watching for every shade in Teddy's face and seeing more than he +expressed. + +Bob managed to pass in front of the cage. + +"Remember, Teddy--hardness is the big word." + +"Sure thing!" Teddy whispered back. + +The jury filed in. The judge took his place. Teddy was ordered to stand +up. He stood very straight, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. In +all that met the eye he was a sturdy, stocky young man, pleasing to look +at, and with no suggestion of the criminal. His face was grave with a +gravity beyond that of death, but he showed no sign of nervousness. + +If anyone showed nervousness it was the foreman of the jury, a +good-natured fish dealer, with a drooping reddish mustache, who had +never expected to be in this situation. When asked if the jury had +arrived at a verdict his voice trembled as he answered: + +"We have." + +"What is your verdict?" + +"We find the accused guilty of murder." + +"Of murder in the first or the second degree?" + +"In the first." + +That was all. Bob wheeled round toward Teddy, who smiled courageously. + +"It's all right, Bob," he whispered, as their hands met over the rail of +the cage. "I've got the right line on it. It's my medicine, and I know +how to take it. Keep ma and the girls from worrying, and I can go +straight through with it." + +[Illustration: _"ALL RIGHT, MA! I'M READY!"_] + +It was all there was time for. They had not noticed that Stenhouse had +said something about appeal, and the judge something about sentence. +Everyone was leaving. Stenhouse came to shake hands with his client and +tell him that the game wasn't up yet. The boy thanked him. The cage was +unlocked, and once more Teddy, with a guard in front and a guard +following after him, went down the corkscrew stair. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +"What I don't understand, Bob," Collingham said, with faint indignation +in his tone, "is whether you're a married man or not." + +"I'm a married man, father, all right." + +"Then why don't you live like a married man? I suppose you know that +people are saying all sorts of things." + +Bob considered the simplest way in which to put his case. It was the +afternoon of the day following the end of Teddy's trial, and his father +was giving him a lift homeward from the bank. It being winter, dark was +already closing in, and though they were out of the city, great +arc-lights were still strung along the roadways, which were otherwise +lighted by flashes from hundreds of motor cars. + +"I've never said anything about this before," the father resumed, before +Bob had found the right words, "because we'd all agreed--your mother, +Edith, and myself--that we wouldn't hamper you with questions about it +while you were busy with something else. But now that that's over--" + +"Part of it is over, but only part of it. We've a long road to travel +yet." + +"If the appeal is denied, as I expect it will be, you'll have to let me +in on the application to the Governor for clemency. I think I'd have +some influence there." + +"Thanks, dad. That'll be a help." He asked, after further thinking, +"Should you like me to live as a married man--considering who it is I've +married?" + +Knowing that the question was a searching one, Bob found the reply much +what he expected. + +"I want to see the best thing come out of a mixed-up situation. I don't +deny that all these problems bother me; but we have them on our hands, +and so there's no more to be said. We've got to find the wise thing to +do, and do it. That's all I'm after." + +"That's all I'm after, myself, dad." + +"I don't admit any responsibility for all this muss," Collingham +declared, as if his son had accused him. "I don't care what anyone +thinks; my conscience is clear." + +"Of course, dad; of course!" + +"But since things have happened as they have, I'd like to make them as +easy as I can for everyone; and whatever money can do--" + +"Or recognition?" + +They came back to the original question. + +"Yes; recognition, too--as soon as we've anyone to recognize. What I +don't understand is all this backing and filling--" + +"Have you asked mother?" + +"In a way; and she's just as mysterious as you." + +Bob tried another avenue. + +"You saw Jennie yourself, didn't you?" + +"Once; yes." + +"What did you think of her?" + +"What any man would think of her. She was very charming and--and +appealing." + +"Did you think anything else?" + +The father turned sharply. + +"What makes you ask?" + +"Because it's possible you did." + +"Well, I did. What of it?" + +"Only this--that that's the thing I want to nail before I bring her to +you as my wife." + +"Then why don't you go to work and nail it?" + +He found the words he was in search of. + +"Partly because I've other things to do; partly because I feel that, by +giving it its time, it will nail itself; and, most of all, for the +reason that neither she nor I want to take the--the great happiness +which we feel is coming to us in the end while--while all this other +thing is in the air. I wonder if you understand me." + +"More or less." + +"It's as if we'd accidentally put the cart of marriage before the horse +of engagement. Do you see? Nominally we're married; but really we're +only engaged. We can't be married--we don't want to be married--till +other things are off our minds." + +With this bit of explanation, the Collinghams began to live once more as +if nothing had occurred. It was not easy; but by dint of skimming on the +surface they were able to manage it. That is to say, Bob came and went, +and they asked him no more questions, while on his part he continued to +nerve Teddy and his sisters for another test. + +If there was anyone noticeably different, it was Junia. Always quick to +tack according to the wind, she seemed almost to have changed her +course. In putting the best face on Edith's marriage and Bob's +complications she had adopted the new ideals that kept her in the +movement. + +"It's the war," she explained to her intimates. "We're all different. +Life as we used to live it begins to seem so empty. We weren't real; we +people who spent our time entertaining and being entertained. It's all +very well to say that we're much the same since the war as we were +before, but it isn't so. I know I'm not. I'm quite a revolutionist. I +may not have made much progress, but I'm certainly more in touch with +reality." + +With this transition, it became natural to speak of her son-in-law. + +"Such a wonderful fellow--all mind, you know, but the type that helps so +many of us to find our way through the mists of materialism and +selfishness out to the great big ends. To me, it's like a new life just +to hear him talk, and I can't help feeling it providential that he's +found a wife like Edith. She's an extraordinary girl to be my +child--intellectual and practical at once. She can keep her husband +company in all his researches and yet cook him a good dinner if their +little maid is out. Is there anything so astonishing in life as our own +children and what they turn out to be?" + +This was a transition, too, leading her to speak of Bob's affairs in the +tone of one who, though puzzled, takes them sympathetically. + +"And yet I think it's enlarging. Though we've kept only on the outer +edge of the drama through which Bob has been going with the girl he's +married, the whole thing has deepened his life so much that it couldn't +help deepening ours. It's broadened us, too, I think, giving us an +insight into lives so different from our own. That's what we need so +much, it seems to me, that kind of broadening. It's going to solve a lot +of our national problems which at present seem to be insoluble. Yes; Bob +is still at home with us, and I tell you frankly that I don't know what +is coming out of it. It's all so queer and independent and modern. I'm +old-fashioned, and I don't pretend to see through these young people's +ways. But I'm Bob's mother, and through all his developments--and he +_is_ developing--I'm going with him." + +So Junia talked, and talked so much that she was in danger of talking +herself round. The instinct to be in the front line of fashion had +something to do with it, but self-persuasion had more. The thing of the +hour being the throwing over of the old social code, Junia wouldn't have +been Junia if she hadn't done it; but, even so, the creeping-in of +compunction toward Bob took her by surprise. She had told herself +hitherto that she loved him so much that she would work for his +permanent happiness even at the cost of his temporary pain; but now she +began to fear that what had seemed to her his temporary pain might prove +the very life of his life. + +She came to this perception through reading in the newspapers the +accounts of the Follett boy's trial. By the tacit convention which the +Collinghams had established, that they had nothing to do with it, she +never spoke of it to Bradley or Edith, nor did they speak of it to her; +but she kept herself informed, and knew the devotion with which Bob gave +himself to Jennie and her family. The boy's condemnation hit her hard. +When Bradley came home that night, she saw that it had also hit him. + +"I'm worth about five million dollars at a guess," he confided to her, +"and I'd cheerfully have given four of them if this thing hadn't +happened." + +"But, Bradley dear, you had nothing to do with it." + +"I know I hadn't," he declared, savagely; "and yet I'd--I'd do as I +say." + +But it wasn't Bradley she was most sorry for; nor was it for the Follett +boy. She was sorry that, because of conditions which she herself had +fostered, Bob would never reap the fruit of a love in which he had been +so chivalrous. She didn't see how he could. Just as there was a natural +Bradley and a standardized one, so there was a natural and a +standardized Junia. The natural Junia had long seemed dead; but the +bigness of the love which she saw daily and hourly exemplified moved her +to the painful stirrings of new life. + +Meanwhile Bob went with Teddy up the remaining steps by which he mounted +his Calvary. + +He stood near the cage on the morning when the boy was brought up for +sentence, witnessing his coolness. On being asked if he had anything to +say before sentence was pronounced he replied: + +"Nothing, sir, except to thank you for giving me such a fair trial." + +The words were spoken in a firmer voice than those which followed: + +"The court, in consideration of your crime of murder in the first +degree, sentences you to the punishment of death by the passage of a +current of electricity through your body, within the week beginning...." + + ---- + +When the appeal for a new trial was denied, it was Bob who informed +Teddy. When all efforts to obtain Executive clemency had failed, it was +Bob again who broke the news. When the boy requested that his mother and +sisters should omit their next visit to Bitterwell--should wait till he +sent them word before coming again--it was Bob who conveyed the request. +Bitterwell, the great penitentiary, was twenty miles from Pemberton +Heights, and through the winter they had gone to see him some thirty-odd +times. They went in couples. Gladys and her mother, Jennie and Gussie, +keeping each other company. The visits were less difficult than might +have been expected because of Teddy's cheerfulness. + +Of the request to wait before coming again, they didn't at first seize +the significance. While frank with them about everything else, Bob had +never given them the date of the week the judge had named, nor had they +asked for it. If they did so ask, he meant to tell them; but they seemed +to divine his intention. + +Perhaps they divined the intention in this intimation from Teddy. At any +rate, they didn't question it, or rebel against it. It followed on +visits first of one pair and then of the other, both of which had been +so normal as almost to pass as gay. That is, Teddy's spirits had +infected theirs, and they had parted from him smiling. That of Jennie +and Gussie had been the first of the two, and he had sent them off with +a joke. + +"My boy, I'm proud of you," had been Lizzie's farewell words to him. +"Walk firmly, with your head erect, and never, never be sorry for +anything you've done." + +"Good old ma! The best ever! I sure am proud of _you_! What'll you bet +that we don't have some good times together yet?" + +A psychologist would have said that by suggestion and autosuggestion +they strengthened each other and themselves; but whatever the process, +the result was evident. Bob had given them the verb "to carry on," so +that "carrying on" became at once an objective and a driving force. +Gussie and Gladys went regularly to work; Jennie took care of the house +and her mother. The latter task had become the more imperative, for the +reason that, after Teddy's request that they should suspend their +visits, she began to fail. It was not that she was hurt by it, but +rather that she took it as a signal. + +In the efforts to be strong, they were helped by the fact that, not long +after Teddy's removal to Bitterwell, Edith Ayling had come to see them, +all of her own initiative. She had repeated the visit many times, and +had Gussie and Gladys go to see her at Cathedral Heights. Jennie had +never been able to leave home. + +"I didn't say anything about it to you," Edith explained to Bob, after +the occasion of her breaking the ice, "because I wanted to do it on my +own. Quite apart from you and Jennie, I feel that our lots have become +involved and that we Collinghams have some responsibility. I don't say +responsibility for what, because I don't know; and yet I feel--" Unable +to say what she felt, she elided to the personal. "Jennie I don't get +at. She's so silent--so shut away. The mother has never been well enough +to see me. But the two younger girls I'm really getting to know very +well and to be very fond of. They're intelligent down to the +finger-tips, and with a little guidance I'm sure they could do big +things." + +"What kind of things?" + +"I should train Gladys along intellectual lines, and Gussie was born for +the stage. I know that Ernest and I could help them, if you thought it +all right, and we should love doing it. You must read what he says in +his new book, _Salvage_, as to getting people into the tasks for which +they are fitted and in which they can be happy. He thinks that a lot of +our nonproductiveness comes from the people who'd love doing one thing +being compelled to do another, and that if we could only help the +individuals we come across to find their natural jobs...." + +It was Edith also who unconsciously helped her mother out of the trap in +which she had found herself caught. + +"Oh, by the way, whom do you think I met in the street the other day? No +less a person than Hubert Wray, just back from California. And that +reminds me. He told me you had bought his big picture that everyone was +talking about last year. Where is it? Why did you never say anything +about it?" + +Edith was spending a day in May at Collingham Lodge, and was walking +with her mother between rows of irises. + +"Come in," Junia said. "I'll show you. Then you'll understand." + +But not till "Life and Death" had been drawn from its hiding place and +propped against the wall was Edith allowed to enter her mother's room. +She advanced slowly, her eyes on the canvas. Junia waited for the shock. + +"So that's it," Edith said, at last. "It isn't a thing I should want to +live and die with--I never can understand that fancy people have for +nudes--but I see it's very fine." + +"And is that all you see?" + +"All I see? I see it has a meaning, of course, but--" + +Junia's throat felt dry. + +"Don't you--don't you recognize anybody?" + +"Who? The Brasshead woman? I shouldn't know her from Eve." + +Junia crept nearer. + +"'The Brasshead woman'? Who's she? What are you talking about?" + +"Why, the model who sat for it. Hubert told me all about her. He said +she wasn't his ideal for the part--rather a poor lot as a woman--but he +couldn't get anyone better." She added, on examining the features, "I +don't think she's bad, considering what he wanted." + +"Doesn't she--doesn't she remind you of--of Bob's wife?" + +"About as much as she does of you. Surely that's not the reason why you +hid the thing away!" + +"I--I did think--I was afraid--that people might see a resemblance--" + +Edith made an inarticulate sound intended for derision. + +"As a matter of fact, Hubert said it was probably a good thing for him +to be obliged to paint some one else than Jennie. He'd been painting her +so much that he was in danger of painting her into everything, like +Andrea del Sarto with his wife." + +"Then you--you don't think that he's painted her in here?" + +Edith looked again. + +"Well, if you put it that way--and you were crazy to find a +likeness--perhaps about the brows--and down here at the curve of the +cheek and neck--but no! Not really! This is a carnal woman, and Jennie's +a thing of the spirit." She dismissed the subject as of no further +importance. "Do tell me. Is there anyone in New York who reglazes these +English chintzes?" + +So Junia made new plans, waiting for Bob to come home to dinner in order +to meet him on the threshold, throw her arms about his neck, and give +him the glad facts. + +But Bob sent a telephone message that he would not be home to dinner, +that he would not be home that night. No one was to worry, and he would +turn up at breakfast in the morning. + +It was all the information he gave because, by special permission from +the warden, and under a solemn promise not to convey anything to the +prisoner that would enable him to cheat the law, he was spending the +night at Bitterwell. + +He was spending it in a low one-storied building some sixty feet long +and not more than twenty in width. Its arrangements were simple. On +entering, you came into a corridor some six feet wide, running the +length of seven little rooms. The seven little rooms were each furnished +with a cot, a fixed wash-basin, a table, and a chair. Each had, however, +this peculiarity--that the end toward the corridor had no wall. Instead +of a wall it had long, strong perpendicular white bars, some two or +three inches apart, and running from ceiling to floor. The inmate was +thus visible at all times, like an animal in a cage. In the corridor +were half a dozen chairs of the kitchen variety, and at the end a little +yellow door. + +The little yellow door led into a room of which the chief piece of +furniture was a chair vaguely suggestive of an armchair in a smoking +room, though with some singular attachments. Around it in a semicircle +were some eight or ten other chairs similar to those in the corridor. In +one corner was a walled-off space that might have housed a dynamo; in +the other a stack of brooms and mops. As a passageway gave access to +this room, and the yellow door was carefully kept closed, Bob was not +required to see within. + +Of the seven little rooms four were empty, and three had occupants. At +one end was a negro; at the other an Italian; Teddy was in the center. +Outside, there was a guard for the Italian, another for the negro, while +for Teddy there were two. They were big, husky fellows, three Irishmen +and a Swede, genial, good-natured souls to whom their duties had become +a matter of course. + +There was something of the matter of course in the whole situation, even +to Teddy and Bob. The human mind being ready to accept anything to which +it is led by steps sufficiently graded, both young men were attuned to +finding themselves as they were. As they were meant that Teddy clung to +one of the bars from within, and Bob to the same bar from without. They +talked through the open spaces, being able to do it quietly because they +were so close. + +"You don't think I'm afraid, do you, Bob? I should have been afraid if +it hadn't been for you. You've bucked me up something--well, there are +no words for it." + +"Let it go without words, Teddy. Don't try to say it." + +"I like to say it," he grinned. "Or, rather, I'd like to say it if I +could. I like trying to say it, even when I can't." + +That was all for the time; but after some minutes, Teddy's hand stole +over Bob's big paw as it held to the bar, so that they held to it +together. + +It was Bob who broke the silence next. + +"I didn't tell you, Teddy--I've only just found it out--that dad's been +taking care of Mrs. Flynn and her kiddies and means to go on doing it." + +"That's good," the boy sighed. "It takes about the last thing off my +mind." + +So they talked spasmodically, never saying much, and yet saying all the +things for which language has no words. At intervals the Italian showed +his sympathy by groaning heavily, which was generally a signal for the +negro to begin singing, in a cottony voice, the first verse of "Safe in +the Arms of Jesus." Teddy apologized for them as a host for unseemly +members of his household. + +"They're good guys, all right. That's just their way of letting me know +they feel for me. It's funny how kind hearted some mutt will be who's +committed a cold-blooded murder." + +He had probably been following this train of thought for some minutes +when he said, in a reasoning tone: + +"What can the law do with fellows of our sort? Look at the thing +straight now. We've got good in us, of course; but you can't trust us to +hold our horses. I don't blame them for what they're giving me--hardly +any. Only, I'll be darned if it doesn't make me surer that all this is +only an experiment--a way of finding out how not to do it--so that we +can make the next go a better one." + +They discussed this topic in a desultory way, not so much letting it +drop as pursuing it each in his own thought. Teddy picked up the line +again after an interval of time, and some distance farther on. + +"I suppose you can't believe that you come to a place where you know +you're through and are in a hurry to get on. Well, you do. I guess old +people like ma reach there, anyhow; and young people, too, when +they're--when they're like me. I've had my shot--and I've miffed it. Now +I'm all on edge to have another try. I'm so crazy about that that the +thing that's to happen first doesn't seem anything--very much." + +The hours wore on, but it seemed to Bob a night to which there was no +time. Though the support he brought to Teddy was merely that of +companionship, he felt that the boy was outstripping him. In Teddy's own +phrase, he was "moving on," but moving on very fast. Bob couldn't tell +how he knew this; he only felt himself being left behind. Teddy was +quite right; his old experiment _was_ over, and some of the exaltation +of the new one was already breaking through. That was the meaning of his +silences, his abstractions. That was why he came out of each such spell +with a smile that grew more luminous. + +The Italian and the negro fell asleep. The four guards talked less to +one another. Clutching the bar grew tiring. Brannigan, one of Teddy's +guards, brought up a chair, offering it to Bob. + +"Why don't you sit down? It'll be quite a while yet." + +Bob took the chair, Teddy the one inside the cell. Bringing it as close +to the bars as possible, he thrust his fingers through the opening to +touch Bob's hand. Bob closed the fingers within his palm, and so held +them. + +"I'm not going to send any message to ma and the girls. They know I love +them. You can't add anything to that." A sidelong smile stole through +the bars. "I love you too, Bob. I guess it's a bum thing to say, but +to-night--well, it's different--and I'm going to say it. I can't do +anything to thank you; but it may mean something to you to have me +loving you like the devil all the way from--from over there." + +"It means something to me now." + +"Then that's all right." + +The Italian breathed heavily. The negro snored. The guards were bored +and somnolent. Teddy might have been asleep except for the look and the +smile that every now and then crept through the bars toward his +companion. + +Suddenly he pulled his fingers from Bob's clasp, jumped to his feet, and +held out his arms. + +"All right, ma! I'm ready!" + +The cry was so loud and joyous that Bob sprang up. Brannigan lumbered +forward. + +"Been dreamin'," he explained. "Just as well if he has." + +Teddy looked about him in bewilderment. + +"No, I haven't been. I wasn't asleep. I was wide awake. I guess you'll +think I'm dippy, Bob; but I did see ma. 'Pon my soul I did! She was +right there." He pointed to the spot. "She looked lovely, too--young, +like--and yet it was ma all right. She wanted me to come. That's why I +jumped. Oh, well! Perhaps I _am_ dippy. But it's funny, isn't it?" + +He was so preoccupied with this happening as not to notice sounds in the +outer passage and beyond the yellow door. Even when he did, it was with +no more than a partial cognizance. + +"Listen!" he said once. "There they are. It'll be only a few minutes +now. I'm not going to let you go in there, Bob. Funny about ma, isn't +it?" + +The sounds grew louder. The guards were moving about. Behind the yellow +door people seemed to enter. There was the scraping of chairs as they +sat down. The Italian woke and howled dismally. The negro shouted his +hymn. Teddy was far away on the wings of speculation; but he came back +to say: + +"If ma had gone ahead of me, I know she'd like nothing better than to +come and give me a lift over. But she hasn't gone ahead of me. She's +over there in Indiana Avenue. That's the funny part of it. What do you +suppose it means?" + +Bob didn't know. Neither had he time to offer an opinion, because the +main door opened and the warden appeared, accompanied by the chaplain, +the doctor, the principal keeper, and three other men whom Teddy didn't +know. + +"Here they are!" Teddy whispered, as if their coming was a relief. + +The warden advanced to the central cell. The door was unlocked. Teddy +stood on the threshold. + +"Thank you, warden. I suppose I can say good-by to my friend?" + +Permission was given. Teddy stepped out into the corridor. + +"You'd better go now, Bob. No use in your staying any longer." He nodded +toward the men standing round him. "They'll handle me gently. I'm not +afraid." + +Their hands clasped; but the boy was only a boy, loving and in need of +love. Before Bob knew what was happening, Teddy's arms were about his +neck, in a long, desperate embrace. + +A gulp that was almost a sob from each--and it was over. + +"All right, boys. I'm ready. Go to it." + +The words were spoken steadily. Bob limped toward the door. A guard +unlocked it. + +"Say, Bob!" It was Teddy's voice again. Bob turned. The lad had taken +off his collar, no more conscious of the act than if he was going to +bed. One of the strange men was kneeling on one knee, making a +significant slit in a leg of Teddy's trousers. "Say, Bob! I wonder--if +it doesn't take you too far out of your way-if you'd mind driving round +by the house? You see, if anything has happened to ma, why, the girls'll +be all up in the air, poor things!" + +Bob nodded because he couldn't trust himself to words--and so it was the +end. + + ---- + +Out in the air it seemed to him as if he had dreamed and waked up. The +May night was so exquisite, so hallowing, that the walls of Bitterwell +were mellow and enchanted against the dome of stars. Even in these grim +courts the scent of growing things was sweet. + +Driving in the deadest hours of night over the long flat road, he was +too tired to think. His imagination didn't try to follow Teddy, because +it had become an instinct to spring to the need to "carry on." Teddy was +behind him. There were other things in front; and his mind was already +with them. + +And yet not actively. After he had slept he would be able to take them +up; but just now his main desire was to get home to bed. Nothing but +that would dispel this overweight of emotion. + +Along the familiar road he drove mechanically. Even Teddy's last +request, though it formed an intention, was hardly in his mind. At +Bond's Corner, where the roads forked, to the right to Pemberton +Heights, to the left to the bridge that would take him over toward +Marillo, he was so nearly asleep that he might have gone straight on +homeward had he not been startled by seeing a man and a woman standing +in the middle of the road. + +He jammed down the service and emergency brakes, swinging to the right. +The fact that they stood facing him without getting out of his way both +amazed him and rendered him indignant. Turning to look at so strange a +pair of pedestrians, he saw--Teddy and his mother. + +They were not quite on the road, but a little above it. Neither were +they in the dark like other things around, but shining with a light of +their own. Neither were they shadowy apparitions, but definite, vital, +forcible. They were dressed as he had generally seen them, and yet they +wore a kind of radiance. The mother's arm was over her boy's shoulder, +but Teddy was waving his hand. Smiles were on both faces, on the lips, +in the eyes, and somehow in the personality. + +Bob was not frightened, but he was thrilled. It seemed to him that they +stayed long enough to overcome all the doubts of his senses. Though he +pressed on the brakes, the car went a number of yards before he could +bring it to a standstill; and yet they never left his side. They didn't +exactly move; they were only there--living, lovely, sending out love as +if it had been light, wrapping him round and round. It was so vivid, so +much a fact, that when the car stopped and he saw no one there, he was +amazed once more to find himself alone. + +He couldn't drive on at once. He lingered--staring at the spot where +they had stood, looking over the wide, dim country, gazing up at the +stars in their yearning infinitude. He tried to persuade himself that +his own mind had projected something unreal in itself; but he couldn't +throw off the extraordinary happiness the vision left behind it. + +Before reaching Indiana Avenue he had decided on a course. If there were +no lights in the house, he would drive on homeward. If there were he +would stop. At this hour in the very early morning, unless something +unusual had happened, there would of course be none. + +But there were lights. At sound of his approach, Pansy gave a little +silvery yelp. Jennie opened the door before he had time to ring. + +"Come in, Bob. I saw your car from the window." + +In the living-room Gussie and Gladys, wearing their dressing-gowns, +cried out their relief at seeing him. It was the situation Teddy had +foreseen, in which they were all "up in the air." As usual, Gladys was +the spokesman. + +"Oh, Bob, we're so glad to have you. We didn't know what to do. Momma--" + +A sob stopped her, but Jennie was more calm. + +"Momma's gone, Bob. Gussie went into her room about half past ten to +take her the glass of milk we always put by her bed, and she was +asleep." + +They gathered round him as if he formed their rallying point. He took +Jennie and Gussie each by the hand. Gladys held his coat by the lapel. + +"You're not sorry, any of you, are you? She wanted to go; and she's gone +in the sweetest of all ways." + +"She won't have to hear about Teddy," Gussie wept. "That's a comfort, +anyhow." + +Gladys laid her head against Bob's breast. + +"No; but Teddy'll have to hear about her." + +Bob saw the opportunity. "No, Gladys; Teddy will not have to hear about +her." He let this sink in. "Teddy--_knows_." + +It was some seconds before Jennie and Gussie released his hands and +Gladys let go his lapel. When they did they moved away silently. Gussie +dropped on her knees at the arm of a big chair, bowing her head, and +crying quietly. Jennie, a slim figure with hands behind her back, walked +down the length of the room, staring at the curtained window toward +Indiana Avenue. Gladys stood off, looking at Bob, nodding her head +sagely, as she said: + +"I thought that's what it meant when he didn't want us to come. He liked +it better without saying good-by. So we all do." She gave a big, sudden +sob, controlling herself as suddenly. "We're going to carry on, Bob. +We're not going to show the white feather"--there was another big sob, +with another successful effort to keep it back--"we're not going to show +the white feather--any of us--just to please you." + +"Thank you, Gladys. It will please me. But there's something that +pleases me more. I'd like to tell all three of you about it." + +Jennie turned round from the window, coming back down the room. She was +pale, but she didn't cry. Gussie dried her eyes and was struggling to +her feet when Bob laid his hand on her shoulder. + +"No, Gussie; stay where you are. I'll sit down here." He dropped into +the chair. "You come on this side, Jennie. Gladys--" + +But Gladys had already crouched at his feet, while Jennie, balancing +Gussie, sank beside the other arm of the chair. Pansy sprang up to her +place on his knee. + +He told them about Teddy and his mother--about Teddy's vision and his +own. + +"I don't say I know what to make of it. I'm not at all sure that we're +obliged to explain that sort of thing unless we're scientists or +psychologists. It seems to me that when beauty and comfort flash on us +at a time of great need, we're at liberty to take them for what they +seem to be, even if we don't understand them." + +As his hand lay on the arm of the chair, Jennie kissed it again and +again. It was the first spontaneous affection she had ever shown him, +and, though it moved him with a stirring strange and fundamental, he +felt that with the awesome things so fresh in their minds, the time had +not yet come to respond to it. It was one more impulse to gather force +by being restrained a little longer. + +"It isn't as if this thing stood alone. A great many people have had +experiences like it. They may be no more than fancy, just as some people +say; but I do know this: that by what he saw Teddy was helped to do what +he had to do, and that for me--" + +"Yes, Bob," Gladys pleaded. "What was it for you?" + +"Something real--and assuring--and beautiful--and comforting--and +glorious." He uttered the words slowly, as if selecting his terms. "More +than that," he went on, "it was something that's given me a happiness I +can't describe but which I should like to share with you--which perhaps +I shall be able to share with you--as we get to know one another +better--and time goes on." + +The little snub-nosed face, something like Pansy's, was lifted to him +adoringly. + +"Are we going to be your very own, Bob?" + +"Yes, Gladys, my very own." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +"How can we be your very own when--you don't know anything about _me_?" + +Gussie and Gladys had gone up to get some sleep. Jennie was crouched, +not against the arm of the chair, as before, but against Bob's knee. +Still pressing back the instincts of his passion, he did no more than +let his hand rest lightly on her hair. + +"I know this much about you, Jennie--that after all we've gone through +we're welded together. Nothing can separate us now--no past--nor +anything you could tell me." + +"Is that why you don't want to know?" + +"I don't want to know _now_. That's all I'm saying. Things are settled +for us. They're settled and sealed. It's what we get out of so much +that's terrible, that we don't have to debate that point any more. We +may have to adapt ourselves to conditions we don't know anything about +as yet--but it will be a matter of adapting, not of cutting loose. What +should I be if I were to cut loose from you and the girls now, Jennie? +What should you be if you were to cut loose from me?" + +She pressed her cheek against his knee. + +"We'd die," she said, simply. + +"So there you are! I know what you mean. I'd die, too. That is, we +mightn't die outwardly; but something would be so killed in us that we'd +never be really alive again. So why try to pull apart what life has +soldered into one?" + +"But you don't _know_!" + +"Yes, I do. I know more than you think. I know that the things that +trouble you are dreams and that our life together is reality. You'll +tell me the dreams as we go on--a little at a time--and I'll show you +that you've waked from them. I know there are things to explain; but I +know, too, that there's an explanation. But I don't want the explanation +yet. I'm--I'm too tired, Jennie. I want to rest. And I can't rest unless +we all rest together--you with me--and the girls with us--in a kind of +quiet acceptance of the things that have happened--and in the--I hardly +know how to express it--but in the tranquillity of love. I wonder if you +understand me?" + +She murmured: + +"I don't know that I understand you, Bob--quite--but I do--I do love +you. It's--it's different from love--it's--it's more. It's like--like +melting into you--" + +"That's love, Jennie. It isn't anything different. It's just--_love_." + +"But you're so big--" + +"And you're so little--so wee. Don't you see?--that's it! That's the +compensating thing in nature. It's because we're different that we need +each other and complete each other. I can't explain it as you'd explain +a sum in arithmetic. I only _know_. You complete me, Jennie. As I've +said so often, you're the other half of me--" + +"And you're all of me--and more." + +"Then since we know that, why not do as I said--just rest awhile? We've +come up to our next ledge, as I was trying to explain to you a few +months ago; I know we can camp here a bit; and if we've had some +scratches in the climb we can talk of them by and by. We've learned the +one big thing we needed to know--that we belong together, that we can't +be torn apart. Just for now, why can't that be enough for us?" + +"It will be enough if you will let me tell you that--that what I've said +about Hubert wasn't--wasn't as bad as perhaps you think. I don't say it +mightn't have been; it was as bad as that in--in intention; but the +magic cloak of your love which you used to write about seemed to hang +round me--that's the only way I can put it--" + +"That'll do, Jennie. Don't try to say any more now. It's only what--in +some way--I can't tell you how--I know already." + +He knew she was crying, but he let her cry. He would have cried himself, +only that, since the vision at Bond's Corner, he felt this extraordinary +happiness. While his reason would have striven to accept the +psychologist's explanation his inner self was convinced of Teddy's +delight in beginning his next experiment. He himself was tired, but at +peace--tired, but no longer with a need of sleep--only with the need of +being quiet with a sense of fulfillment. + +There were tears in her voice as she whispered, brokenly: + +"Is it wrong, Bob, to feel so--so comforted--when momma is lying +upstairs--and darling Teddy is--" + +"We can't choose the way by which comfort comes to us, Jennie darling. +Things happen which we don't want to have happen, and yet they _can_ +work together for good if we only give them half a chance--" + +He was interrupted by the loud, sweet thrilling of a thrush. Jennie +raised her head in surprise, looking at the pallid shimmer through the +curtained window. + +"It's day!" + +They were both on their feet. + +"Yes, Jennie; it's day--again. Let's go out." + +They went as they were, bareheaded like children, into the purity of +morning. Pansy, disturbed by the many strange auras in the house, +scampered ahead of them, relieved by the escape. The street was still +asleep, empty, clean, with every lawn patch and garden bed drenched with +dew. Only the birds and the flowers were waking to the light. + +Turning toward the cliffs and the river, their talk became more +practical. Bob suggested to Jennie what his father had suggested to him. +Mr. Huntley was going to Europe in connection with some new European +loan. The proposal was that Bob should go with him. The trip might last +six months. + +"And if I go," he added, "we both go. We should have a few weeks to +settle things finally here--" + +"Oh, but, Bob--how could I go and--and leave the two girls? They need me +more than ever now. I'm not only their sister, but their mother." + +"Why shouldn't they come with us? I'd love having them. Six months over +there would make a break with what they've been through here; and when +we come back, Edith has things she's going to suggest--" + +"That would be heavenly, Bob; but--but the money?" + +"The money's all right. In my new job at the bank I've a bigger +salary--five thousand; and now that dad's giving Edith ten thousand a +year as allowance, he's giving me the same. That's a pretty good income +to begin with, besides which, dad--you'll have to know dad, Jennie--he +doesn't want me to spare any money while we're--we're passing through +this--this crisis." + +"And your mother's lovely. I know _that_." + +"Yes; mother's splendid, too. So's Edith. You'll find that they all +want--want to make up to you--and to the girls--for--" + +But he didn't say for what because they came to where they saw above the +cloud-wrapt city the glory of chrysoprase, turquoise, and topaz which +precedes the sunrise and takes the breath away. + +"Oh, look!" + +"Oh, look!" + +Instinctively they clasped hands as they stood on the edge of the +flowery precipice, watching the chrysoprase yellow into saffron, and the +turquoise melt into sapphire, while the topaz became light. + +Then silently, above the wraithlike towers and cubes and battlements, +slipped the rim of gold. + +"There it is, Bob!" + +He drew her to him, holding her close. + +"Yes; there it is again, Jennie--always coming back to us! The last time +we were here we had only the moonrise; and now it is the sun--the sun!" + +Her head lay against his shoulder; and as the rim became an orb the +cloud-built vision of Manhattan was touched with flecks of fire. Within +its heart lay Broadway, Fifth Avenue, Wall Street, and the Bowery, +shops, churches, brothels, and banks, all passions, hungers, yearnings, +and ambitions, all national impulses worthy and detestable, all human +instincts holy and unclean, all loveliness, all lust, all charity, all +cupidity, all secret and suppressed desire, all shameless exposure on +the housetops, all sorrow, all sin, all that the soul of man conceives +of as evil and good--and yet, with no more than these few miles of +perspective, and this easy play of light, translated into beauty, +uplifting, unearthly, and ineffable. + + + + THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Empty Sack + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPTY SACK *** + +***** This file should be named 37412.txt or 37412.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/4/1/37412/ + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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