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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sins of the Children, by Cosmo Hamilton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Sins of the Children
+       A Novel
+
+Author: Cosmo Hamilton
+
+Illustrator: George O. Baker
+
+Release Date: October 7, 2011 [EBook #37664]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SINS OF THE CHILDREN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank, Matthew Wheaton and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SINS OF THE CHILDREN
+
+
+    [Illustration: And over them both ... hung the moon and stars.]
+
+
+
+
+    THE SINS OF THE CHILDREN
+
+    _A NOVEL_
+
+    BY
+    COSMO HAMILTON
+
+
+    WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
+    GEORGE O. BAKER
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    BOSTON
+    LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
+    1916
+
+
+    _Copyright, 1916_,
+    BY COSMO HAMILTON.
+
+    _All rights reserved_
+
+
+    Published, October, 1916
+
+
+    THE COLONIAL PRESS
+    C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.
+
+
+    To
+
+    MY WIFE
+
+
+
+
+    CONTENTS
+
+
+    PART ONE--YOUTH
+
+    PART TWO--THE CITY
+
+    PART THREE--LIFE
+
+
+
+
+PART ONE
+
+YOUTH
+
+
+THE SINS OF THE CHILDREN
+
+
+I
+
+When Peter Guthrie laughed the rooks stirred on the old trees behind the
+Bodleian and the bored cab-drivers who lolled in uncomfortable attitudes
+on their cabs in St. Giles perked up their heads.
+
+He threw open his door one morning and leaving one of these laughs of
+his rolling round the quad of St. John's College found the recumbent
+form of Nicholas Kenyon all among his cushions as usual, and as usual
+smoking his cigarettes and reading his magazines. The words "as usual"
+seemed to be stamped on his forehead.
+
+"What d'you think?" cried Peter, filling the room like a thirty-mile
+gale.
+
+"You ought to know that I don't think. It's a form of exercise that I
+never indulge in." Kenyon lit a fresh cigarette from the one which he
+had half-smoked and with peculiar expertness flicked the end out of the
+window into St. Giles Street, which ran past the great gates of the
+college. He hoped that it might have fallen on somebody's head, but he
+didn't get up to see.
+
+"Well," said Peter, "I was coming down the High just now and an awful
+pretty girl passed with a Univ. man. She looked at me--thereby very
+nearly laying me flat on my face--and I heard her ask, 'Who's that?' It
+was the man's answer that makes me laugh. He said: 'Oh, he's only a
+Rhodes scholar!'" And off he went again.
+
+Nicholas Kenyon raised his immaculate person a few inches and looked
+round at his friend. The Harvard man, with his six-foot-one of excellent
+muscles and sinews, his square shoulders and deep chest, and his fine,
+honest, alert and healthy face, made most people ask who he was. "If I'd
+been you," said Kenyon, "I should have made a mental note of that Univ.
+blighter in order to land him one the next time you saw him, that he
+wouldn't easily forget."
+
+"Why? I liked it, from a man of his type. I've been 'only a damned
+Rhodes scholar' to all the little pussy purr-purrs ever since I first
+walked the High in my American-made clothes. I owe that fellow no
+grudge; and if I meet that girl again--which I shall make a point of
+doing--I bet you anything you like that his scoffing remark will lend a
+touch of romance to me which will be worth a lot."
+
+"Was she something out of the ordinary?"
+
+"Quite," said Peter.
+
+He hung his straw hat on the electric bulb, threw off his coat, rolled
+up his sleeves and started to tidy up his rooms with more energy and
+deftness than is possessed by the average housemaid. He flicked the
+little pile of cigarette ash, which Kenyon had dropped on the floor,
+into a corner. He gathered the weekly illustrated papers which Kenyon
+had flung aside and put them on a back shelf, and then he picked up the
+man Kenyon in his arms, deposited him in a wide arm-chair in front of
+the fireplace and started punching all the cushions.
+
+Kenyon looked ineffably bored. "Good God!" he said. "What's all this
+energy? You shatter my nervous system."
+
+"My dear chap," said Peter, "you seem to forget that this is Commem. and
+that my people have come three thousand miles to see their little Peter
+in his little rooms. I'm therefore polishing up the knocker of the big
+front door. My mother has a tidy mind and I want my father to gain the
+impression that I'm methodical and responsible. He has a quick eye. They
+wired me from London last night to say that they'll be here at five
+o'clock to tea. I dashed round to the Randolph early this morning to
+book rooms for them. Gee, it's a big party, too! I can't make out why
+they want so many rooms. It'll be like my sister to have brought over
+one of her school friends. I guess I shall be darned glad to see them,
+anyway."
+
+There was a touch of excitement in the boy's voice, and his sun-tanned,
+excellent face showed the delight that he felt. He had not seen his
+mother, brother and sister for two years, having spent his vacations in
+England.
+
+Nicholas Kenyon got up slowly. He did everything slowly. "Well," he
+said, "I thank God that my people don't bother me on these festive
+occasions. To my way of thinking the influx of fathers and mothers into
+Oxford makes the whole place provincial. However, I can understand your
+childish glee. You are pretty badly dipped, I understand, and with the
+true psychology of the rasping undergraduate you are first going to
+throw the glamour of the city of spires over your untravelled parent and
+then touch him for a fairly considerable cheque."
+
+Peter gave a sort of laugh. "Touch my father!" he said. "Not much. I
+shall put my case up to my mother. She's the one who does these little
+things."
+
+Kenyon was faintly interested. Being perennially impecunious himself and
+unable to raise money even from the loan sharks, he looked to the advent
+of Peter's parents to bring him at least fifty pounds. He always
+borrowed from Peter.
+
+"Oh, I see," he said. "It's the old lady who carries the money-bags, is
+it?"
+
+"No, it isn't," said Peter; "but as a matter of fact I never have gone
+to my father for anything and I don't think I ever shall. I don't know
+why it is, but none of us have ever been able to screw up courage to say
+more than 'Good-morning' and 'Good-night' to the Governor, although of
+course we all think he is a very wonderful person."
+
+Kenyon yawned. "I see," he said. "Bad luck. I should hate to have such a
+disagreeable devil for a father--one of the martinet type, who says
+_don't_ all the time when he ought to say _do_, and makes home a sort of
+pocket-hell for everybody."
+
+Peter twisted round and spoke quickly and rather warmly. "So should I,"
+he said, "but luckily I haven't. I didn't want to suggest that my father
+was that type of man. He's one of the very best--one of the men who
+count for something in my country. He's worked like a dog to give us a
+chance in life and his generosity makes me personally sometimes feel
+almost indecent. I mean that I feel that I have taken advantage of
+him,--but--but, somehow or other,--oh, I don't know,--we don't seem to
+know each other--that's all. He hasn't the knack of winning our
+confidence--or something. So it comes to this: when we want anything we
+ask mother and she gets it for us. That's all there's to it. And look
+here, Nick, I want you to be frightfully nice to the Governor. Get out
+of your ice-box and warm up to the old man. I can't, you see; but as he
+has come all this way to look me up I want somebody to show some
+appreciation."
+
+With his eyes to the small relief which the visit of Dr. Hunter Guthrie,
+of New York City, might bring him, Nicholas Kenyon nodded. "Rely on me,"
+he said. "Butter shan't melt in my mouth; and before your father leaves
+Oxford I'll make him feel that he's been created a Baronet and appointed
+Physician in Ordinary to His Majesty the King. Well, so long, Peter! I'm
+lunching with Lascelles at the House this morning. I'll drop in to tea
+and hand cakes round to your beloved family."
+
+"Right-o," said Peter. "That'll be great!" And when the door closed and
+he found himself alone he arranged a certain number of silver cups which
+he had won in athletics all along his mantel-piece, for his father to
+see, gazed at them for a moment with a half-smile of rather
+self-conscious pride, finished tidying his room, gazed affectionately
+for a few moments at the familiar sight of Pusey House through the
+leaf-crowded trees that lined the sunny street, and then sat down to his
+piano and played a rag-time with all that perfect excellence and sense
+of rhythm which had opened the most insular doors to him during his
+first days as a fresher.
+
+
+II
+
+This fine big fellow, Peter Murray Guthrie, who had done immensely well
+at Harvard in athletics and was by no means a fool intellectually, could
+afford to be amused at the fact that he had been scoffingly referred to
+as "only a Rhodes scholar." He had been born under a lucky star and he
+had that wonderful gymnastic faculty of always falling on his feet. If
+with all his suspicions aroused he had gone up to Oxford in the same
+rather timid, self-conscious, on-the-defensive manner of the average
+Rhodes scholar who expected to be treated as a creature quite different
+from the English undergraduate, he would have found his way to the
+American Club and stayed there more or less permanently, taking very
+little part in the glorious multitudinous life of the freshmen of his
+college, and remained a sort of pariah of his own making. Freshmen
+themselves, the Lord knows, are forlorn enough. Everything is strange to
+them, too,--society, rules, customs, unwritten laws and faces. They are
+solitary creatures in the midst of a bustling crowd. If they do not come
+from one of the great public schools and meet again the men they knew
+there their chance of making friends is small and for many dull
+disappointing weeks they must mope and look-on and envy and find their
+feet alone, suffering, poor devils, from a hideous sheepishness and
+wondering, with a sort of morbid self-consciousness, what others are
+thinking of them. But Peter was unafraid. He stalked into Oxford
+prepared to find it the finest place on earth--with his imagination
+stirred at the sight of those old colleges whose quadrangles echoed with
+the feet of the great dead and rang with those of the younger generation
+to whom life was a great adventure and who might spring from those old
+stones into everlasting fame. He strode through the gate of St. John's
+with his chin high, prepared to serve her with all his strength and all
+the best of his youth and leave her finally unsullied by his name. He
+didn't give a single whoop for all this talk about the snobbishness and
+insularity of English undergraduates. He didn't believe that he would
+find a college divided and sub-divided into sets; and if the statement
+proved to be true--well, he intended to break all the barriers down.
+
+Therefore, with such a spirit added to his fine frank, manly
+personality, irresistible laugh, great big friendly hand and the rumours
+that came with him of his bull-like rushes on the football field, he
+became at once a marked man. Second-year and even third-year men nudged
+each other when he passed. "By Jove!" they said. "That's a useful
+looking cove! We must get him down to the river." Or, "I wonder if that
+American can be taught to play cricket?" As for the freshers--all as
+frightened as a lot of rabbits far away from their warren--they gazed
+with shy admiration and respect at Peter, who, expecting no rebuffs,
+received none.
+
+Finding that he could not live in college until he was a second-year
+man, Peter had looked about him among the freshers for a likely person
+with whom to share rooms. He had come up in the train with Nicholas
+Kenyon, whose shell he had insisted upon opening. He, too, was entered
+at St. John's and was very ready--being impecunious--to share lodgings
+with the American whose allowance he might share and whose personality
+was distinctly unusual. These two then gravitated to Beaumont Street,
+captured a large sitting-room and two bed-rooms on the ground floor, and
+from the first evening of their arrival were perfectly at home. Peter at
+once hired a piano from a music shop in the High which he quickly
+discovered, bought several bottles of whiskey and a thousand cigarettes,
+besides several pounds of pipe tobacco, threw open his window, and as
+soon as dinner was over started playing rag-times.
+
+Kenyon had been interested and amused. He had not expected to find
+himself "herding," as he put it, with a damned Rhodes scholar. He took
+it for granted that these "foreigners" would live apart from the
+ordinary undergraduate, as uncouth people should. He had been quick to
+notice, however,--psychology being his principal stock in trade,--that
+Peter had made an instant impression; and as he sat on the window-sill
+listening with what he had to confess to himself was keen pleasure to
+Peter's masterly manipulation of the piano and saw all the windows
+within near range of their house open and heads poke out to listen, he
+was able--without any propheticism--to say that Peter would quickly be
+the centre of a set. He would certainly not be sulking in the American
+Club.
+
+Very quickly P. M. Guthrie, of St. John's, became "Peter" to the whole
+college--and stroke in the freshers' boat. The other Rhodes scholars
+owed everything that was good to him. He stood by them loyally, made his
+rooms their headquarters, and all who wanted to know him were obliged to
+know them. He introduced swipes at the first freshers' concert in the
+Hall, with enormous success, selecting Forbes Nicholl, of Brasenose;
+Watson Frick, of Wadham; Baldwin Colgate, of Worcester; and Madison
+Smith, of Merton, all good Americans, for the purpose. Even Dons stayed
+to listen on that epoch-making occasion and the fame of their curious
+and delightful method of singing spread all over the university. It was
+easy. There was nothing else like it.
+
+Quite unconsciously Peter was for a little while the whole topic of
+conversation at Dons' dinners. These hide-bound professors were really
+quite surprised at the remarkable way in which, at one fell swoop, this
+man Peter Guthrie had managed to weld together the English and American
+undergraduates for the first time in their knowledge. Some of them put
+it all down to his piano playing--and were very nearly right. Others
+conceived his great laugh to be mainly responsible--and were not far
+short of the mark. But it was Nicholas Kenyon, the psychologist, who put
+his finger on the whole truth of this swift and unbelievable success. He
+said that it was Peter's humanity which had conquered Oxford, and in so
+doing proved--impecunious only son of an absolutely broke peer as he
+was--that he would be able to make a very fair living in the future on
+his wits. It may be said that he never intended to work.
+
+It was part of Peter's honesty and simplicity to remain American. He
+made no effort to ape the Oxford manner of speech. He would see himself
+shot before he got into the rather effeminate clothes affected by the
+Oxford man. He continued to be natural, to remain himself, and not to
+take on the colors chameleon-wise of those about him. His Stetson hat
+was the standing joke of St. John's. Nevertheless, there was not one man
+in the college who would not have hit hard if any derogatory remarks had
+been thrown at the head inside it. His padded shoulders, upholstered
+ties and narrow belt were all frequently caricatured, but the sound of
+Peter's laugh gathered men together like the music of the Pied Piper of
+Hamelin. It was just that this man Peter Guthrie was a _man_ that made
+him not only accepted in a place seething with quaint and foolish
+habits, out-of-date shibboleths and curious unwritten laws, but loved
+and respected. Here was one to whom merely to live was a joy. To the
+despondent he came therefore as a tonic. He exuded breeziness filled
+with ozone. His continuous high spirits infected even those foolish
+boys who were encrusted with affectation and stuccoed with the petty
+side and insolence of Eton. He worked hard and played hard and slept
+like a dog, ate hearty and drank like a thirsty plant. Also he smoked
+like a factory chimney. He had no crankish views--no tolerance for
+"isms," and was not ashamed to stride into chapel and say his prayers
+like a simple boy. In short, "unashamed" was his watchword, and he had
+been endowed with the rare gift of saying "No," and sticking to it. And
+to Nicholas Kenyon, who frequented the rooms of the so-called
+intellectuals--those "little dreadful clever people" who parroted and
+perverted other men's thoughts and possessed no originality of their
+own--it was a stroke of genius on Peter's part to have nothing but the
+photographs of his family all over his rooms. He must be a big man,
+Nicholas said to himself, who could afford, among the very young, to
+dispense with the female form divine in his frames--the nudes so
+generally placed in them--in order to convey the impression of being
+devilish wise and bad. Also it showed, according to this human merchant,
+a peculiar strength of character on Peter's part to bolt his door
+regularly one evening a week so that he might sit down uninterrupted and
+write a tremendous screed to his mother. However, that was Peter the
+man-boy--Peter the Rhodes scholar--Peter the Oxford man--who always
+wound up his musical evenings with the "Star Spangled Banner." And there
+was just one other side to this big, simple fellow's character which
+puzzled and annoyed the bloodless, clever parasite who lived with him
+and upon him,--women.
+
+Now, Nicholas Kenyon--the Honourable Nicholas Augustus Fitzhugh
+Kenyon--was a patron of the drama. That is to say, he had the right
+somehow to enter the stage door of the Theatre Royal at all times, and
+did so whenever the theatre was visited by a musical comedy company. He
+was known to innumerable chorus girls as "Boy-dear," and made a point of
+entertaining them at luncheon and supper during their visits to the
+university town. He brought choice specimens of this breed to Beaumont
+Street for tea and tittle-tattle and introduced them to Peter, who liked
+them very much and would have staked his life upon their being angels.
+But when it came to driving out to small unnoticeable inns, Peter
+squared his shoulders and stayed at home.
+
+"The devil take it!" said Nicholas one night, with frightful frankness
+which was devoid of any intentional insolence. "What's this cursed
+provincialism that hangs to you? I suppose it comes from the fact that
+you were born in a shack to the tinkle of the trolley-car!"
+
+Peter's howl of laughter made the piano play an immaculate tune.
+"Wrong," he said. "Gee! but you're absolutely wrong. The whole thing
+comes to this, Nick: One of these fine days I'm going to be married. The
+girl I marry is going to be clean. I believe in fairness. _I'm_ going to
+be clean. That's all there is to it."
+
+So that, one way and another, Dr. Hunter G. Guthrie, of New York, as
+well as St. John's College, Oxford, had several reasons to be rather
+proud of this man Peter.
+
+
+III
+
+One o'clock that afternoon found Peter still hammering on his piano, not
+only to the intense delight of three snub-nosed tradesmen's boys who
+delayed delivery of mutton-chops and soles, which were only plaice, but
+also of five people who had come quietly into the room. They stood
+together watching and listening and waiting for him suddenly to discover
+that he was not alone. One was a tall, rather angular, clean-shaven,
+noticeably intellectual man whose thin hair was grey and who wore very
+large glasses with tortoise-shell frames, through which he looked with
+pale, short-sighted eyes. He held a grey hat in his thin hand and stood
+watching the boy--who made his piano do the work of a full band--with a
+smile of infinite pride on his lips. Another was a little lady, all soft
+and sweet, with a bird-like face and a curious bird-like appearance. All
+about her there was a sort of perennial youthfulness, and the goodness
+of her kind heart gleamed so openly in her eyes that they asked beggars
+and cripples, itinerant musicians, ragamuffins, street dogs and all
+humbugs to come and be helped. At that moment they were full of tears,
+although little lines of laughter were all about them. Another was a
+slight, exceedingly good-looking young man whose hair went into a series
+of small waves and was brushed away from his forehead. He was grinning
+like a Cheshire cat and showing two rows of teeth which would make a
+dentist both envious and annoyed. There was a slight air of precocity
+about his clothes. Two girls made up the rest of the party. Both were
+young and slim and of average height. Both were unmistakably American in
+their fearless independence and cleanness of cut. One was dark, with
+almost black eyebrows which just failed to meet in the middle. Her eyes
+were amazing and as full of danger as a maxim,--large and blue--the most
+astonishing blueness. They were framed with long, thick, black lashes.
+Her lips were rather full and red, and her skin white. She might have
+been an Italian or a Spaniard. The other girl was blonde and slim, with
+large grey eyes set widely apart, a small patrician nose and a lovely
+little mouth turning up at the corners.
+
+How long all these people would have stayed watching and listening no
+man can say. Suddenly, in the middle of a bar, Peter sprang up and
+turned round. His cry of joy and the way in which he plunged forward and
+picked up the little bird-like woman in his arms was very good to see.
+
+"Mother!" he cried. "Mother! Oh, Gee! This is great!" and he kissed her
+cheeks and her hands, and then her cheeks again, all the while making
+strange, small, fond noises like a little boy who comes back home after
+the holidays.
+
+"Oh, dear, dear Peter!" said the little woman, between tears and
+laughter. "How splendidly rough you are! You shake me to pieces! Where
+_shall_ I be able to tidy my hair?"
+
+Then, with a rather constrained air and a touch of nervous cordiality,
+Peter turned to his father and took his hand. "How are you, father?" he
+asked. "You look fine."
+
+Dr. Hunter Guthrie swallowed something and gave a murmur which remained
+incoherent. Before he could pull himself together, Peter was hugging his
+sister, who squealed like a pig from the tightness of this man's mighty
+grasp. And then the brother came in for it and winced with pain and
+pleasure as his hand was taken in a vise-like grip.
+
+"Hello, Graham!"
+
+"Hello, Peter!"
+
+And then everybody except Peter burst out laughing. He stood in front of
+the fair girl, with his mouth wide open, and held out his hand and said:
+"I was going to hunt the whole place for you,--I beg your pardon." It
+was when he drew back, with his face and neck the color of a beet root,
+that the laughter reached its climax.
+
+Belle Guthrie was the first to find her voice. "Well, Peter," she said,
+"that's going some. Is an introduction superfluous in Oxford? Where did
+you meet Betty Townsend?"
+
+"I haven't met her," said Peter. "I saw her this morning in the High for
+a second--" He ran his finger round his collar and moved from one foot
+to the other and shifted his great shoulders. No man on this earth had
+ever looked so uncomfortable.
+
+And then, with consummate coolness, Betty Townsend came to the rescue.
+"Just after we arrived this morning," she said, "and you were all buying
+picture post-cards, I passed Mr. Guthrie when I was walking along the
+High Street with Graham's friend. I recognized him from the photographs
+that you have at home, and I think he must have heard me ask, 'Who's
+that?' I naturally gave him a friendly look. That's all."
+
+"I didn't catch the friendly look," said Peter. But he did catch the
+friendly tone and stored it up among his treasures. Then he suddenly
+stirred himself, being host, picked up his mother and placed her on his
+elaborate sofa; gave his best arm-chair to his father; waved his sister
+into the window-seat with her friend, and tilted Graham into a deck
+chair.
+
+Standing in the middle of the room, beaming with pride, he said: "How in
+thunder did you get here so soon? Your wire said that you were coming to
+tea, and I was going to meet the train leaving Paddington at
+three-thirty. Gee! This is the best thing that ever happened! Will you
+lunch here?"
+
+"Oh, no, dear!" said Mrs. Guthrie. "So many of us will worry your
+landlady."
+
+Then out came one of Peter's huge laughs. "Worry my landlady? One look
+at Mrs. Brownstack would show you that she got over being worried before
+the great wind. Why she's kept lodgings for undergraduates for twenty
+years. It's the same thing as saying that she's spent the greater part
+of her life sitting on the top of Vesuvius. I can give you beer, beef,
+pickles, biscuits, cake, swipes they call coffee, some corking Nougat
+and three brands of cigarettes."
+
+"I think," said Dr. Guthrie, with a suggestion of haste, "it might be
+better if you lunched with us at the hotel." Like all doctors, his first
+thoughts were of digestion.
+
+"Right-o!" said Peter, and he dived into his bedroom for a more
+respectable coat. His brother followed him in and the two stood facing
+each other for a moment, eye to eye. They had not met for two years.
+Instinctively they grasped hands again and the minds of both were filled
+with most affectionate things--a very flood of words--but one said "Old
+man!" and the other "Peter!" And while Graham brushed his kinky hair
+with a temporary suggestion of throatiness, Peter hauled out his best
+coat and whistled to show how utterly unmoved he was.
+
+They returned to the sitting-room together. Dr. Guthrie was examining
+the conglomeration of books that loaded the shelves. The plays of
+Bernard Shaw rubbed shoulders with "Masterton on Land Taxes."
+Stevenson's "Treasure Island" leaned up against Webster's Dictionary.
+"Tono-Bungay" had for a companion a slushy novel by Garvice--and on them
+all was dust.
+
+The little mother, all a-flutter like a thrush, was at the window
+looking through the trees at the warm old buildings opposite. The two
+girls were peering into a cupboard as into the "Blue Room," where they
+found nothing but a few whiskey bottles, several packs of cards, a box
+of chess-men, a couple of mortar-boards with all their corners gone,
+and a large collection of white shoes in all grades of dilapidation.
+
+"Are you all ready?" asked Dr. Guthrie, with a curious gayety. Among all
+this youth even he felt young.
+
+"Rather," said Peter. "I could eat an ox."
+
+He opened the door, touched his mother's soft cheek with his finger as
+she passed, tweaked his sister's hair, refrained from catching Betty
+Townsend's eyes, winked at his brother and drew back for his father.
+
+Once in the quad Mrs. Guthrie whispered to Graham and went quickly out
+into St. Giles, beckoning to the two girls to follow. She was very
+anxious that Peter should walk with his father, and this--rather pleased
+with himself--Peter did. He would have taken his father's arm if he had
+dared, he was so mighty glad to see him. Several times the Doctor seemed
+about to do the same thing, but his hand hesitated and dropped. And so
+these two fell in step and walked silently along towards the Randolph
+Hotel, passed by men in twos or threes, many of whom, to the Doctor's
+inward delight, cried out, "Hullo, Peter!" with tremendous cordiality.
+It was not until they turned the corner that the Doctor spoke.
+
+"It gives me real pleasure to see you again, Peter," he said, with a
+quick self-conscious glance at the young giant at his elbow.
+
+"Thank you, father," said Peter, looking straight ahead and getting as
+red as a peony.
+
+
+IV
+
+Nicholas Kenyon more than lived up to his promise. In clothes into which
+he seemed to have been poured in liquid form, he handed hot toast and
+cakes to Peter's family at tea-time with that air of deferential
+impertinence which was his peculiar property. He had the same effect on
+the Doctor and Mrs. Guthrie and the two girls as he had on Peter when he
+first saw him on the train. His complete self-control, his indolent
+assurance, his greyhound look of thoroughbredness and the decorative way
+in which he phrased his sentences all charmed and amused them. For
+Peter's sake he came right out of his shell at once and behaved like a
+man who had been a favorite in that family circle for years. In the most
+subtle manner he implied to the Doctor that his fame as a bacteriologist
+had spread all over Oxford, and even England. He refused to believe that
+Mrs. Guthrie was the mother of her children and not her own eldest
+daughter. He asked Graham almost at once to do him the favor of giving
+him the name of his tailor, and told Betty that he had shot with her
+father, Lord Townsend, many times, well-knowing that he was a portrait
+painter in New York. With consummate ease and tact he put everybody on
+the best of terms with one another and themselves, thereby winning still
+more of Peter's admiration and liking. With great pleasure he accepted
+the Doctor's invitation to dine at the Randolph Hotel, and in return
+invited all present to be his guests at the Open Air Performance of
+"Twelfth Night," later in the week, by the O.U.D.S., in the beautiful
+gardens of Worcester. In a word, he played with these people as a cat
+plays with a mouse and as he had always played with Peter. He used all
+his brain not only to win their confidence and friendship but to make an
+impression which might afterwards be of use to himself.
+
+Nicholas Kenyon was one of those men who are born and not made. He
+opened his eyes to find himself in an atmosphere of aristocratic
+roguery. The beautiful old house in which his father lived was mortgaged
+to the very tops of the chimneys. It was maintained on money borrowed
+from the loan sharks at an exorbitant interest. It was filled with men
+and women who, like his own parents, were clever and intellectual enough
+to work for their livelihood, but who preferred to live on their wits
+and cling to society by the skin of their teeth. In this
+atmosphere of expert parasites--an atmosphere as false as it was
+light-hearted--Nicholas was brought up. He was a complete man of the
+world at fourteen. Even at that age he gambled, raced and borrowed
+money; and in order to provide himself with the necessities of life he
+ran a roulette table in secret at Eton and made a book for the racing
+bets of the little boys of his own kidney. Highly gifted and endowed
+with a most likable personality, with the art of eluding punishment for
+misdeeds brought to a masterly completeness, he could have been shaped,
+under different circumstances, into a man whose name would stand high in
+his country. With the proper training and discipline and the right
+sense of duty which is given to those lucky lads whose parents are
+responsible and honorable he had it in his power to become a famous
+diplomat. As it was, he entered Oxford as a parasite and would leave the
+university for the world in the same capacity. He was entirely
+unscrupulous. He had no code of honor. He quietly used the men about him
+to provide him with amusement, money, hospitality, and to insure him
+against having to work. He turned his personality into a sort of
+business asset--a kind of limited liability company--which brought him
+in regular dividends. His breeding and good form, his well-known name
+and his inherent ability to slide comfortably into any set or society,
+made him wholly irresistible. No one suspected him, because his
+frankness disarmed suspicion. His knowledge of human nature told him
+that the paradox of his being poor lent him a sort of romance, and he
+always began by telling new acquaintances that he was broke to the wide.
+In this way he struck the honest note of the men who disdain to convey
+false impressions. He was poor, but proud, and made himself so
+attractive and companionable that men were delighted to be put to great
+expense in order to entertain him,--and he wanted everything of the very
+best. His clothes were immaculate. His cigarettes were freshly rolled.
+When he drove a car it had to be of the best known make. He was a most
+fastidious reader and had once read a paper on modern poetry which had
+startled the Dons of his college. He contributed short satirical
+articles to the Isis from time to time which tickled the intellect of
+the more discriminating; and as a fresher had given a performance of
+Puck in one of the productions of the O.U.D.S., over which undergraduate
+critics went raving mad. Even in his dealings with his friends, the
+chorus girls, there was a certain touch of humour which made it
+impossible even for the most straightlaced to say hard things of him.
+
+In a word, Nicholas Kenyon was a very dangerous man. His influence was
+as subtly bad and pernicious as a beautifully made cigarette heavily
+charged with dope; and he would at any time if necessary have stolen his
+mother's toilet set in order to provide himself with caviar, plover's
+eggs and a small bottle of champagne.
+
+And this was the man who had shared rooms with Peter Guthrie during his
+terms at Oxford, and of whom the Doctor spoke that first night of his
+stay at the Randolph Hotel as an unusually charming person whom it was a
+pleasure to meet.
+
+In fact, he was the sole topic of conversation in all the bedrooms of
+Peter's family party before the lights were turned out. Mrs. Guthrie
+said, as she sat in front of the dressing-table combing her hair: "How
+lucky it is, dear, that Peter has found such a wonderful friend here! He
+is so English and so refined--in every sense of the word a gentleman."
+The Doctor thoroughly agreed with her and made a mental note to invite
+Kenyon to his house in New York in the autumn.
+
+Belle Guthrie took her brushes into Betty's room, which was next to her
+own, and looking extremely attractive in a pale pink kimono, with her
+dark hair all about her shoulders and her naked feet in pink, heel-less
+slippers, gave a ripple of excited laughter and confided to her friend
+that she was going to have a more bully time even than she had hoped. "I
+love St. John's College," she said, "and these wonderful old streets and
+all the church bells which strike so frequently--but I'm perfectly crazy
+about Nicholas Kenyon. He is so,--so different--so witty--says such
+perfectly wonderful things--and oh, my dear! _did_ you see the way he
+looked at me when he said 'good-night'?"
+
+Betty shook her head--her little golden head--her rather wise little
+head. "I didn't look," she said. "The light was shining on Peter's face,
+and that was good enough for me."
+
+What Graham thought of Kenyon came out in Peter's rooms, to which he had
+gone back with his brother when the family were left at the hotel after
+their return from a jaunt on the river in the moonlight after
+dinner,--the quiet, soothing, narrow stream on which they had floated in
+punts all among cushions and listened with keen appreciation to the
+throbbing song of the nightingale and the deep voice of an undergraduate
+singing "Annie Laurie" in the back water to the thrumming accompaniment
+of a mandolin.
+
+Kenyon himself had gone round to the rooms of some friends of his to
+play bridge, so the two brothers were able to talk undisturbed. The
+night was deliciously warm and Peter's old windows, with their numerous
+leaded panes, were wide open. It was eleven o'clock and the life of the
+town had almost ceased, although from time to time little parties of
+undergraduates passed along St. Giles and their high-spirited laughter
+drifted up.
+
+After having put cigarettes in front of his brother, Peter flung himself
+full stretch upon his sofa, with a pipe between his teeth. "Now for your
+news, old man!" he said. "I'm glad you like Nick. He certainly is one of
+the best. What seems perfectly amazing to me is that while I'm still a
+sort of schoolboy, rowing and reading, you're a full-blown man earning
+your living. I'd give something to see you buzzing about Wall Street
+with your head full of stocks and shares and the rise and fall of
+prices. How do you do it?"
+
+Graham ran his hand rather nervously over his mouth. "It's great!" he
+said excitedly. "That's what I call life. Gee! You've no idea how
+fascinating it is to gamble on the tape and get a thrill every time you
+hear it tick. It's like living among earthquakes. I love it!"
+
+"Gamble!" Peter echoed the word with a touch of fright. "Good Lord; but
+you don't gamble surely? I thought you were a broker and looked after
+other people's concerns!"
+
+Graham shot out a short laugh. "Other people's concerns? Why, yes; but
+we're not in Wall Street for other people. I've had the luck of the
+devil lately though,--everything I've touched has gone wrong. However,
+don't let's talk about that. I'm here for a holiday and a rest, and I
+need 'em. I believe I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown before I
+came away. When I get back I shall have to straighten things out. At the
+present moment I'm out about twenty thousand dollars."
+
+It was his young brother who said these things--the boy who two years
+ago was only just out of Harvard. Peter sat up--in two senses. "You?
+Twenty thousand dollars! Have you told father?"
+
+"My God, no!" said Graham. "I shall get it all back of course;
+otherwise,--Phut! As to telling father,--well--well, do you ever tell
+father anything? I'd rather face electrocution than go into father's
+room with such a tale. Once before--about six months ago--when I had to
+meet a bill for five thousand dollars, I had a little talk with mother,
+and after she had a fit she gave me a handful of her jewels to pawn. She
+was afraid of father, too. Within two months I got them out again. Steel
+did me very well that time; and mother,--bless her dear heart!--called
+me a very clever boy, and said: 'What a brain you have, darling, but
+please don't do it again!' Oh, my God, Peter! You don't know what Wall
+Street means. It's hell! It's marvellous! It's life! One of these days
+when a real good chance comes I'll go some plunge, and then you'll see
+me living quietly in the country breeding ponies or dogs or chickens or
+something, and I'll marry and settle down."
+
+Peter got up, re-loaded his pipe, and said: "Just think of it! You're
+two years younger than I am. I've not begun to live and you're in the
+whirl of money and risk. In the meantime there's father so busy
+experimenting with microbes that he hasn't one idea of what his boys
+are doing, or are likely to do--absolutely content to let them find
+their feet unaided! Well, I suppose he knows what he's doing,--but what
+you've just told me makes me wonder whether it wouldn't be wise for him
+to experiment a little bit with us for a change. What d'you think?"
+
+Graham shrugged his shoulders. With the light on his face he looked
+older than his brother, and there was something in his eyes which showed
+that he had already gazed at life very much more closely than the big
+healthy fellow who was his host. "Oh, well," he said--pouring himself
+out a rather stiff whiskey--"we've never known quite what it was to have
+a father,--I mean except as a sort of aloof institution, a vague person
+who educated us and placed us out. I should resent his butting in now.
+There's someone coming up your stairs, isn't there?"
+
+There was. It was Kenyon, who rattled money in his trousers pocket with
+a little smile at the corners of his sophisticated mouth.
+
+
+V
+
+Peter put in the time of his life during the next few days, and like the
+great big simple fellow that he was, revelled in being the little hero
+of his family.
+
+From morning until night he kept them on the move, taking them to all
+his favorite haunts in the town and out in the country, introducing to
+them whole flocks of his friends, with whom they had tea and lunch;
+guiding them into the strange quiet chapels that were filled with the
+aroma of dead years like a bowl of dry rose-leaves; going with them into
+the sweet, quiet, sacred, stately seclusion of New College Garden and
+into the echoing cloisters of Magdalen. They were good days, memorable
+days, giving them all mental pictures that even time would not blur nor
+age rub out. To Peter the best of all the afternoons was the one when he
+looked up at the St. John's barge as he paddled out into the river in
+the College Eight and caught the eager and excited eyes of all the
+people who meant so much to him, and especially those of Betty. He rowed
+that afternoon as he had never rowed before, carrying with him all along
+the stream the raucous shouts of the members of his college who tore
+along the tow-path almost demented with enthusiasm, firing pistols,
+turning rattles and screaming "St. John's! St. John's! Give her ten!
+Give her ten! Up! Up!" And finally, when he staggered out of the boat
+almost sick from exertion, his knees shaking under him, the thought that
+came to him as he heard the incessant cries of "Good old Peter!" was
+"Thank God for this! The Governor will get something back for all he has
+done for me." He just waved his hand to his people, felt his way into
+the barge, laid himself flat on the floor and underwent the soothing
+process of being rubbed and sponged down--and all the while he smiled
+and was very happy.
+
+He didn't catch the look of maternal agony in his mother's eyes nor her
+remarks--which was perhaps just as well. Seeing her great big boy
+crumpled up over his oar before he was assisted out of the boat, seeing
+him stand rocking like a drunken man with his great chest heaving and
+his face the color of a green apple, she leaned over the rail and cried
+out: "Oh, my dear, what _have_ they done to you? Oh, Hunter, you must
+_not_ let him do these things, he'll kill himself! Oh, Peter, Peter!"
+
+As a matter of fact, no one heard her. There was too much good solid
+roar going on. Every lusty-throated St. John's man was shouting at the
+full capacity of his lungs. Oh, but it was a good scene! And for the
+quiet, studious Doctor who had sat day after day for the greater part of
+his life watching bacteriological experiments, with the most intense
+interest, it was one that caused his blood to move almost dangerously
+through his veins and make him shout for the first time in his life.
+
+It had a different effect upon temperamental Belle, who danced with
+excitement and kept on saying, in a sort of refrain, "Oh, I'm crazy
+about all this--simply crazy!" As for Graham, even the thrill of Wall
+Street seemed poor to him in comparison with this stirring scene,--the
+wild rush of men, the rhythmetic plunge of oars, the glorious muscular
+effort and the frenzied outburst.
+
+Betty merely smiled, clasped her hands together and held her breath. It
+seemed to her that in Peter all the heroes of her youth,--Brian de Bois
+Guilbert, Ivanhoe and the rest,--were epitomized in the form, the
+splendid young giant form of her fellow-countryman. Above all things in
+the world she wanted to lean over and put a wreath of laurels on the man
+who stroked the St. John's boat to victory. As it was, she cried a
+little, quietly and simply, not caring who saw her tears; and in her
+heart, for a reason which she herself found unexplainable, she sang "My
+Country 'tis of Thee." She had never in her life been so deeply stirred,
+and who can wonder at that? There is indeed something full of
+inspiration about these undergraduates' struggles on the water and the
+fervent partisanship of the colleges. It is unique and splendid and
+sends young men out into the world with good and beautiful memories and
+with the love and loyalty for their alma mater which makes them better
+able to serve the women who need them and the country to which they
+belong.
+
+And when, having changed his shorts and got once more into his flannels,
+Peter went up to the roof of the barge, stinging with health and glowing
+with very natural pride and satisfaction, it was the Doctor whose hand
+he first took, and the Doctor who said: "My son, my dear son!" It was an
+extraordinary moment for Peter, who had never in his life before felt
+the indescribable barrier which existed between his father and himself
+so near to crumbling.
+
+That night, while his father and mother and Graham were taken to the
+theatre by three of his fellow Rhodes scholars, to see a performance of
+one of Gilbert and Sullivan's plays, Peter and Nicholas Kenyon took
+Betty and Belle to the Worcester Ball, the two girls being under the
+wing of the wife of one of the Dons.
+
+It was one of those warm, clear, silver nights which the fickle climate
+of England sometimes produces apparently to show what it can do when it
+likes. The moon was full and the sky was bespattered with stars. The
+trees on the smooth lawn round the old college flung their shadows as
+though in sunlight and it was to a seat under one of these that Peter
+led Betty just before midnight, having very nearly danced her off her
+feet. They sat down panting a little, and laughing for no reason, and
+listened for a moment to the strains of the band which drifted through
+the open windows of the hall.
+
+It was not in Peter to do anything by halves. He worked and played like
+a Trojan and put his back into everything that he took up. He knew by
+this time, short as it was, that he was wholly and completely in love
+with the little girl, the first sight of whom had made him catch his
+breath. With a peculiar kind of grimness he had made up his mind that
+she was for him if he could win her, and all the previous night he had
+dreamed of her as his future wife, as the girl who would stand by his
+side, helpmate and everlasting lover, and for whom he would work well
+and live well and carry her with him rung by rung to the top of the
+ladder. He told himself when he awoke that he was a presumptuous ass
+even to dream that she would care for him. What was there in him for
+such a girl to care about? All the same, he set his teeth and from that
+moment laid all his future plans and his hopes and ambitions and all the
+best of his nature, at her little feet--and knew perfectly well that if
+Betty could not love him eventually he would walk alone through life.
+
+Odd, romantic or foolish as it may seem, when youth falls in and out of
+love so easily, this was true. Peter had, with a sort of unrealized
+solemnity, kept his heart free and pure. He was no trifler--he had never
+philandered. Like the boy who, perhaps unduly imaginative, believes that
+he will find the place where the rainbow ends, Peter said to himself:
+"One day I shall find my girl. I want to go to her heart-whole and
+complete."
+
+There was nothing of sentimentality about this. It was simply the
+outcome of the effect of the mother-influence upon the boy which had
+become a very concrete thing. Somehow, ever since he was old enough to
+remember and to think, he had looked upon his mother as his sweetheart,
+and when she bent over his cot at night and asked God to bless him and
+left the touch of her soft lips upon his forehead she had impressed upon
+him the unconscious ambition to make another such woman the centre of
+his own home. The numerous tender services, the exquisite maternal
+thoughtfulness of this little mother-woman, had been built up by him
+into a protection and a lode-star. Betty came--a girl in whom he
+recognized at once another mother--and she just touched his heart with
+her finger and walked straight in, fitting into the place which had been
+kept for her like a diamond into its setting.
+
+Poor dear old Peter! No one would have thought, who looked at him
+sitting there in his big awkwardness and incoherence, that he was a man
+in love, although a psychologist or even an ordinarily observant girl
+could very easily have told how Betty felt.
+
+"Topping, isn't it?" he said.
+
+"Simply wonderful," she replied.
+
+"Tired?"
+
+"Not a bit."
+
+"Pretty good floor, eh?"
+
+"Perfectly splendid."
+
+"Gee! I shall miss this place."
+
+"Why, of course you will."
+
+"All the same, I shall be mighty keen to get at things,--and begin."
+
+"Yes, of course you will."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Oh, that's easy."
+
+"Is it? How?"
+
+"Well, don't I know you?"
+
+"Do you? I wish you did."
+
+Up in the branches something stirred. It may have been Cupid--probably
+it was.
+
+But silence followed this conversational effort--a silence broken by a
+great heaving sigh, mostly of excitement, and the strains of the band
+which drifted out of the windows of the College Hall.
+
+And over them both, as over all other men and women, young and old, at
+the beginning and at the end, hung the moon and the stars.
+
+How good it is to be young and in love!
+
+
+VI
+
+Unnoticed by Mrs. Guthrie and her two boys, there was something more
+than a little pathetic in the Doctor's eager, wistful attitude toward
+the rather thoughtless, high-spirited, seething youth in the middle of
+which he found himself for the first time.
+
+This man had never been young. The atmosphere of the farm on which he
+had been born killed youth as foul air kills a caged bird. Poverty,
+sordidness and the grim, constant struggle to live made his childhood
+and early days utterly devoid of the good sweet things. His mother, worn
+out and dispirited, died in giving him birth, and his father, bitter,
+lonely and filled with the irony that comes from a long and unprofitable
+hand-to-hand fight with mother-earth, let him bring himself up. He was
+turned out to work at a time when most lads are sent to school. He had
+to trudge daily into the straggling, one-eyed town, at an early hour, to
+report at the chemist's store where he obtained employment as an errand
+boy. Most of the small wages he earned were required by his father. From
+almost the very beginning life was to him a sort of whirling stream into
+which he had been flung before having been taught to swim. Mere
+self-preservation demanded that he should keep himself afloat. He picked
+up education as a stray dog picks up an occasional bone. There was,
+however, great grit in this boy and deep down in his soul an ambition to
+become something better than his father, whose daily wrestle with
+nature--the most relentless of task-mistresses--had warped his character
+and stultified his soul. Young Hunter shuddered at the thought of living
+always on the farm, of grubbing in the earth, of planting and hoeing and
+reaping, of facing the almost inevitable tragedy of spoiled crops and
+ruined hopes, and the yearly set-backs of advancing freights and higher
+wages. He looked with growing horror and detestation at the farm
+implements among which his father spent his life; and while he ran his
+errands, carrying medicines and soda syphons, he nursed a dream in his
+little cold heart, which grew out of the smell of medicines and the talk
+of illness that was all about him in the chemist store. It was to become
+a doctor and tend the needs of humanity and, if it was in his power, to
+save to other children the mothers who brought them into being.
+
+No wonder Dr. Hunter Guthrie wore strong glasses over his short-sighted
+eyes. At all times, with a sort of greed and an almost terrible
+eagerness, he read every medical book on which he could lay his
+hands,--in bed by the light of one candle, in the cubby-hole at the back
+of the store under the glare of the unshaded electric bulb, in
+trolley-cars and trains, and on the stoop of the shabby farmhouse so
+long as the light lasted. Later, after his day's work, he attended night
+classes, and even as he walked from the farm to the town he read.
+Spending sleepless nights and living laborious days he followed the
+example of many other brave and determined boys whose names gleam like
+beacons in the history of their country. He worked his way through the
+necessary stages until finally, after a struggle so relentless that it
+nearly broke his health, he became a qualified doctor. In order to earn
+the money for his courses he was at different times bell-boy in a
+country hotel, an advertisement writer in a manufacturer's office, a
+clerk for a real-estate man and a traveling salesman for safety razors.
+His vacations were more arduous than his terms, and during these he
+earned the money with which to pay his college expenses. Every step up
+the ladder of innumerable rungs--which sometimes seemed to him
+impossible to climb--was painful and difficult. So much concentration
+was needed from the very beginning--so much condensed determination and
+energy required--that at the age of twenty-five he seemed to have lived
+twice that number of years. No wonder then that the all-conquering
+youthfulness of all the undergraduates amongst whom he found himself at
+Oxford awoke a sort of envy in his heart and startled him who had never
+been young. There was no meanness, jealousy or sense of martyrism in his
+feelings as he watched the kaleidoscopic picture of university
+life--only a sort of wonder and amazement that there were men in the
+world so lucky--so indescribably fortunate as to be able to carry
+boyhood and all its joys forward to an age when he had forgotten that
+such a period existed. Many times during those interesting and stirring
+days he stopped suddenly and thanked his God that he had been able to do
+for his own boys those things which no one had ever done for him, and
+give them such a chance in life as he had never had. Actually to see
+Peter, his eldest boy, proving his muscular strength and his mental
+ability and moving among his fellows with such splendid popularity,
+filled him with pride and gladness. Here indeed was a very concrete
+evidence of his reward for that long, arduous struggle.
+
+Like most men who have concentrated upon one thing, Dr. Guthrie was a
+child when it came to others. Athleticism, of which he knew nothing,
+filled him with admiration. The knack of conversation amazed him. Even
+to his wife he found it difficult to talk. To force himself to confide
+was almost impossible--it was like blasting a rock. One afternoon
+however he got nearer to an intimate expression of his feelings than
+ever before--perhaps because he was still under the influence of the
+intoxication of the youthfulness all about him.
+
+Kenyon had driven them out after tea to Shotover Hill. All the young
+people had gone on to Cuddesden, leaving the doctor and his wife to sit
+and look down into the valley far below in which nestled the town and
+all its colleges and spires. It had been a golden day and the sun was
+setting with all the dignity and pomp of early summer, making the thin
+line of the Thames shine like a winding silver ribbon. There was
+something of exultation over the earth that evening and of
+untranslatable beauty, and the evening song of the birds was like that
+of choristers in a great cathedral.
+
+Unusual words seethed in the doctor's head. He was moved and thrilled.
+The rest and the relief of leaving his work, all the bustle and stir of
+the new life in which he was a temporary figure, seemed to take him
+back to his own early days when, with the little woman who sat by his
+side, he had stood with her in their first house, newly married.
+
+He took his hat off, put his arm round the shoulders of that faithful
+woman and kissed her cheek with a touch of passion and gratitude. "My
+darling," he said, "I wish I could say properly some of the things that
+I feel about you and my children and the goodness of God. There are
+tears in my heart, and strange feelings. I feel oddly young and strong.
+I want to laugh and cry. I'd like to pick wild flowers and make a little
+crown for your head. Don't laugh at me--please don't laugh."
+
+The little woman took his thin hand and pressed it to her cheek. "I
+laugh because that is how I feel, too," she said,--"young and glad and
+very happy to see my big Peter doing such wonderful things, and still a
+boy. Dear old man, we have much to be thankful for! I know how you've
+worked and striven,--and how fine it is to see some of the results of
+it. I was a little afraid before we came here that we might find Peter
+different--altered--perhaps older--but he's just the same. He's exactly
+like you."
+
+The Doctor shook his head and a sudden pain twisted his thin, studious
+face. "Oh no, no," he said, "I was never like that. I wish to God I had
+been. But it was to make Peter what he is that I've worked night and
+day. He's my idea of a man. He's doing all the things that I'd like to
+have done. He's me as I might have been if I'd had any luck--any sort
+of a chance. Do I regret it? Am I jealous? No; because if I hadn't
+lived such an opposite life I mightn't have desired to give my boy all
+this." He waved his hand towards the spires that rose in all their
+significance out of the town away below. And then, with intense
+eagerness and a ring of wistfulness in his voice that brought tears to
+his wife's eyes, he bent towards her. "Do you think he realizes this,
+Mary? Does Graham ever stop to think how hard I've worked to put him in
+Wall Street? Does Belle ever wonder what it's cost me in youth and
+health to give her so much more than she needs? I'm--I'm a queer,
+wordless, foolishly shy man. Old since the time they all three began to
+think and use their eyes,--necessarily concentrated and aloof away in
+that laboratory of mine, and--and sometimes I wonder whether my children
+know me and understand and make allowances. Do they, Mary, my dear one?
+Do they?"
+
+"Yes, my man, my brave and splendid man," she replied, "they do, they
+do!" And in saying this she deliberately lied,--out of her great and
+steadfast love for this man of hers she lied.
+
+No one knew so well as she did that the father of her children might
+almost as well be a mere distant relation who lived in their home for
+reasons of convenience and allotted money to their requirements at the
+proper time. No one knew so well as she did that Hunter Guthrie's tragic
+lack of childhood had dried out of his nature the power of understanding
+children. Never having been a child in any sense of the word--never
+having known the inexpressible joy of a mother's love--remembering
+nothing but a father who was either working hard or tired out--he was
+unable to conceive what his own children needed in addition to all that
+they got hourly from his wife and from his own work. It had always
+seemed to him that in the possession of a mother they had everything
+good that God could give them. It seemed to him that his own part was
+performed by providing for their needs. No man desired to be the father
+of sons and daughters more than he did. No man was prouder in the
+possession of them than he was and had always been. To hear the patter
+of their little feet about his house sent him to his work with that
+sense of religion of which Carlyle wrote. To watch them shaping from
+childhood into youth was the most satisfactory and beautiful thing in
+his life. To be able, year after year, to do better and still better for
+them was his best and biggest reward--far greater and more glorious than
+the distinction he earned for himself and the international reputation
+that increased with each of his discoveries. And when, six months after
+Peter had left home to go to Oxford with a Rhodes scholarship, he found
+himself unexpectedly endowed to the extent of over three million dollars
+under the will of a late wealthy patient, so that he might, in the old
+man's own words, "devote himself, without the fret and fever of earning
+a livelihood as a practitioner, to the noble and limitless work of a
+bacteriologist for the benefit of suffering humanity all over the
+world," it was for the sake of his children that he offered up thanks.
+With what immense pride he notified the authorities at Harvard that his
+son was independent of the scholarship, which was free to send another
+man to Oxford. With what keen pleasure he was able to buy Graham a seat
+on the Stock Exchange, bring Belle out as a debutante and send his
+little Ethel to the best possible school. These things he could do, and
+did, but he could not and had never been able to do for them a better
+thing than all these,--win their confidence, their deep affection and
+their friendship. That gift had been killed in him. It could not be
+acquired, taught or purchased, and he had always been as much out of
+touch with his boys and girls as though he were divided from them by a
+great stone wall. It had always been with them, "Look out! Here's
+father!" instead of "Hello! Here's Dad!" His entrance into their
+playroom was the signal for silence. The sight of his studious face and
+short-sighted eyes and distrait, shy manner chilled them and reduced
+them to quietude and self-consciousness and suspicion. If he had treated
+them always as human beings, played with them, sat on the floor and
+built houses with their bricks, thrown open the door of his study to
+them, if only for half an hour every day, so that there might be no
+possibility of its becoming a Blue Room; if he had, as they grew into
+the habit of thinking and observing and remembering, told them about
+himself and his own boyhood and in this way inculcated a mutual
+interest, a desire to respond and open out; if, before the two boys had
+gone to college he had had the courage to act on the earnest advice of a
+friend and speak to them on the vital question of sex, give them the
+truth as he so well knew it and warn them bravely and rightly of the
+inevitable pitfalls that lined their youthful path, no brick wall would
+have existed and he would have been their pal as well as their
+father,--a combination altogether irresistible.
+
+As it was Hunter Guthrie's wife, who loved him deeply and devotedly and
+recognized in him a great man as well as a most unselfish father, was
+obliged to lie in reply to his questions. She would rather have died,
+then and there, than hurt him and bring down his house about his ears.
+The sad and tragic part of it all was that she knew utterly that no
+good, no change could be brought about by telling the truth. It was too
+late.
+
+
+VII
+
+Belle had told Betty that she was "crazy" about Nicholas Kenyon. There
+is usually a wildness of exaggeration about this expression which
+renders it almost harmless. The exuberant type of girl who uses it
+applies it with equal thoughtlessness to a new hat, a new play or a new
+set of furs. She will be crazy about a tenor and a pomeranian, a
+so-called joke in a comic paper and the sermon of a fashionable
+preacher. In regard to Kenyon, however, Belle was really and truly crazy
+in its most accurate dictionary sense. After the Worcester Ball, during
+which she gave him nearly every dance,--to the flustered concern of the
+Don's wife who was her chaperon,--she went to no trouble to conceal from
+Kenyon the fact that she found him vastly attractive. Kenyon was not
+surprised. Already he was a complete expert in the art of making himself
+loved by women. He knew exactly what they liked him to say and he said
+it with a touch of insolence which took their breath away and a
+following touch of deference which gave them back their self-respect.
+Belle was very much to his liking. Her rather Latin beauty, which was
+rendered unexplainable by the sight of her parents--her incessant high
+spirits and love of life--her naive assumption that she was the mistress
+of all the secrets of this world, amused, interested and tickled his
+fancy. Her beauty, freshness and youth pleased him as an epicure, and he
+went out of his way to be with her as much as he could. He had no
+intention whatever of falling in love with her,--first of all because it
+was all against his creed to fall in love with anyone but himself;
+secondly, because his way of living demanded that he should have no
+partner in his business,--all that he could win by his wits he would
+need. Nevertheless, he was quite as ready as usual to take everything
+that was given to him, and give nothing in return except flattery,
+well-rounded sentences and a good deal of his personal attention.
+
+During the week that passed so quickly he had only been able to see
+Belle with her people, and when he found that this bored her as much as
+it bored him, he set his brain to work to devise some plan by which he
+could escape with her from the party for a few hours. Needless to say he
+succeeded.
+
+On the night before the party were to leave Oxford he arranged another
+evening trip on the river, maneuvered Peter into one punt with his
+father and mother, Graham and Betty, and got into another with Belle.
+For some little time he poled along closely behind them, but as the
+river was full of similar parties he found it easy to drop behind and
+dodge deftly into a back water. Here he tied up to a branch, set himself
+down on the cushions at Belle's side and lit a cigarette.
+
+"How's that?" he asked.
+
+Belle laughed a little excitedly. "Very clever," she said. "I wondered
+how you were going to do it."
+
+He didn't find it necessary to tell her that he had performed a similar
+trick a hundred times. "Under the right sort of inspiration," he said,
+"even I can develop genius. Tell me something about New York, and what
+you find to do there."
+
+"I should have to talk from now until to-morrow morning even to begin to
+tell you," she said. "I only came out last winter, but the history of it
+would fill a book. New York is some town and I guess a girl has a better
+time there than anywhere else in the world. Why don't you come and see
+something of it for yourself?"
+
+Kenyon leaned lightly against the girl's soft shoulder. "That's
+precisely what I'm going to do," he said. "Your father has given me a
+cordial invitation to stay at his house, and I shall go over with Peter
+in October."
+
+"Oh, isn't that fine!" cried Belle. "You'll love the place--it's so
+different."
+
+"I'm not worrying about the place," said Kenyon. "I'm simply going for
+the chance of dancing with you to the band which really does know how to
+play rag-time. It'll be worth crossing three thousand miles of
+unnecessary water to achieve that alone."
+
+"I don't believe you," said Belle; but all her teeth gleamed in the
+moonlight and her heart pumped a little. How wonderful it would be to
+become the wife of the Honourable Nicholas Kenyon, who seemed to her to
+be everything that was desirable.
+
+Kenyon picked up her hand and just touched it with his lips. "You don't
+believe it? Well, we'll see." He knew very well that if he had chosen to
+do so he could have kissed her lips, but his policy was to go slow. His
+epicurianism was so complete that he liked to take his enjoyment in sips
+and not empty his glass at a gulp. This girl whose imagined worldliness
+was so childlike was well worth all his attention. He looked forward
+with absolute certainty to the hour when he should place her on his
+little list of achievements; but like all collectors and connoisseurs he
+added to his pleasure by winning his point gradually, step by step, with
+a sort of cold-blooded passion.
+
+Belle was accustomed to men who were a little crude in their naturalness
+and who immediately voiced their admiration and their liking with boyish
+spontaneity. She had strings of beaux of all ages who immediately sent
+her flowers and presents and dogged her heels from dance to dance and
+rang her up constantly on the telephone and generally showed their
+eagerness with that lack of control which was characteristic of a
+nation which had deliberately placed women in the position of queens.
+
+Perhaps it was because this man's methods were so different that she
+found him so attractive. He fed her vanity and piqued it at the same
+time. He said more by saying nothing than any man had ever ventured to
+do, and he retired so quickly after an amazing advance that he left her
+assuming more than if he had never advanced at all. It was perfectly
+natural, although she had already dipped into the fastest New York set,
+that she should believe that at the end of every man's intention there
+was a marriage and a sort of throne in his house. She little knew
+Nicholas Kenyon. She had had the good fortune to meet men in New York,
+and not collectors.
+
+"What are your father's plans when he leaves Oxford?" asked Kenyon,
+leaning a little more closely against the girl's soft shoulder.
+
+"Why, we're going to Shakespeare's country, to the English lakes and
+then to Scotland, where father's ancestors lived; and then in August we
+shall go to London for a week, and go home on the _Olympic_. Why don't
+you go over with us?"
+
+"I should like nothing better," said Kenyon, "but as a matter of fact I
+shall wait until Peter has got through his various engagements. He rows
+at Henley in July, you know,--the boat is entered for the Lady's
+Plate,--and then he comes home with me. He wants to shoot my father's
+birds in August and see a little of English country life before he
+settles down to his law work in America."
+
+Belle was silent for a few moments. She wished that this wonderful week
+could be extended over the whole of her holidays. She knew, and was
+really a little frightened at knowing, that when she left Oxford the
+next day she would leave behind her a heart that had hitherto been quite
+untouched. She was amazed and even a little annoyed to find that a mere
+week had brought about such a revolution in all her feelings and in her
+whole outlook on life. She had meant to have a perfectly wonderful time
+before falling in love.
+
+"I suppose," she said, "that we shan't hear anything of you until we see
+you again, unless,--unless you write sometimes to mother and tell her
+how you are and what Peter is doing."
+
+Kenyon didn't even smile. "Peter will write to your mother once a week,
+as usual--he's very consistent--and I'll get him to put in a postscript
+about me, if you like. I shall have some difficulty in preventing myself
+from writing to you from time to time, although I'm a child in the art
+of letter-writing."
+
+"Why should you prevent it? I should simply love to have your letters."
+
+"But isn't your mother a little old-fashioned?"
+
+"Maybe," said Belle, "but does that matter? You've not met any American
+girls before--that's easy to see. We do just what we like, and if our
+mothers don't agree they don't dare to say so. Shall I tell you why?
+Because it wouldn't make any difference if they did."
+
+"Then I shall write," said Kenyon, "and give you brief but eloquent
+descriptions of English weather, English politics and the condition of
+my liver,--that is to say, the three inevitable topics of this country."
+
+Belle laughed. "Then it will be perfectly safe for me to leave your
+letters about," she said.
+
+"Perfectly,--always supposing that you censor the postscripts."
+
+"I'm crazy about you!" said Belle; and this time her laugh awoke the
+echoes of the river and filled a nightingale near by with a pathetic
+ambition to emulate its music.
+
+And then they heard Peter's great voice shouting, "N-i-c-k!" Whereupon
+Kenyon gathered himself together, not unpleased at being disturbed,
+stood up gracefully and pulled back into the main stream. "The call of
+duty," he said--"such is life." It was consistent with his policy to
+conduct this most pleasant affair by instalments.
+
+When he saw the other punt he asked Peter, with a touch of beautiful
+petulance, why he had deliberately lost them, and turned a deaf ear to
+Graham's idiotic chuckle.
+
+The landing stage was in the shadow, which was just as well. When Kenyon
+gave his hand to Belle to help her out of the punt, he drew her close
+against him and with a touch of passion as unexpected as the sudden
+flash of a searchlight across a dark sky left a kiss on her lips that
+took her breath away.
+
+All the way back to the hotel she hung on Peter's arm and dared not
+trust herself to speak. For the first time in her young life she had
+caught a glimpse of its meaning. It left her strangely moved and
+thrilled.
+
+Little Mrs. Guthrie walked back with Kenyon, very proud of the fact that
+he was Peter's friend.
+
+Poor little mother!
+
+
+VIII
+
+On the steps of the Randolph Hotel, Mrs. Guthrie turned to Kenyon and
+asked him, with one of her most motherly smiles, to have some supper
+with them. Telegraphing quickly to Peter and Graham that they were not
+to accept the invitation, Kenyon said: "Nothing would give me greater
+pleasure--absolutely nothing. Unfortunately Peter and I have already
+accepted an invitation from two of our Dons and we cannot possibly get
+out of this dull but profitable hour."
+
+"How very disappointing!" said Mrs. Guthrie.
+
+"How silly!" said Belle.
+
+Betty merely said, "Oh!" but the rest of her sentence was condensed into
+one quick look at Peter.
+
+Peter, utterly without guile, turned round to Nicholas Kenyon in blank
+amazement. "It's the first I've heard of it," he said. "What on earth do
+you mean? Two of the Dons? Who are they?"
+
+But Kenyon was an artist and a strategist, and therefore a liar. "My
+dear old boy! What would you do without me? I'm your diary, your
+secretary, your guide, philosopher and friend. If you've forgotten the
+engagement I certainly haven't." And he shot at Peter a swift and
+subtle wink, in which he included Graham.
+
+Scenting adventure and gathering that the two Dons were in all
+probability coming from the chorus of "The Pirates of Penzance," Graham
+joined in quickly. "I suppose I can't come and listen humbly to the
+learned conversation of these two professors?"
+
+"But why not?" said Kenyon. "No doubt you can tell them more about Wall
+Street in five minutes than they would ever learn in their lives.
+Therefore, dear Mrs. Guthrie, I'm afraid we must all say 'good-night.'
+We'll rejoin you in the morning for breakfast as arranged, and wind up
+what's been the pleasantest week of my life, by driving out to Woodstock
+for lunch."
+
+It was all done in the most masterly manner, and when the three men left
+the hotel arm in arm they were not guided by Kenyon toward St. Giles,
+but to the theatre, where the curtain was just about to fall with the
+last act.
+
+"What's all this?" asked Peter, impatiently. "Mother had set her heart
+upon having us to supper."
+
+"Mother has had us all day," replied Kenyon. "Bear in mind the fact that
+there are other women in the world to whom we owe a little gallantry.
+You and Graham are going to eat Welsh Rabbit at the somewhat humble
+rooms of my little friends, Lottie Lawrence and Billy Seymour."
+
+"I'll see you damned first!" said Peter. "I've no use for these people.
+Come on, Graham, let's go back."
+
+Kenyon's face was wreathed in smiles. "It can't be done, dear lad," he
+said. "Your mother would be the last person on earth to permit you to be
+discourteous to our two distinguished Dons, and by this time in all
+human probability Betty will be preparing for bed."
+
+Peter had been building all his hopes on another hour with Betty. She
+was leaving Oxford with his people the next afternoon and he wanted
+above all things, however incoherently, to let her know something of the
+state of his feelings. He had never been so angry with Kenyon before.
+"Curse you!" he said. "You've spoiled everything. If you must play about
+with these chorus girls why can't you do it alone? Why drag me in?"
+
+Kenyon's eyes narrowed. "Only the angels die young, Peter, my friend,"
+he said. "As I've been obliged to tell you before, you stand a pretty
+good chance of an early demise. Have you ever heard the word 'priggish'?
+For a whole week I've played the game by you and devoted myself, lock,
+stock and barrel, to your family. Mere sportsmanship demands that you
+make some slight return to me by joining my little party to-night. Don't
+you agree with me, Graham?"
+
+Graham's vanity was vastly appealed to by the fact that this perfect man
+of the world had taken him into his intimacy. Hitherto he hadn't met
+English chorus girls. He rather liked the idea. "Why," he said, "I can't
+see why we shouldn't go. I'm with you, anyway. Come on, Peter. Be a
+sport."
+
+But Peter held his ground. He had all the more reason for so doing
+because he had met Betty. "All right!" he said. "You two can do what you
+jolly well like. Cut me out of it. I shall turn in. If that's being
+priggish--fine. Good-night!"
+
+He wheeled round and marched off, and as he passed beneath the windows
+of the Randolph Hotel he drew up short for a moment and with a touch of
+knightliness which was quite unself-conscious he bared his head beneath
+the window of the room in which he believed that Betty was to sleep, but
+which, as a matter of fact, harboured a short, fat, wheezy Anglo-Indian
+with a head as bald as a billiard ball.
+
+Kenyon disguised his annoyance under an air of characteristic
+imperturbability. "Well, that's our Peter to the life," he said, taking
+Graham's eager arm. "He's a sort of Don Quixote--a very pure and perfect
+person. One of these days he's likely to come an unholy cropper, and
+that's to my way of thinking what he most needs. I don't agree with a
+man's being a total abstainer in anything. It narrows him and makes him
+provincial. Then, too, a man who fancies himself as better than his
+fellows is apt to wear a halo under his hat, and that disgusting trick
+ruins friendship and leads to a hasty and ill-considered marriage with
+the first good actress who catches him on the hop and makes use of his
+lamentable ignorance. Come along, brother, we'll see life together."
+
+"Fine!" said Graham. "Me for life all the time."
+
+So these two,--the one curiously old and the other dangerously
+young,--made their way to the stage door of the Theatre Royal and
+waited among the little crowd of undergraduates for the moment when the
+ladies of the chorus should have retouched their make-up and be ready
+for further theatricalisms.
+
+Lottie Lawrence and Billy Seymour were the first out. The latter's
+greeting was exuberant. "What-ho, Nick! Where's the blooming giant you
+said you were going to bring?"
+
+"Otherwise engaged, dear Billy; but permit me to introduce to you a
+financial magnate from the golden city of New York."
+
+Billy was young and slim and so tight-skirted that her walk was almost
+like that of a Chinese Princess. Even under the modest light of the
+stage door-keeper's box her lips gleamed crimsonly and her long
+eyelashes stuck out separately in black surprise. Her small round face
+was plastered thickly with powder. She was very alluring to the very
+young. Her friend had come from an exactly similar mould and might have
+been a twin but for her manner, which was that of the violet--the modest
+violet--on a river's brim.
+
+Kenyon hailed a cab, gave the man the address in Wellington Square and
+sat himself between the two girls, with an arm round each.
+
+Billy Seymour had taken in Graham with one expert glance of minute
+examination. "Graham Guthrie, eh?" she said. "It smacks of Caledonia,
+bag-pipes and the braes and banks o' bonnie Doon. I take it your
+ancestors went over on the S. S. Mayflower, of the White Star Line--that
+gigantic vessel which followed the beckoning finger of Columbus--and
+started the race which invented sky-scrapers and the cuspidors."
+
+Graham let out a howl of laughter and told himself that he was in for a
+good evening, especially as the ladies' knees were very friendly.
+
+Lottie Lawrence placed her head on Kenyon's shoulder, sighed a little
+and said: "Oh, I'm so tired and so hungry; and I've a thirst I wouldn't
+sell for a tenner."
+
+Kenyon tightened his hold. "All those things shall be remedied, little
+one," he said. "Have no fear."
+
+The first things which met their eyes when they entered the sitting-room
+of the sordid little house in which a series of theatricals had lodged
+from time immemorial, were a half-dozen bottles of champagne--sent in by
+Nick's order. The two girls showed their appreciation for his
+tactfulness in different ways. Billy fell upon one of the bottles as
+though it were her long-lost sister, pressed it to her bosom and placed
+a passionate kiss upon its label; while Lottie, with an eloquent
+gesture, immediately handed Graham a rather battered corkscrew. "Help me
+to the bubbly, boy," she said. "My throat is like a limekiln."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+All the clocks of the City of Spires were striking three as Kenyon and
+Graham supported each other out into the quiet and deserted street.
+There was much powder on Graham's coat and a patch of crimson on
+Kenyon's left cheek.
+
+"Life with a big L, Graham, my boy," said Kenyon a little thickly.
+
+"A hell of a big L," said Graham, with a very much too loud laugh at his
+feeble joke. "You certainly do know your way about."
+
+"And most of the short cuts," said Kenyon dryly. "Presently I shall
+scale the wall of St. John's, climb through the window of one of our
+fellows who's about to take holy orders, and wind up the night in the
+hospitable arms of Morpheus." This eventually Graham watched him do,
+with infinite delight, and was still wearing a smile of
+self-congratulation as he passed the door of his mother's bedroom in the
+hotel and entered his own.
+
+His father heard the heavy footsteps as they went along the passage, but
+imagined that they were those of the night watchman on his rounds.
+
+Fate is the master of irony.
+
+
+IX
+
+The following morning at eight o'clock Peter, as fit as a fiddle,
+stalked into Kenyon's bedroom and flung up the blind. The sun poured in
+through the open window. Innumerable sparrows twittered among the trees
+in the gardens and scouts were moving energetically about the quad. From
+the other windows the sounds of renewed life were coming. The great
+beehive of a college was about to begin a new and strenuous day.
+
+Kenyon was sleeping heavily with a blanket drawn about his ears. His
+clothes were all over the floor and a tumbler one-fourth filled with
+whiskey stood on the dressing-table among a large collection of
+ivory-backed brushes, links, studs, tie-pins and other paraphernalia
+which belong to men of Kenyon's type,--the bloods of Oxford. With a
+chuckle, Peter dipped a large sponge in the water of the hip-bath which
+had been placed ready on the floor, and throwing back the blanket
+squeezed its contents all over Kenyon's well-cut face.
+
+The effect was instantaneous. The sleeper awoke, and cursed. Peter's
+howl of laughter at the sight of this pale blinking man with his
+delicate blue silk pajamas all wet round the neck advertised the fact to
+the whole college that he was up and about.
+
+Kenyon got slowly out of bed. "There are fools--damned fools--and Peter
+Guthrie," he said quietly. "What's the time?"
+
+"Time for you to get up, shave and bathe, if you want to breakfast at
+the Randolph. How late were you last night?"
+
+"Haven't a notion," said Kenyon. "The first faint touch of dawn was
+coming over the horizon, so far as I remember, when your little brother
+watched me climb through the window of the man Rivers, upon whose
+'tummie' I planted my foot. For a man who's about to enter the Church he
+has an astounding vocabulary of gutter English. You look abominably fit,
+old boy--the simple life, eh? Heigh-ho!--Manipulate this machine for me
+while I'm doing my hair." He picked up the small black case of his
+safety-razor and threw it at Peter, who caught it. Then he got into a
+very beautiful silk dressing-gown, stuck his feet into a pair of
+heelless red morocco slippers, and with infinite pains and accuracy made
+a centre parting in his fair hair, in which there was a slight natural
+curl.
+
+From his comfortable position on the foot of the bed Peter watched his
+friend shave,--a performance through which he went with characteristic
+neatness. It was a very different performance from the one through which
+Peter was in the habit of going. Soap flew all round this untidy man,
+giving the scout much extra work in his cleaning-up process.
+
+Kenyon didn't intend to enter into any details as to the orgy of the
+night before. He knew from previous experience that Peter's sympathy was
+not with him. For many reasons he desired to stand well with his friend,
+especially looking to the fact that he needed an immediate loan. One or
+two of his numerous creditors were pressing for part payment. So he let
+the matter drop and took the opportunity to talk like a father to Peter
+on another point which had grown out of the visit of his people. "Tell
+me," he said, "what is precisely the state of your feelings in regard to
+your sister's friend? It seems to me that you're getting a bit sloppy in
+that direction. Am I right?"
+
+"No," said Peter, "'sloppy' isn't the word."
+
+"Oh! Well, then, what is the word? I may be able to advise you."
+
+"I don't want your advice," said Peter. "My mind is made up."
+
+Kenyon turned round. "Is that so? Quick work."
+
+Peter nodded. "It's always quick when it's inevitable."
+
+"Oho! What have we here--romance?"
+
+"Yes; I think so," said Peter quietly.
+
+"Who'd have thought it? Our friend Peter has met his soul-mate! Out of
+the great crowd he has chosen the mother of his children. It is to
+laugh!"
+
+"Think so?" said Peter. "I don't."
+
+Kenyon put down his razor and stood in front of the man with whom he had
+lived for several years and who had now apparently come up against a big
+moment in his life. It didn't suit him that Peter should be seriously in
+love yet. He looked to his friend to provide him with a certain amount
+of leisure in the future. His plans would all go wrong if he had to
+share him with someone else. He had imagined that his friend was only
+temporarily gone on this little girl whose brief entry into Oxford had
+helped to make Eight's week very pleasant. It was his duty to find out
+exactly how Peter stood.
+
+"Do you mean to tell me," he asked, "that you've proposed to Betty
+Townsend?"
+
+"Not yet," said Peter, "but I'm going to this morning--that is if I have
+the pluck."
+
+"My dear fellow," said Kenyon, with a genuine earnestness, "don't do it.
+I've no doubt she'll jump at you, being under the influence of this
+place and seeing you as a small hero here; but take the advice of a man
+who knows and bring caution to your rescue. What'll happen if you tie
+yourself up to this girl? After all, you can't possibly be in love with
+her--that's silly. You're under the influence of a few silver nights,
+and that most dangerous of all things--propinquity. Dally with her of
+course, kiss her and write her letters in which you quote the soft stuff
+of the poets. That'll provide you with much quiet amusement and assist
+you in the acquisition of a literary style; but, for God's sake, don't
+be serious. You're too young. You've not sown your wild oats. What's the
+use of taking a load of responsibility on your shoulders before you're
+obliged to do so? I'm talking to you like a father, old man, and I've
+the right."
+
+"Oh yes," said Peter, "you've the right--no man better--but you and I
+look at things differently. I want the responsibility of this girl. I
+want someone to work for,--an impetus--an ultimate end. It may seem
+idiotic to you that I know the right girl directly I see her, but all
+the same it's a fact. You see my undergraduate days are almost over.
+When I go home in the fall I shall start earning my living. What am I
+going to work for? A home, of course, and a wife and all that that
+means. If that's what you call romance, thank you, it's exactly what I
+want. Do you get me?"
+
+Kenyon shrugged his shoulders. "Then I don't see that there's anything
+more to be said. Does all this mean that you're going to chuck me?
+Supposing Betty accepts you? Are you going to dog her footsteps for the
+rest of the summer and leave me in the cart?"
+
+"Oh Lord, no!" said Peter.
+
+"Thank God for small mercies! And now if you'll give me a little
+elbow-room I'll have my bath."
+
+"Right-o!" said Peter. "Buck up! Breakfast at nine o'clock."
+
+He went out, not singing as usual but with a curious quietness and a
+strange light dancing in his eyes.
+
+Kenyon was left the sole master of that little bedroom. As he finished
+dressing he marshalled his thoughts and into them entered the figure of
+a certain very beautiful person who lived in a cottage on the borders of
+his father's estate. Before now she had twisted young men, quite as
+romantic as Peter, out of their engagements to simple little girls. He
+would see that she worked her wiles on Peter. He didn't intend that his
+friend should devote himself to any person except Nicholas Kenyon so
+long as he could prevent it.
+
+
+X
+
+It was a rather curious meal,--this final breakfast at the Randolph
+Hotel. There were several under-currents of feeling which seemed to
+disturb the atmosphere like cross winds. The Doctor and Mrs. Guthrie
+were genuinely sorry that the week had come to an end. It was one which
+would be filled with memories. Graham would very willingly have remained
+at Oxford as long as Kenyon did. He had fallen a complete victim to the
+attractions of this master of psychology. He regarded him as the very
+last word in expert worldliness. He paid him the highest tribute that he
+considered it was possible for one man to pay another, by calling him "a
+good sport," and he looked forward with enormous pleasure to the time
+when he would be able to show Kenyon the night side of New York, with
+which he had himself begun to be well acquainted.
+
+As to the two girls, wonderful things had happened to both of them
+during that emotional, stirring, picturesque and altogether "different"
+week. It seemed almost incredible to them they had been in that old town
+for so short a time, during which, however, their little plans--their
+girlish point of view--had undergone absolute revolution. The
+high-spirited Belle, who had hitherto gone through life with a
+consistent exuberance and rather thoughtless joy, was rendered
+uncharacteristically serious at the knowledge that she would not see
+Nicholas Kenyon again for some months. Not for a moment did she regret
+the fact that she had fallen badly in love with him. It was a new
+sensation for her, and young as she was, it was the new thing that
+counted. Her mind was filled with dreams. In imagination she walked from
+one series of pictures into another and all were touched with
+excitement, exhilaration and a sense of having won something, the
+possession of which all her friends would envy her.
+
+In going over in her mind all that Kenyon had said to her, she could
+not put her finger on any actual declaration on his part; but his subtle
+assumption of possession, the way in which he touched her hand and
+looked at her over other people's heads with eyes which seemed to
+embrace her, seemed to her to be far more satisfactory than any
+conventional set of words ordinary under such circumstances. Then, too,
+there was that wonderful and sudden kiss on the landing stage in the
+shadow. Why, there was no doubt about it. She had, like Caesar, come and
+seen and conquered. She was to be the Hon. Mrs. Nicholas Kenyon,
+daughter-in-law of Lord Shropshire, of Thrapstone-Wynyates. What a
+delightful surprise for father and mother, and how proud they would be
+of her!
+
+Betty knew that Peter intended to make her his wife. She knew it and was
+happy. His very incoherence had been more eloquent to her than the
+well-rounded sentences of all the heroes of her favorite novels, and if
+he never said another word before she left, she would be satisfied. In
+her heart there was the sensation of one who had come to the end of a
+long road and now stood in a great wide open space on which the sun fell
+warmly and with great beauty.
+
+Not much was said by anyone, and the question of the afternoon train
+which was to leave at four-thirty was consistently avoided by them all.
+
+Breakfast over, the whole party followed Kenyon into the street, where
+two cars were waiting for the trip to Woodstock. They were to lunch at
+the old inn which stood beneath the gnarled branches of the oaks that
+had sheltered the Round Heads and Royalists. The first car was Kenyon's
+roadster, in which he placed Mrs. Guthrie, the Doctor and Graham. He had
+intended that Betty should sit by his side as he drove, and that Peter
+should take Belle in his two-seater. But Master Peter was too quick for
+him this time. He had touched Betty on the arm and said: "You're coming
+with me." And before Kenyon could frame a sentence to break up this
+arrangement these two were off together with the complete disregard for
+speed limits which was peculiar to the Oxford undergraduate. Kenyon had
+the honesty to say about this to himself that it was well done, but all
+the same he was immensely annoyed. As he drove off with Belle on the
+front seat he was not, for at least a mile, a very talkative companion.
+Belle put his silence down to the fact that she was going away that
+afternoon.
+
+Along St. Giles, past the burial ground, the Roman Catholic Church,
+Somerville, and into the Woodstock road as far as the Radcliffe
+Infirmary, Peter kept the lead, and then the big car overtook him and
+left him behind. Graham waved his hand and shouted something which Peter
+didn't catch. It was probably facetious. As far as Wolvercote Peter kept
+in touch with the car in front, when he began to fall gradually behind.
+He had a plan in the back of his head.
+
+The morning seemed to suit all that he had to say, if he found himself
+able to say it. The earth was warm with the sun. The hedges and trees
+were still in the first fresh vigor of early summer. Everywhere birds
+sang and were busy with their young.
+
+Peter pulled up short at the edge of a spinney. "Let's get out of
+here," he said, "I want to show you a corking little bit of country."
+And Betty obeyed without a word. She rather liked being ordered about by
+this big square-shouldered person.
+
+They didn't go far,--hardly, in fact, fifty yards from the car,--and
+when they came to a small opening among the beeches where bracken grew
+and "bread and cheese" covered the soft turf with their little yellow
+heads, Peter said: "Sit down; I want to speak to you."
+
+And again Betty obeyed without a word. It was coming--she knew that it
+was coming--and the only thing she was afraid about was that Peter would
+hear the quick beat of her heart.
+
+He laid himself full stretch at her feet, threw off his cap and ran his
+fingers through his hair. "You know this place," he said.
+
+"I? No, I've never been here before."
+
+"Yes, you have. You've been here with your friends. They come out every
+night from the first of May until the first of October. Can't you see
+the marks their feet have made as they danced here in the ring? It's
+awfully queer. This is the first place I came to after I got to
+Oxford--all the leaves were red--and I sat here one afternoon alone and
+wondered how long it would be before I should look up and see you. I've
+often come here since, winter and summer, and listened for sticks to
+crackle as you came along through the trees to find me. Why don't you
+laugh?"
+
+"Why should I?"
+
+"I knew you wouldn't. If you had it wouldn't have been you."
+
+He turned himself round on to his elbows and looked up at her, and
+remained looking and looking. And Betty looked back. Her heart was
+beating so loudly that it seemed to her that someone was whacking a
+carpet somewhere with a stick. She wondered whether she would be able to
+hear Peter when he spoke again,--if ever he did.
+
+And Peter said: "I'm going to begin to be a man exactly five months from
+to-day. That is to say, I'm going into a law office in New York to make
+a beginning. I'm going to work like the dickens. Do you know why?"
+
+Betty shook her head and then nodded. He was a long time coming to the
+point. If he wasn't quick she'd simply have to scream. Her heart was up
+in her throat--it was most uncomfortable.
+
+Peter went on. Somehow words came easy to him. The earth was so friendly
+and so motherly and so very kind, and after all this was his spot and
+she was there at last. "I forget the number of the house," he said, "but
+up on the eighth floor of it, facing south, there's a most corking
+apartment. The rooms are large and can be filled with big furniture and
+enormous book-cases. I'm going to work to get that. I don't know how
+long it'll take, but I'm going to ask you to help me to get it. Will
+you?"
+
+Betty nodded again. Someone was beating the carpet in a most violent
+manner.
+
+Peter, without another word, sprang up, put two large strong hands
+under Betty's elbows and set her on her feet. She came up to the top
+button of his coat and he held her there tight and it hurt her cheek.
+But oh, how fine and broad the chest was behind it and how good it was
+to nestle there. She heard him say much that she forgot then, but
+remembered afterwards--simple boyish things expressed with deep
+sincerity and a sort of throb--outpourings of pent-up feelings--not in
+the very least incoherent, but all definite and very good. And there
+they stayed for what appeared to be a long time. The man with the carpet
+had gone away, but without looking up Betty knew that there were
+hundreds of little people dancing around them in the ring and the little
+clearing full of the yellow heads of wild flowers seemed to have become
+that great open space and out of it, between an avenue of old trees,
+stretched the wide road which led to,--the word was the only one in the
+song that filled her brain,--motherhood! Motherhood!
+
+A rabbit ran past them frightened, and Betty sprang away. "Peter! What
+will the others say?"
+
+Peter shook himself and his great laugh awoke the echoes of the woods.
+"I don't care what anybody says," he answered. "Do you?"
+
+"Yes. Let's go. We shall be late for lunch."
+
+And Peter picked her up, carried her to the car, kissed her, put her in,
+and drove away.
+
+
+XI
+
+Peter and Kenyon left the station arm in arm. They had watched the train
+round the corner and disappear. Many hands had waved to the crowd of
+undergraduates who had come to see their people and friends off. Peter
+had stood bareheaded with his hand still tingling with the touch of
+Betty's.
+
+They walked slowly back to college, each busy with his thoughts.
+Exultation filled Peter's mind. Kenyon was wondering how much he could
+touch Peter for. In the procession of returning undergraduates they made
+their way under the railway bridge and along the sun-bathed but rather
+slummy cobblestone road over which the tram-cars ran. They passed the
+row of little red brick houses--most of which were shops--and the
+factory, stammering smoke, and turned into the back way which led by a
+short cut to Worcester.
+
+Oxford had resumed her normal atmosphere. Fathers and mothers, uncles,
+guardians, brothers, sisters and cousins, who had all descended upon the
+town, had departed. No longer were the old winding streets set alight by
+the many colored frocks of pretty girls, nor were they any longer
+stirred into a temporary bustle by the great influx of motor-cars.
+Undergraduates held possession once more and with their peculiar
+adaptability were making hasty preparations for the long vacation.
+
+Peter led the way to his sitter, loaded his inevitable pipe, and sat in
+the sun on the sill of the open window. With fastidious care Kenyon
+stuck a cigarette into a long meerschaum holder and laid himself down on
+the settee. He had worked very hard during the week and had very much
+more than carried out his promise to Peter to make himself pleasant. The
+moment had come when he might certainly lead the way up to his reward.
+
+Peter took the words out of his friend's mouth. "What d'you think?" he
+said. "When I was saying good-bye to the Governor on the platform he
+took me aside and gave me a cheque. He did it in his curious apologetic
+way which always makes me feel that he's someone else's father, and
+said: 'I think this will see you through for a month or two.' Gee! It's
+some cheque, Nick! I don't think I shall have to touch the old man down
+for another bob until I have to book my passage. His generosity leaves
+me wordless. I wish to God I'd been able to say something nice. As it
+was, I had to tell mother to thank him for me." He went over to his
+desk, fished out a cheque-book, sat down and made one out in his large
+round boyish handwriting.
+
+Kenyon watched him intently. He hoped that it might be for himself and
+for fifty sovereigns. That amount, carefully split up, would keep some
+of his more pressing tradesmen quiet for a short time.
+
+"Is this any good to you, old man?" said Peter. He dropped the cheque on
+to Kenyon's immaculate waistcoat. It was for a hundred pounds.
+
+The master parasite was taken by surprise almost for the first time in
+his life and he was sincerely touched by this generosity. "My dear old
+Peter! This is really devilish kind of you! I'm exceedingly grateful. My
+exit from Oxford can now be made with a certain amount of dignity. I'll
+add this amount to your other advances, and you must trust in God and my
+luck at cards to get it back."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," said Peter. "You'd have done the same for me.
+What's the good of friendship anyway if a man can't share his bonuses
+with a pal? Well, well! There goes another Commem:--the last of them for
+us. Everything seems awfully flat here without,--without my people. What
+d'you think of the Governor?"
+
+Kenyon folded the cheque neatly and slipped it into a small leather case
+upon which his crest was embossed in gold. It was one of the numerous
+nice things for which he owed. "Your father," he said, "is a very
+considerable man. I made a careful study of him and I've come to the
+conclusion that all he needs from you and Graham is human treatment. If
+he were my father I should buy a metaphorical chisel and an easily
+manipulated hammer and chip off all his shyness bit by bit as though it
+were concrete. Properly managed there's enough in Dr. Guthrie to keep
+you in comfort for the rest of your life without doing a stroke of work.
+What age is he--somewhere about fifty-three I suppose? In all human
+probability he is good--barring accidents--for another fifteen years or
+so. Then, duly mourned, and, I take it, considerably paragraphed in your
+newspapers, he will go to his long rest and you will come into your
+own. With even quite ordinary diplomacy you can use those fifteen years
+to considerable advantage to yourself,--dallying gently with life and
+adding considerably to your experience, making your headquarters at his
+house. You can do the semblance of work in order to satisfy his rather
+puritanical notion,--but I can't see that there'll be any need for you
+to sweat. For instance, become a poet--that's easy. There are stacks of
+sonneteers whom you could imitate. Or you could call yourself a literary
+man and do nothing more than establish a sanctum-sanctorum in which to
+keep a neat pile of well-bound manuscript books and acquire a library.
+If I were you I should adopt the latter course--it sounds well. It'll
+satisfy the old man and all the while you're not writing the great book
+he'll pat himself on the back and congratulate himself on having had you
+properly educated. During all this time you can draw from him a very
+nice yearly income, and then make your splash when nature has laid her
+relentless hand upon the old man's shoulder."
+
+There was a moment's pause, during which Peter looked very curiously at
+the graceful indolent man who lay upon his settee. "If I didn't know
+that you were talking for effect," he said, "I should take you by the
+scruff of your neck and the seat of your breeches and hurl you
+down-stairs. I know you better than to believe that you are the
+cold-blooded brute that you make yourself out to be. Anyhow, we'll not
+discuss the matter. The one useful thing you have said--and on which I
+shall try to act--is that Graham and I must try to be more human with
+the Governor. He deserves it. What's the program?"
+
+"For me," said Kenyon, "dinner with Lascelles and bridge to the early
+hours. With good cards and a fairly good partner I shall hope to make a
+bit. What are you going to do?"
+
+"I shall dine in Hall," said Peter, "and then go out for a walk."
+
+"I see." Kenyon got up, filled his cigarette case from Peter's box and
+stood with his back to the mantel-piece. "You proposed to Betty to-day,
+didn't you?"
+
+"How the deuce did you know that?"
+
+Kenyon laughed. "My dear fellow," he said, "everybody knows that. You
+exuded romance when you arrived late at the Inn. The very waiter guessed
+it, and was so stirred, being Swiss, that he very nearly poured the soup
+down your mother's neck. And when your mother looked at you I saw
+something come into her eyes which showed me that she knew she had lost
+you. I wouldn't be a mother if you paid me!" And then he held out his
+hand with that charm of which he was past-master. "'Friend that sticketh
+closer than a brother,' three years; dashed bit of a slip of a girl, one
+week,--and where's your friend? Well, good luck, Peter! She's a nice
+little thing. Dream your dreams, old boy, but don't altogether forget
+the man who's been through Oxford with you."
+
+Peter grasped the hand warmly. "Don't be an ass!" he said. "Go and brush
+your back hair. It's all sticking up."
+
+And when he was alone, except for a golden patch of evening sun which
+had found its way through his window and had spilt itself on his carpet,
+Peter pulled out a little white glove from his pocket and kissed it.
+
+"O God!" he said. "Help me to become a man."
+
+
+XII
+
+No one knew, because no one was told, of the many hours of grief which
+little Mrs. Guthrie endured after she left Oxford. There were two
+reasons for this grief. One, the inevitable realization that the time
+had come for some other woman to take her place with her son. She
+remained his mother, but she was no longer first. The other, that Peter
+had not told her about Betty at once and had left it for her to find
+out, as the others did. And this hurt badly. He had always been in the
+habit of telling her everything,--first at her knee, then as he stood on
+a level with her, and finally when he looked down upon her from his
+great height. Every one of his numerous letters written while he was so
+far away from home contained the outpourings of his soul--his troubles,
+difficulties, triumphs, wonderings and short incoherent cries for help.
+As Kenyon said, she had only to look at him once when he marched into
+the Old Inn at Woodstock with Betty to know that she had lost him. She
+waited for him that afternoon to tell her,--but he never spoke. Even as
+he put her into the train she hoped that he would remember, but he
+didn't. That wasn't like her Peter, she told herself again and again.
+What was she to think but that it only needed one short week and a very
+pretty face to make him forget all the long years of her love and
+tenderness. It was very, very hard.
+
+It is true that for the remainder of their holiday, during which, with
+her husband, Graham, Belle, and Betty, Mrs. Guthrie went from one
+charming place to another, seeing shrines and looking down from famous
+heights on garden-like valleys of English country, Peter's letters came
+as regularly as usual. They were no shorter and no less intimate; and in
+the first one that she received, the day after leaving Oxford, he told
+her his great news,--but he hadn't spoken of it--he hadn't come to her
+at once, and she felt with a great shock of pain that she was deposed.
+Also she was well aware of the fact that the same posts which brought
+her letters brought letters to Betty--and she was jealous.
+
+Uttering no word of complaint, even to the Doctor, little Mrs. Guthrie
+nursed her sorrow and went out of her way to be very nice to Betty. Her
+mother-instinct told her that she must win this girl; otherwise there
+was a chance that she might in the future see very little of Peter. In
+all this she had one small triumph, of which she made the most. Her
+letters from Peter contained more news than those written to Betty, and
+thus she was able to score a little over the girl. With an air of great
+superiority, very natural under the circumstances, she told Betty and
+the others the manner in which Peter had gone down from Oxford; of the
+dinner that was given to him by the American Club,--a great evening,
+during which he was presented with a silver cigarette box covered with
+signatures,--of the farewell luncheon with his professors and the
+delightful things that they said to him there; of his strenuous doings
+at Henley, the stern training, the race itself in which his boat was
+beaten; of the wild night on the Vanderbilt barge; of the few cheery
+days spent in London with a bunch of the Rhodesmen; and finally his
+preparations for his visit to Thrapstone-Wynyates, in Shropshire, the
+famous old Tudor House of Kenyon's father.
+
+Three times during these pleasant weeks Peter ran down to see,--not her,
+but Betty, and went out with her with his face alight and then hurried
+back to his engagements, having given her, his mother, who loved him so,
+several hugs and a few incoherent words. It was the way of life, youth
+to youth, but it was very hard.
+
+On the afternoon of the fifth of August, when the party crossed the
+gangplank at Southampton to go aboard the _Olympic_, little Mrs. Guthrie
+told herself that in a few minutes she would see Peter's great form
+elbowing through the crowd, although he had not said that he would be
+there to say good-bye. She almost hoped that something might prevent him
+from being in time, because she knew that he would not come solely to
+hold her in his arms, but for another reason. Nothing, however, did
+prevent him. He followed them almost instantly on board; and although he
+never left her side, he surreptitiously held Betty's hand all the time.
+
+A smile of unusual bitterness crept all about the little woman's heart.
+It was very hard. He was her boy--her son--her first-born and the apple
+of her eye. She had come up for the first time to one of the rudest
+awakenings that a mother can ever know. And presently when the cry, "All
+ashore that's going ashore!" went up and Peter put both his big arms
+about her and said, "Good-bye, mummie, darling, I shall come home soon,"
+she broke into such a fit of weeping and kissed him with a passion so
+great that the boy was startled and a little frightened. There was no
+time to think or ask questions. There was his father's hand to shake,
+and Graham's, and Belle to kiss. There was also Betty, and she was
+suddenly hugged before them all.
+
+As the big liner sent out its raucous note of departure and moved away
+from the dock the little mother was unable to see the bare head of her
+boy above the heads of the great crowd. Her eyes were blinded. "He
+doesn't understand," she said to herself. "He doesn't understand."
+
+Poor little mother! It was very hard.
+
+
+XIII
+
+The cottage on the borders of Lord Shropshire's park was just as pretty
+and just as small as the little lady who lived there. It was
+appropriately called "The Nest," although there was no male bird in it
+and it was devoid of young ones; but Mrs. Randolph Lennox was so like a
+bird, with her trilly soprano voice, her quick dartings here and there
+and the peculiar way she had of getting all a-flutter when people
+called, that the name of her charming little place--first given by
+Kenyon--stuck, and was generally used.
+
+It was perched up on high ground overlooking the gardens of the old
+Tudor House,--those wonderful Italian gardens in which Charles II had
+dallied with his mistresses on his return from his long, heart-breaking
+and hungry exile. It was tree-surrounded and creepers grew up its old
+walls to its thickly thatched roof. For many years it had been occupied
+by the agent of the estate, until--so it was said--it was won by Mrs.
+Lennox from the present Lord Shropshire as the result of a bet.
+
+No one had ever seen Randolph Lennox and many people didn't believe that
+he was anything more than a myth; but the little woman gave herself out
+as the widow of this man and was accepted as such. Her income was small,
+but not so small as to preclude her from playing bridge for fairly large
+stakes, dressing exquisitely, riding to the hounds and keeping an
+extremely efficient menage, consisting of two maid servants and an
+elderly gardener. It enabled her also to spend May and June in London
+yearly at a little hotel in Half Moon Street, Piccadilly, from which
+utterly correct little house she was taken nightly to dinner and to the
+theatre by one or other of the numerous young men who formed her
+entourage. Never taken actually into the heart of London society, she
+managed with quiet skill to attach herself to its rather long limbs,
+and her name was frequently to be found in the columns of society papers
+as having been seen in a creation by Paquin or Macinka at Ranalagh or
+Hurlingham, the opera, or lunching at the Ritz.
+
+At one time the tongue of rumor had been very busy about Mrs. Randolph
+Lennox,--"Baby" Lennox as she was commonly called. It was said that she
+had been lifted out of the chorus of the Gaiety at the age of nineteen
+by His Serene Highness, the Prince of Booch-Kehah; that she had passed
+under the control of Captain Harry Waterloo, and eventually, before
+disappearing for a time, figured in the Divorce Court as a
+correspondent. The tongue of rumor is, however, in the mouth of Ananias,
+and as Baby Lennox never spoke of herself except, a little sadly, as a
+woman whose brief married life was an unfortunate memory, her past
+remained a mystery and people were obliged to accept her for her present
+and her future. She was so small--so golden-haired--so large eyed--so
+fresh and young and dainty--so consistently charming and birdlike--that
+she was the Mecca of very young men. With the beautiful trustfulness of
+the male young they believed in her, and over and over again she could
+have changed her name to others which were equally euphonious and which,
+unlike her own, could be discovered in the Red Book. But as there was no
+money attached to them she continued to remain a young and interesting
+widow and to live in the little cottage on the hill and to pop in and
+out of the Shropshire house as the most popular member of its
+kaleidoscopic parties.
+
+Whether there was any truth in the story that the present Lord
+Shropshire was related to her in a fatherly way no one will ever know,
+except perhaps Nicholas Kenyon, who in his treatment of her was
+uncharacteristically brotherly. These two, at any rate, had no secrets
+from each other and both regarded life from the same peculiar angle. As
+parasites they had everything in common and they assisted each other and
+played into each other's hands with a loyalty that was praiseworthy even
+under these circumstances.
+
+Nicholas Kenyon's mother--a very large, handsome woman with brilliant
+teeth and amazing good-nature, who, even when in the best of health,
+never finished dressing till four o'clock in the afternoon and then
+never put much on--was undergoing a rest-cure in the west wing of
+Thrapstone-Wynyates when the boys arrived for the shooting. For nearly a
+year she had been playing auction every night until the very small hours
+and had, while in a nervous condition, stumbled across an emotional
+pamphlet written by a Welsh revivalist, which sent her straight to bed.
+She was really greatly shaken by it and perhaps a little bit frightened.
+It did not mince words about the future of women of her type, and she
+was shocked. Heaven seemed to her to be a place into which she had the
+same inherited right to walk as the Royal Enclosure at Ascot; but this
+vehement little book put a widely different point of view before her.
+Therefore it happened that the first woman to whom Peter was introduced
+was the little widow, "Baby" Lennox, who was acting as hostess.
+
+Two evenings before she met Peter she had received a letter from Kenyon,
+which ran as follows:
+
+    Carlton Hotel,
+    Dear Old Girl:
+     I shall turn up at home on Thursday in time for tea. I hear
+     that mother is enjoying herself in the throes of some very
+     pleasant imaginary complaint of sorts and has retired to the
+     solitude of the west wing. After a busy season she no doubt
+     wishes to read Wells' new novel of socialism and seduction and
+     the latest Masefield poems, which always remind me of the
+     ramblings of rum-soaked sailors in a Portsmouth pub. I, for
+     one, shall miss her florid and inaccurate presence and the
+     deliciously flagrant way in which she cheats at Bridge; but if
+     father has gathered round him an August house-party on his
+     usual lines, I look forward to a cheery time,--dog eating dog,
+     if I may put it like that. I am bringing with me the man with
+     whom I have shared rooms at Oxford,--Peter Guthrie. He's the
+     American of whom I have spoken to you before. I am especially
+     anxious for him to meet you, because, while under the hypnotic
+     influence of Oxford in all the beauty of late spring, he has
+     been fool enough to get himself engaged. Now, not only is
+     Guthrie very useful to me, having a wealthy father and being
+     himself a generous soul, but I am going to New York with him in
+     October to see if that city can be made to render up some of
+     its unlimited dollars, and I don't want him to be hanging,
+     booby-eyed, at the heels of a girl until such time as I have
+     found my feet. You have a wonderful way with the very young and
+     unsophisticated and I shall really be enormously obliged if you
+     will work your never-failing wiles on my most useful friend and
+     draw his at present infatuated mind away from the nice,
+     harmless little girl who has just sailed. Fasten on him, my
+     dear, and make him attach himself to you for the remainder of
+     our holiday. Go as far as you dare or care,--the farther the
+     better for my sake and eventually for his own. He is one of
+     those admirable, simple, big, virgin men to whom women are a
+     wonderful mystery. At present he has refused even to look
+     through a glass, darkly, at that pleasant and compensating side
+     of life, and he needs to be brought down from his self-made
+     pedestal. It will do him good and me a service. Honestly, I
+     find it more than a little trying to be in such close
+     association with an Archangel. Turn your innocent blue eyes on
+     him, Baby dear, and teach him things and, above all, get him
+     out of this silly, sentimental tangle of his. Incidentally, he
+     has money and can procure more and I feel sure that you will
+     not find him a waste of your good efforts. He is a splendid
+     specimen of what my particular Don was wont to call 'young
+     manhood,' and when he plays ragtime he puts the Savoy, or, for
+     the matter of that, any other English orchestra into a little
+     round hole.
+                                                 Yours ever,
+                                                           N. K.
+
+Quite unconscious of this scheme, Peter fell into the light-heartedness
+of this beautiful old house with his usual gusto. To his unsuspicious
+eyes Baby Lennox was quite the most charming woman he had ever met.
+
+He was delighted, a little surprised and even a little jealous at the
+relations which existed between Kenyon and his father. He was quick to
+notice that they treated each other more like pals or brothers, than
+father and son, were entirely open and frank with each other, walked
+about arm in arm, played tennis and billiards together and often spent
+hours in each other's society, laughing and talking. He noticed, too,
+that Kenyon always called his father "Tops," a name which had grown into
+daily use from the time when, as a tiny lad just able to talk, the
+things that most caught his fancy were Lord Shropshire's riding-boots,
+in which he seemed to live, being mostly on horseback. "Nicko" was what
+his father called Kenyon,--that and old man or old boy. He wished most
+deeply that he and his own father were on such good terms.
+
+If Peter had heard the sort of things these two talked about and
+confided to each other, his surprise would have elaborated into
+amazement. The elder man took infinite pleasure in telling the one who
+was so complete a chip off the same block the most minute details of his
+love affairs during the time that he was at Sandhurst for his army
+training, while he was in a crack Cavalry regiment and while he knocked
+about London and Paris and Vienna before and after his marriage. Also he
+revelled in relating his racing and gambling experiences, describing the
+more shady episodes with witty phrases and a touch of satire that was
+highly entertaining to the younger man. They both agreed, with a
+paradoxical sort of honesty, deliberately and inherently, that they were
+not straight and accepted each other as such, and the father used
+frequently to speculate from which of his dull, responsible and worthy
+ancestors he acquired the tendency. It was certainly not from the late
+Lord Shropshire, whose brilliant work as a Cabinet Minister in several
+Governments and as one of the most valued advisers of Queen Victoria
+had placed his name permanently in the annals of his country. "We get it
+from one of the women of the family, I suspect, Nicko," he had a way of
+saying, after a more than usually excellent dinner. "A dear, pretty
+creature who lived a double life with delightful finesse--the great lady
+and the human woman by turns. What d'you think, old boy? At any rate,
+you and I make no pretences and, 'pon my soul! I don't know which of us
+is the better exponent in the delicate and difficult art of sleight of
+hand. I wish I were going to America with you. I fancy that we should
+make in double harness enough to enable us to retire from the game and
+live like little gentlemen. As it is, you'll do very well, I've no
+doubt. From what I hear, the country reeks with wealthy young men
+waiting to be touched by an expert such as you are. Do some good work,
+old fellow, and when you come back you shall lend me a portion of your
+earnings, eh?"
+
+They were a strange couple, these two, capable, outwardly charming and
+cut out for a very different way of life but for the regrettable
+possession of a kink which caused them to become harpies and turn the
+weaknesses of unsuspicion of human nature to their own advantage. Some
+psychologists might have gone out of their way to find excuses for these
+men and endeavor to prove that they would both have run straight but for
+the fact that they were always pushed for money. They would, however,
+have been wrong. Just as some men are born orators, some with mechanical
+and creative genius and some with the gift of leadership, these two men
+were born crooked, and under no conditions, even the most favorable,
+could they have played any game according to the rules.
+
+The men of the party were all excellent sportsmen and good fellows, and
+the women more than usually delightful representatives of English
+society. As a matter of fact, the men were all,--like Kenyon's
+father,--living on their wits and just avoiding criminal prosecution by
+the eighth of an inch. They called themselves racing men, which,
+translated into cold English, means that they were people of no
+ostensible means of livelihood, who attended every race meeting and
+backed horses on credit, taking their winnings and owing their losses
+until chased by crook solicitors. They all bore names well known in
+English history. They had all passed through the best schools and either
+Oxford, Cambridge or Sandhurst. One or two of them were still in the
+army. One had been requested to resign from the navy, the King having no
+further use for his services, and one was a Member of Parliament, having
+previously been hammered in the other house,--that is to say the Stock
+Exchange. The women of the party were either wives of these men or not,
+as the case may be. At any rate they were good to look at, amusing to
+talk to, and apparently without a care in the world. And if Lord
+Shropshire, in welcoming Peter to his famous house, had said, like the
+spider to the fly, "Come into my parlor so that whatever you have about
+you may be sucked dry by us," he would have been strictly truthful.
+Several other such men as Peter had gone into that web sound and whole,
+but they had come out again with many things to regret and forget.
+
+Who could say whether Peter would escape?
+
+
+XIV
+
+Peter had, as he duly reported to his mother and to Betty, a corking
+time at Thrapstone-Wynyates.
+
+Although an open-air man, an athlete, whose reading had always been
+confined to those books only that were necessary to his work,--dry law
+books for the most part,--Peter was far from being insensible to the
+mellow beauty of the house, and his imagination, uncultivated so far as
+any training in art or architecture went, was subconsciously stirred by
+the knowledge that its floors and stone walks and galleries were worn by
+the feet of a long line of men and women whose loves and passions and
+hatreds had been worked out there and whose ghostly forms in all the
+picturesque trappings of several centuries haunted its echoing Hall and
+looked down from its walls, from their places in gold frames, upon its
+present occupants.
+
+The atmosphere of Oxford, and especially of his own college, had often
+spun his thoughts from rowing and other strenuous, splendid, vital
+things, to the great silent army of dead men whose shouts had rung
+through the quad and whose rushing feet had gone under the old gate. But
+this house, standing bravely and with an indescribable sense of
+responsibility as one of the few rear-guards of those great days of
+chivalry and gallant fighting for heroic causes, moved him differently.
+Here women had been and their perfume seemed to hang to the tapestries,
+and the influence of their hands that could no longer touch was
+everywhere apparent. Often Peter drew up short, on his way up the wide
+staircase, to listen for the click of high heels, the tinkle of a spinet
+and the rattle of dice. Everywhere he went he had a queer but not
+unpleasant sense of never being alone, just as most men have who walk
+along the cloisters of a cathedral whose vast array of empty prie-dieus
+have felt the knees of many generations and in whose lofty roof there is
+collected the voices of an unnumberable choir.
+
+Up early enough to find the dew still wet on flowers and turf he enjoyed
+a swim every morning in the Italian bathing pool beneath the Cedar trees
+with Baby Lennox. Then he either went for a gallop, before breakfast, on
+one of Lord Shropshire's ponies--again with Baby Lennox--or had a round
+of golf with her on the workmanlike nine-hole course which had been laid
+out in the park. She played a neat game, driving straight, approaching
+deftly and putting like a book,--frequently beating him.
+
+The picture of this very pretty little person as she stood on the edge
+of the bathing pool that first morning was, as she intended it to be,
+indescribably attractive. She came from her room in a white kimono
+worked with the beautiful designs which only the Chinese can achieve.
+Her golden hair was closely covered by a tight-fitting bathing cap of
+geranium red, most becoming to her white skin. "Mr. Peter!" she called
+out. "I can't swim a bit, so you must look after me like--like a
+brother." And then, as though to show how silly that word was, she flung
+off the wrap and stood, all slim and sweet, in blue silk tights cut low
+at the neck and high above her little round white knees. Peter thought,
+with a kind of boyish gasp, that she looked like a most alluring drawing
+on the cover of a magazine. With an irresistible simplicity and utter
+lack of self-consciousness she stood, balanced on the edge of the pool,
+with the sun embracing her, in a diving attitude, in no hurry to take
+her dip. And when Peter, suddenly seized with the notion that he might
+be looking at her too intently, dived in, she gave a little cry of joy
+and dismay and jumped in after him. "You must hold me, you must hold me,
+or I shall go under!" she cried, and he swam with her to the steps. In
+reality she swam like a frog, but her beautiful assumption of inability
+and her pluck in jumping into deep water again and again to be taken
+possession of by him, filled him with admiration at her courage. With
+her tights wet and clinging and the water glistening on her white flesh
+she assured herself that she deserved admiration, having carefully
+calculated her effect. Practice makes perfect, and the very young are
+always alike.
+
+The first morning on which she appeared in riding kit she again made a
+charming picture. She always rode astride, but few women would have
+ventured to wear such thin and such close-fitting white breeches. Her
+coat, cut like a man's, was of white drill. Her stock was white and her
+hat, with a wide flat brim was of white straw, but her boots were as
+black and shiny as the back of a crow. "Your hand, Mr. Peter," she said,
+raising her little foot for the spring,--it was "Mr. Peter"
+still,--"what a gorgeous morning for a gallop." And for a moment she
+leaned warmly against his shoulder. Yes, she was quite pleased with the
+effect. Peter's face was flushed as they started off together.
+
+When they golfed she had a delightful way of making her conversation
+from green to green into a sort of serial. With her head hatless, her
+short Irish homespun skirt displaying much blue stocking which exactly
+matched her silk sweater and her large befringed eyes, she made a
+fascinating opponent and companion. "No wonder you loved Oxford and all
+that it gave you. Quite a little tee, please. Thanks. To a man with any
+imagination--" A settle, a swing, a nice straight ball and silence while
+Peter beat his ball pressing for all he was worth; the picking up of the
+two bags and on side by side. "A man with any imagination must feel the
+beauty and underlying meaning of that inspiring atmosphere,--as of
+course you did. You, I can see, are highly susceptible to everything
+that is beautiful. You, I think, of all men, you who have managed to
+remain,--I'm sure I don't know how!--so unspoiled, will always remember
+and feel the influence of your college. A cleek, I think, don't you? No?
+A brassie? Just as you say." And so she would continue chatting merrily
+away all round, but always keen on her game and doing her best to do it
+credit, letting out nice little bits of flattery with so naive an air
+and with such frankly appreciative glances, that poor old Peter's
+vanity, hitherto absolutely dormant, began to bud, like new leaves in
+April.
+
+It must be remembered that Peter was a rowing man. Always, except when
+out with the guns, he was with Baby Lennox. They were inseparable from
+the first day of his visit. Even in the evening they hunted in couples,
+because she was sick of Bridge, she said, and he gave out that he knew
+nothing at all about any card games and had no desire to learn. After
+being frequently pressed to cut in by Courthope, Pulsford, Fountain and
+the other men who could not bear to see him with an unscathed
+cheque-book, and tempted again and again by their well-groomed and
+delightfully friendly wives to try a hand, Peter was left alone. They
+were annoyed and irritated but they found that when Peter said "No" he
+didn't mean "Yes," like so many of the other young men whose weakness
+formed the greater part of these people's income; and so they very
+quickly gave him up to Baby Lennox, were obliged to be satisfied with
+his jovial piano-playing and make up for lost time with the inevitable
+members of the _nouveau riches_ who lived near by and were only too glad
+to pay for the privilege of dining at Thrapstone-Wynyates in the odour
+of titles.
+
+The nights being warm and windless, Peter sat out on the moon-bathed
+terrace with Baby Lennox listening to her girlish prattle and thinking
+how particularly charming she looked with the soft light on her golden
+hair and white arms and dainty foot. Sometimes, suddenly, her merry
+words would give place to sad ones, and Peter's simple, honest heart
+would be touched by her artistic and mythical glimpses of the unhappy
+side of her life.
+
+"Oh, Peter, Peter!" she said one night, unconsciously showing almost a
+yard of leg in a black lace stocking patterned with butterflies. "I
+wish, oh, how I wish that I'd been born like you, under a lucky star!
+I've always been in a smart and rather careless set and I've never
+really had time to see visions and walk in the garden of my soul." She
+spoke in capital letters. "If I'd met you when I was a little young
+thing you might have become my gardener to pluck the weeds out of my
+paths, and train the flowers of my mind. You might have planted seeds so
+sweet that in my best and most devout hours their blooms would have
+filled my thoughts with scent. Oh dear me, the might have beens,--how
+sad they are! But, in one thing at least I can take joy,--I'm all the
+better for knowing you, dear big Peter."
+
+But these graver interludes never lasted long. Mrs. Lennox was far too
+clever for that. She would break the monotony of conversation by walking
+with her little hand on the boy's strong arm, or by dancing with him to
+the music of a gramophone placed in the open window of the morning room.
+How close she clung to him then and how sweet she was to hold!
+
+And then, she would say, with a wonderful throb in her voice. "Oh,
+Peter, Peter! Isn't life wonderful--isn't it just the most wonderful and
+thrilling thing that is given to us? Listen to the stars--there's love
+in their song! Listen to the nightingale--love, all love! Listen to the
+whisper of the breeze! Can't you hear it tell us to love and touch and
+taste all the sweets that are given us to enjoy? Oh, Peter, Peter!
+Listen, listen,--and live!"
+
+In her picturesque and slangy way she announced to Kenyon, as soon as
+three days after the commencement of the house-party, that she "had got
+Peter well hooked." It was not, however, an accurate statement. It is
+true that Peter's vanity had been appealed to. Whose wouldn't have been?
+This attractive young thing was hostess. She was far and away prettier,
+younger, more alluring and more complex than any other woman in the
+party. And yet she had made a favorite of Peter at once and showed a
+frank pleasure in being with him at all possible times. He had hardly
+spoken for longer than an hour with her before she had said, in the
+middle of his description of the Henley week, "I _must_ call you Mr.
+Peter, I _must_. May I?" She sent him little notes, too, charming,
+spontaneous little notes, to say "Good-night," and how greatly she had
+enjoyed the evening, or the swim, or the round of golf, beginning "Dear
+Big Man" and ending,--at first without a signature, and eventually with
+"Baby." At the beginning they were brought in by the man, or placed on
+the dressing-table against a bowl of flowers. Then they were thrust
+under his door by her after he had gone up to his room, or thrown
+through his open window from the narrow balcony that ran round the
+house. Her room was next to his. She had seen to that. In a hundred
+unexpected and appealing ways she had set out to prove to him that they
+were indeed, as she had said they were, "very, very close friends."
+
+Now, Peter had never been a woman's man. To him women and their ways
+were new and wonderful. He suspected nothing. Why should he? He accepted
+Mrs. Randolph Lennox on her face value, which was priceless, as so many
+other excellent and unsophisticated young men had done. He believed in
+her and her stories and was very sorry that she had been unhappy. He
+believed that she was sincere and good and clean and that she liked him
+and was his friend.
+
+Kenyon, who watched all this, called Peter an easy mark. He was. What
+else could he be in the expert and cunning hands of such a woman?
+
+As for Mrs. Lennox, her performance,--it was rather in the nature of a
+performance,--was all the more brilliant and effective because Peter
+appealed to her more than any man she had ever met. His height and
+strength and squareness, his fearless honesty, his unself-conscious
+pride and boyish love of life,--she liked them all. She liked his
+clean-cut healthy face and thick hair and amazing laugh. But, above
+everything, she liked him for being untilled soil, virgin earth. It was
+this that piqued her seriously and set alight in her a desire which grew
+and grew, to test her charms upon him, to taste him, to stir him into a
+first great passion. And this was the real reason that she gave him so
+much of her time and company. The gratification of this desire was the
+thing for which she was working, upon which she had set her mind. Hers
+was not a record of failures. Peter stood a very poor chance of getting
+out whole.
+
+
+XV
+
+Nicholas Kenyon has promised himself that, one of these days, when
+abject poverty forces him to work, he will write a whole book about
+Peter and Baby Lennox, and call it "Another Temptation of St. Anthony."
+
+Not only did Kenyon watch this, to him, rather extraordinary incident,
+with keen interest, but so also did the members of his father's
+house-party, who came to regard Peter as a kind of freak. They all
+knew,--because they were all psychologists,--that Mrs. Lennox was badly
+smitten, as they put it, on this young American. They all knew,--because
+one of the women made it her business to spy,--that their temporary
+hostess was going through all the tricks of her trade to seduce this
+unconscious boy.
+
+The incident provided Lord Shropshire and his friends with endless
+amusement, and bets were made as to how long Peter would hold out. Every
+morning something new was reported to them by the lady who had appointed
+herself to watch. One day it was that Baby had taken Peter to see her
+cottage after dinner and had had a little fainting fit in her bedroom
+while showing him the view from the window. Another that she had twisted
+her ankle on the eighth hole and had been obliged to ask to be carried
+back to the house. There was, however, no evidence, not even of a
+circumstantial nature, to prove that Baby had succeeded. It was
+presently agreed that either Peter was a fool or an angel.
+
+There was one incident, however, which escaped unnoticed,--one of which
+even Kenyon knew nothing. It took place three nights before the party
+broke up.
+
+After a gorgeous day of hard exercise and splendid fresh air, an hour at
+the piano after dinner and his usual talk to Baby under the moon, Peter
+went up to bed at eleven o'clock. He was very sleepy and meant to be up
+earlier than ever in the morning. He didn't say good-night to Kenyon or
+his satirical father. They were, like the others, very seriously at work
+making what money they could. There had been a fairly large dinner-party
+drawn from the surrounding houses, and there were eight bridge tables
+occupied in the large drawing-room. He left Mrs. Lennox in the hall
+looking more delicious than ever and went up to his room to smoke a
+final pipe and look over an illustrated paper before turning in.
+
+His room was large and square and wainscotted, with dull grilled
+ceiling, and an oak floor so old that here and there it slanted badly.
+His bed was a four-poster, deeply carved at the back with the Kenyon
+arms, the motto underneath rather sarcastically being "For God and
+Honour." In front of the fireplace, with its sprawling iron dogs and oak
+setting, there was a long, narrow sofa filled with cushions, and at its
+side a small writing-table on which stood two tall silver candlesticks.
+These gave the room its only light and added to the Rembrandtesque
+atmosphere of it. It was a room which reeked with history and episodes
+of historical romance, love and sudden death. The windows which led to
+the balcony were open and the warm air of a wonderful night puffed in,
+causing the candle flames to move with a gentle rhythmic dignity to and
+fro.
+
+Peter read and smoked for half an hour in his dressing-gown, while
+Quixotic moths flung themselves passionately into the candle-light one
+after another to die for some unexplainable ideal. From the drawing-room
+below a woman's throbbing voice drifted up, singing an Indian love song,
+and when it ceased the whole night was set a quiver by a nightingale's
+outburst of appeal. These things, and the silver wonder of the moon and
+stars, the touch of Mrs. Lennox's soft hand on his lips and the feeling
+and almost psychic undercurrent of strange emotion in that room in which
+so much had taken place, all stirred and thrilled the boy and sent his
+blood racing in his veins.
+
+He stayed up longer than he intended, listening and wondering and
+wishing, for the first time in his life, that he had read poetry, so
+that he could fit some immortal lines to his mood and his surroundings.
+It was this, to him, curious thought which set him laughing and broke
+some of the spell. "Gee!" he said to himself, "can you see me spouting
+Shakespeare or mouthing Byron?" He shied his dressing-gown into the
+sofa, put both flames out with one huge blow and leaped into bed.
+
+Almost instantly he heard his name urgently called. He sat up. Was he
+dreaming? Who should call at that time of night? Could it be Baby? He
+heard the call again. It was nearer. A little shadow fell suddenly upon
+the floor of his room. And then, in the window, with the shaft of
+moonlight all about her, stood Mrs. Lennox.
+
+Peter caught his breath and clambered out of his bed. "What is it?" he
+asked. "What's the matter?"
+
+The woman ran in with a glad cry. "Oh, Peter! I thought you had gone out
+of your room," she whispered, "and I didn't know what to do. I saw a
+hideous figure walk through my wall just after I had put out my light,
+and when it came towards me with long, bony fingers, I rushed out and
+came to you. Oh, hold me, Peter, hold me! I'm terrified and as cold as a
+frog!"
+
+She slipped into his arms, all young and sweet and incoherent, trembling
+like a little bird in a thunder-storm. It was a most calculated piece of
+perfect acting.
+
+Peter's heart seemed to jump into his mouth. The flowing hair of the
+little head that lay on his chest was full of the most intoxicating
+scent.
+
+"I'll--I'll go and see what it is," he said abruptly.
+
+"No, no! Don't go. I can't let you go, Peter. Stay with me!"
+
+"But, if there's a man in your room----"
+
+"It wasn't a man. It was the ghost that belongs to the family. It always
+comes before some dreadful accident. Oh, darling, stay with me! Take
+care of me! I'm terrified!"
+
+She clung to him in a very ecstasy of fright and the closeness and
+warmth of her body sent Peter's brain whirling. He tried to speak, to
+think of something to say, but all his thoughts were in the swirl of a
+mill-stream, and he held her tighter and put his face against her hair,
+while his heart pumped and every preconceived idea, every
+hard-fought-for ideal went crash.
+
+"I love you. I love you, Peter. My Peter!" she whispered. "Who but you
+should shelter me and hold me and keep me in your arms! Keep me with you
+always, night and day. Look into my eyes and see how much you mean to
+me, my man."
+
+She raised her head and stood on tiptoe. The jealous moon had laid its
+light upon her face and her eyes were shining and her lips were parted,
+and the slight silk covering had fallen from her shoulder. The whiteness
+of it dazzled.
+
+"Oh, my God!" said Peter, but as he bent to kiss her mouth, momentarily
+drunk with the touch and scent of her, someone shouted his name and
+thumped on his door, and Mrs. Lennox tore herself away and ran through
+the window like a moon-woman.
+
+The door was flung open. Fountain came in, his voice a little thick. "I
+say, Guthrie, are you getting up early in the morning? 'Cause, if so,
+I'll take you on for nine holes before breakfast. What d'yer say? Goin'
+to get healthy, d'yer see? What?"
+
+Peter found his voice. "All right!" he said.
+
+"Will you? Good man. Give me a call at six, will you? We'll bathe in the
+pool before coming in. So long then." And out he went again, lurching a
+little and banging the door behind him.
+
+For several queer minutes Peter stood swaying, with his breath nearly
+gone as though he had been rowing, and one big hand on his throbbing
+head. And as he stood there the posts of the bed seemed to turn into
+trees and its cover into soft grass all alive with the yellow heads of
+"bread and cheese," and among them sat Betty, with her eyes full of
+love, confidence and implicit faith,--Betty, for whom he had saved
+himself.
+
+And then he started walking about the room. Up and down he went--up and
+down--cursing himself and his weakness which had nearly smashed his
+dream and put his loyalty into the dust.
+
+And when,--she also had cursed,--Mrs. Lennox stole back, as sweet and
+alluring as ever, and even more determined, she found that Peter had
+re-lit his candles, got into his dressing-gown again and was sitting at
+the table writing.
+
+"Peter! Peter!" she called.
+
+But he didn't hear.
+
+"Peter!" she whispered, and went nearer and nearer until her body rested
+against his shoulder.
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon," he said, rising. "Is it all right now? That's
+fine. It's just a touch cold. Don't you think you'd better be in bed?"
+
+Baby Lennox had seen the beginning of the letter, "My own Betty." She
+nodded, drew back her upper lip in a queer smile and turned and went.
+She was clever enough to know that she had lost.
+
+And then Peter bent again over his letter, and in writing to the little
+girl whom he adored with all his heart, he was safe.
+
+
+
+
+PART TWO
+
+THE CITY
+
+
+I
+
+"Mother took the car to Lord & Taylor's," said Belle, looking herself
+over in the long glass with a scrutiny that was eventually entirely
+favorable. "I guess it'll do us good to walk."
+
+"I'd simply love to," said Betty. "But I must just run in and tell
+father I'm going to have dinner with you. I won't be a minute."
+
+"All right, my dear. Time's cheap. Don't hurry on my account."
+
+Belle went over to the dressing-table. She had only recently powdered
+her nose from the elaborate apparatus from which she rarely permitted
+herself to be separated, but a little more would do no harm. She burst
+into involuntary song as she performed a trick which she might so well
+have afforded to leave to those ladies of doubtful summers to whose Anno
+Domini complexions the thick disguise of powder may perhaps be useful.
+Tucked into her blouse there was a letter from Kenyon which had come a
+week ago. It was only a matter of days before she was to see him again.
+
+And Betty ran out of her bedroom and along a passage which led to the
+studio. A stretch of cloudless sky could be seen through a recess
+window, and the far-below flat roofs of the old buildings on the corner
+of Gramercy Park. She knocked and waited. There was a grunt, and she
+went in.
+
+Into the large lofty room--a cross between a barn and an attic--a hard
+north light was falling with cruel accuracy. It showed up stacks of
+unframed canvasses with their faces turned to the dark wall and the
+imperfections of several massive pieces of oak, the worn appearance of
+the stained floor, the age of the Persian rugs and of a florid woman who
+sat with studied grace and an anxious expression of pleasant thought on
+the dais, with one indecently beringed hand resting with strained
+nonchalance on the arm of her chair and the other about an ineffably
+bored Pekingese.
+
+Ranken Townsend, the successful portrait painter, had backed away from
+his almost life-size canvas, and with his fine untidy head on one side
+and irritation in his red-grey beard was glaring at it with savage
+antagonism.
+
+The lady on the dais had crow's-feet round her made-up eyes, and a chin
+that could not be made anything but double however high she held it.
+Also--as the north light seemed to take a hideous delight in
+proving--her figure was irreclaimably dumpy and plump. The lady on the
+canvas, however,--such is Art that runs an expensive studio, good wines
+and well-preserved Coronas,--was slight and lovely and patrician, and
+should she stand up, at least six feet tall. No wonder Townsend grunted
+and glared at the commercial fraud in front of him, at which, in his
+good, idealistic, hungry Paris days he would have slung wet brushes and
+the honest curses of the Place Pigalle. He was selling his gift once
+more for five thousand dollars. His wife dressed at Bendels.
+
+Anger and irritation went out of the painter's eyes when he saw the
+sweet face that peeked in. "Hello, sweetheart!" he sang out. "Come in
+and bring a touch of sun. Mrs. Vandervelde, I'd like you to meet my
+little girl."
+
+Without turning her head or breaking a pose that she considered to have
+become, after many serious attempts, extremely effective, the
+much-paragraphed lady, whose lizard-covered mansion in Fifth Avenue was
+always one of the objects touched upon by the megaphone men in
+rubber-neck wagons, murmured a few words. "How d'you do, child? How well
+you look."
+
+Betty smothered a laugh. Mrs. Vandervelde had acquired the habit of
+looking through her ears. "I'm going home with Belle, father, and I
+shall stay to dinner. But I'll be back before ten."
+
+"Will you? All right." He tilted up her face and kissed it. "I'm dining
+at the National Arts Club to-night, and I guess I shall be late." He
+pointed his brush at the canvas and made the grimace of a man who's
+obliged to swallow a big dose of evil-smelling physic. So Betty, who
+understood and was sorry, put his hand to her lips, bowed to the
+indifferent lady and slipped away. The room was perceptibly colder when
+she left. The picture was already four thousand two hundred dollars
+toward completion, and Betty was just as much relieved as her father,
+who returned angrily to work to paint in the diamonds. He was sick of
+that smile.
+
+While waiting for the elevator, Belle gave a rather self-conscious
+laugh and lifted her tight skirt quickly. "Seen the latest, Betty?" She
+showed a tiny square watch edged with diamonds worn as a garter.
+"Cunning, isn't it?"
+
+"Why, I should just think it was! Where did you buy it?"
+
+"Buy it? My dear, can you see me paying three hundred dollars for
+something that doesn't show? Harry Spearman gave it to me last night,
+and put it on in his car on the way to the Pierrot Club."
+
+"Put it on?"
+
+Belle threw back her beautiful head and burst out laughing. "You said
+that just like the Quaker girl in the play at the Hudson. Why shouldn't
+he put it on? It amused him and didn't hurt me. He's a sculptor, and
+like the bus-conductor, 'legs is no treat to him,' anyway."
+
+They entered the elevator, dropped nine floors to the wide foyer of the
+palatial apartment house, and went out into the street. It was a typical
+New York October afternoon--the sky blue and clear, the sun warm and the
+air alive with that pinch of ozone of which no other city in the world
+can boast. The girls instinctively made their way towards Fifth Avenue,
+warily dodging the amazing traffic, the struggling wagons and plunging
+horses going in and out of buildings in course of ear-splitting
+construction, and coal-chutes in the middle of the sidewalks.
+
+"But you were not at the opening of the Pierrot Club last night," said
+Betty. "I heard you tell Mrs. Guthrie that you were dining with the
+Delanos and going to their theatre party."
+
+"I know. But Harry Spearman sent round a note in the afternoon asking me
+to have dinner with him at Delmonico's and go on to the Club to dance. I
+had such a severe headache that I rang up Mrs. Delano and reluctantly
+begged to be excused. To quote Nicholas, theatre parties with elderly
+people bore me stiff. As it was, I had a perfectly corking time till one
+o'clock and danced every dance."
+
+"Did you tell Mrs. Guthrie?"
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Betty, what _do_ you take me for? Mother isn't my
+school-teacher and I don't have to ask her for permission to live. I
+have my latch-key and dear little mother is perfectly happy. As she
+never knows what I do she never has to worry about me; and, as she
+always says, I can only be young once." A curious little smile played
+round her very red lips. "It's true that Harry Spearman is rather
+unmanageable when he gets one alone in a car after several hours of
+champagne and ragtime, but--oh, well, I guess I can take care of myself.
+Do you know, I don't think the Pierrot Club's going to be as good this
+winter. It's a year old, you see. Everybody's going to the new room at
+the Plaza--that is, everybody back from the country. It's rather a pity,
+I think. I like the Club, but the motto of New York is 'Follow the
+Crowd' and so the Plaza's for me."
+
+Betty's admiration for her school-fellow and closest friend was
+invincible and her loyalty very true. It made her therefore a little
+uneasy to notice about her a growing artificiality which was neither
+attractive nor characteristic. She knew better than anyone that Belle
+was a remarkable girl. She had a kind heart. She possessed that rarest
+of gifts, a sense of gratitude, and if her talent for writing had been
+properly developed she might eventually have made her mark. She had a
+quick perception--sympathy and imagination not often found in so young a
+girl--an uncanny ear for the right word--and if she chose to exercise
+it, quite an unusual power of concentration. It seemed to Betty to be
+such a pity that, just at the moment when Belle left school with her
+mind filled with ideals and the ambition to make something of herself
+and do things, the Doctor found himself a rich man. The incentive to
+work which the constant need for economy had awakened in her went out
+like a snuffed candle. From having before been in the habit of saying,
+with eager enthusiasm, "I'm _going_ to do such and such a thing,
+whatever the odds," she immediately began to say: "Oh, my dear, what's
+the use?" Everything for which she had intended to work became now hers
+for the asking. Her father gave her a free hand in the matter of
+entertaining her young friends. She could order what books she wished to
+read from Brentano's, and she had a generous allowance on which to
+dress. Like a chameleon she quickly changed the rather dull colors of
+her former surroundings for those bright ones which the sudden accession
+to wealth made it easy to acquire. Her outlook was no longer that of the
+daughter of an overworked general practitioner whose income had to be
+carefully managed in order to live not too far up-town and educate a
+family of four, but of a debutante whose parents entertained
+distinguished men and women in a fashionable street and whose friends
+were equally well off. Her inherited and cultivated energy was, of
+course, obliged to find vent in some direction, since it was not
+employed in the development of her talent; and it was now burnt up in a
+restless search of enjoyment, a constant series of engagements to lunch
+and dine, and do the theatre and dance,--especially dance. The ordinary
+healthy, high-spirited young man, who had not much to say for himself,
+quickly bored her. Her wits required to be kept sharp, her latent
+intelligence needed something on which to feed. It was therefore natural
+that she should throw her smiles at men much older and far more
+experienced than herself and who, from the fact that they did not intend
+to give anything for nothing, exercised her ingenuity and native wit to
+keep them in order. In a word, she found that playing with fire and
+avoiding being burned kept that side of her in good condition which, in
+her old circumstances, would have been devoted to work. And so with a
+sort of conscious superficiality she had allowed herself to flit from
+one unmeaning incident to another and entered into a series of
+artificial flirtations with men who had no scruples and one passion
+simply in order to kill time. Her carelessness led her into episodes,
+the merest hint of which would have thrown dear little Mrs. Guthrie into
+a panic, and her coolness permitted her to escape from them with perhaps
+more ingenuity than dignity. Even upon her return from England with her
+heart full of Nicholas Kenyon, and with a desire to see him again that
+kept her awake at night, she frittered away her superfluous energy with
+this Harry Spearman, whom no woman with any respect for her daughter
+would willingly allow within a mile of her, even if properly chaperoned.
+
+Betty, being one of those girls who had never been suspected of any
+talent, but who nevertheless had it in her to perform a far more womanly
+and beautiful thing than to write books or plays--to be in fact a good
+wife to the man she loved and a good mother to his children--looked at
+Belle's way of living with growing anxiety. She was not a prude or a
+prig. She had not been allowed out in the world with eyes all curious to
+see the truth of things through a veil of false modesty. Her father, a
+wise and humane man, had seen to that. She delighted in enjoyment, went
+to the theatre whenever she had the opportunity and danced herself out
+of shoes. But, not being ambitious to shine, she was content to apply
+her energy to the ordinary work that came to her to do,--the practical,
+everyday, undramatic, domestic things that cropped up hourly in the
+strange house where the father was an artist and the mother suffered
+from individualism and was a leader of new movements. Leaving school to
+find a home in a constant state of chaos, her father rarely out of his
+studio, her mother always in the throes of committee meetings and
+speech-making,--she knuckled down to set it in order, to clear out an
+extravagant cook with an appetite for hysterics, and a sloppy Irish
+waitress whose hairpins fell everywhere and whose loose hand dropped
+things of value almost before it touched them. This done she found
+others and appointed herself housekeeper, and the duties of this
+position kept her both busy and happy,--the one being hyphenated to the
+other. But even if her father had been, like Dr. Guthrie, a rich man
+instead of one who lived up to every penny that he earned and generally
+several thousand dollars beyond, she had nothing in her character that,
+however little she was occupied, would have allowed her to look at life
+from the modern standpoint of Belle and her other friends. She was--and
+rejoiced in the fact--old-fashioned. Most of her ideas were what is now
+scoffingly called "early Victorian," because they were not loose and
+careless, and the many things that Belle and others found "fearfully
+amusing" were, to her, impossible. She didn't, for instance, leave her
+petticoat in the cloak-room when she went to dances, so that her
+partners might find her better fun. She didn't go to tea alone with mere
+acquaintances in bachelor apartments, or for taxi rides with her partner
+between dances. She never made herself cheap, and went out of her way to
+avoid men whose eyes ran calculatingly over her figure. These things and
+many others merely appealed to her as the perquisite of those girls who
+did not place a very high value upon self-respect.
+
+The Guthries lived at 55 East Fifty-second Street. It was the house
+which the man whom Dr. Guthrie called his benefactor had built for
+himself and left to the doctor whom he was proud to endow. The architect
+who had been employed had been given a free hand. He had not been
+required to mix his styles or perform extraordinary architectural
+gymnastics of any kind. The result of his efforts was good. It was a
+house such as one sees in one of the numerous old London squares within
+sound of the mellow clock of St. James's Palace. Addison might have
+lived in it, or Walpole or Pepys. Its face was scrupulously plain and
+its doorway was modelled on those of the Adams period. Standing between
+two very florid examples of modern architecture it made one think of the
+portrait of a charming early Victorian gentle-woman between the
+photographs of two present-day chorus ladies in hoopskirts and a cloud
+of chiffon. The rooms were large and lofty and were all furnished with
+great simplicity and taste. There was nothing in them except old
+furniture which had been collected in England by its late owner, piece
+by piece, and its oak chests, armoires and secretaries, china closets,
+corner pieces and Chippendale chairs were very good to look at and live
+with. So also were the pictures,--Cattermoles, Bartalozzi engravings,
+colored prints and a half-dozen priceless oil paintings by old
+masters,--which made the small, cunning, unscrupulous, eager mouths of
+the numerous art collectors of New York water with desire. The library,
+too, out of which led the Doctor's laboratory, was almost unique, and
+contained first editions and specimens of rare and beautiful
+book-binding which filled the Doctor's heart with constant pleasure and
+delight. It was nearly a year before the man who had struggled so hard
+to lift himself out of his father's small farm could believe that he
+wasn't walking in his sleep when he passed through these beautiful
+rooms, and often he was obliged to pinch himself to make sure that he
+was not dreaming.
+
+There was however one room in this house which would have given its late
+owner many shudders to enter. This was the little mother's own
+particular room, the windows of which looked out upon that row of small,
+red, bandbox-like houses opposite which had managed to remain standing
+in spite of the rapacious hands of reconstruction companies which are
+never so happy as when destroying old landmarks and tearing down old
+buildings. Into this room Mrs. Guthrie had placed all the furniture of
+her first sitting-room,--cheap, late Victorian stuff of which she had
+been so inordinately and properly proud when she started housekeeping
+with the young doctor. From these things Mrs. Guthrie could not be
+parted. They were all redolent with good and tender memories and were to
+her mind far more valuable and more beautiful than all the priceless old
+oak pieces put together.
+
+Curiously enough--or perhaps not curiously at all--this was Peter's
+favorite room, too, and he never entered it without renewing his vows to
+climb to the top of his own tree, as his father had done. Belle, Graham
+and Ethel all laughed at the little mother for clinging to this
+"rubbish," as they called it, which was so out of keeping with the rest
+of the house. But Peter sympathized with her and never failed while
+sitting there in the evening, in close and intimate conversation with
+the dear little woman who meant so much to him, to get from it a new
+desire to emulate his father and make his own way in the same brave
+spirit.
+
+When Belle and Betty arrived at East Fifty-second Street--a little tired
+after their walk--they found Graham in the hall. "Oh, hello!" said he.
+"Been shopping?"
+
+"No," answered Belle, "nothing tempted us. We've walked all the way home
+from Gramercy Park,--some walk! Everything I've got on is sticking to
+me. Aren't you home early, Graham?"
+
+Graham nodded. "Nothing doing," he said. "Besides, I'm dining early." He
+turned to Belle with a rather curious smile. "I thought you were to be
+with the Delanos last night."
+
+Belle tilted her chin. "I was. I dined there, went to the Winter Garden
+and then danced at Bustanoby's."
+
+"I caught sight of you in Spearman's car somewhere about one o'clock in
+the morning. Did he drive you home?"
+
+"I guess he did, dear boy," said Belle, blandly, "and by the way, we saw
+you, going in to supper somewhere with a girl with a Vogue face and an
+open-air back!"
+
+Graham laughed. "That's different," he said. "Spearman isn't the sort of
+man I care to see my sister going about with alone. I advise you to be a
+little more fastidious."
+
+"Thank you, Graham darling," said Belle, quite un-moved, "but I'm old
+enough to choose my own friends without your butting in. Just for fun,
+would you tell me what _you_ know about the word fastidious?"
+
+"That's different," said Graham again. And he went up-stairs to his own
+room with rather heavy feet.
+
+Belle looked at Betty and a little smile curled up the corners of her
+beautiful red mouth. "I don't see anything wrong with Harry Spearman,
+and he's an old friend of the Delanos. My word, but isn't Graham a good
+sport?"
+
+Presently when they went into the drawing-room they found little Mrs.
+Guthrie sitting in front of the table with a more than usually happy
+smile, and Ethel lying on the sofa looking the very epitome of an
+interesting invalid. With a slightly critical frown on her pretty face
+she was reading Wells's latest novel,--a full-blooded effort well
+calculated to improve the condition of a girl of fifteen who had not
+gone back to school on account of anaemia.
+
+With quick intuition, and one glance at her mother's face, Belle knew
+she had heard from Peter. "Any news?" she asked eagerly.
+
+"Yes, darling,--the very best of news. A Marconi from my boy," said Mrs.
+Guthrie.
+
+"What does he say?"
+
+"Oh, what does he say?" asked Betty. But the question was asked
+mentally, because little Mrs. Guthrie was happy and must not be made
+jealous.
+
+Putting on her glasses with great deliberation, Mrs. Guthrie picked up a
+book, and with a smile of pride and excitement hunted through its pages
+and eventually produced the cable form, which she had used as a marker.
+
+"_Do_ hurry, mother, _dear_!" cried Belle. News from Peter meant news
+from Nicholas.
+
+"Now please don't fluster me, Belle. Of course I would unfold it the
+wrong side up, wouldn't I? Well, this is what he says: 'Expect to dock
+day after to-morrow, dearest Mum. All my love.'"
+
+"Is that all he says? Is there nothing about his--his friend?"
+
+Ethel gave a quiet chuckle, of which Belle coldly took no notice.
+
+"There are a few more words," replied Mrs. Guthrie, "and I expect they
+were very expensive."
+
+"Oh, mother, darling; _do_ go on!"
+
+"Let me see, now. Oh, yes. 'And to Betty.'"
+
+"Oh, thank you," said Betty. "Oh, Peter, my Peter!" she cried in her
+heart.
+
+This time Ethel laughed. But no one noticed it. It was rather
+disappointing.
+
+"At last I shall see Nicholas again," thought Belle,--"at last!"
+
+And the little mother folded up the cable very carefully and slipped it
+back into the book. Peter had sent it to her,--to her.
+
+And then Belle turned her attention to her little sister, who not only
+looked most interesting, but knew that she did. "I think you
+condescended to be amused, Grandmamma," she said, in the most
+good-natured spirit of chaff. Like everybody else in the family she was
+really rather proud of this very finished production of an ultra-modern
+and fashionable school.
+
+"I seem to have missed a lot of fun by not going to Europe," replied
+Ethel. "It would have been very entertaining to watch you and Betty fall
+in love."
+
+"I guess so," said Belle. "The only thing is that you would have been
+very much odd man out. They draw the line at little school-girls at
+Oxford."
+
+"Now don't begin to quarrel, girls," said Mrs. Guthrie. "I'm very sorry
+Ethel wasn't with us. The trip would have widened her view and given her
+much to think about. But never mind. She shall go with us next time."
+
+Ethel stifled a yawn. "Thank you, mamma, dear. But when I go to England
+I may elect to stay there. I think it's very probable that I shall marry
+an Englishman and settle down to country life, doing London in the
+season."
+
+Belle's laugh rang out. "That's the sort of thing we have to put up
+with, Betty," she said. "You're going to marry a Duke, aren't you, Baby,
+and be a Lady in Waiting at Court, with a full-page photograph every
+week in the _Tatler_? When Peter comes home he'll find you a constant
+source of joy. My descriptions of the way in which you've come on while
+he's been away always made him laugh."
+
+Ethel rose languidly from the sofa, at the side of which a little
+nourishment had been served. Mrs. Guthrie, who had been busily at work
+knitting a scarf for Graham--a thing that he would certainly never
+wear--went quickly to give her a hand. "Are you going to your room now,
+darling?" she asked.
+
+Ethel caught Belle's rather sceptical eye and, with exquisite coolness,
+entirely ignored its suggestion that she was shamming. "Yes, mamma,
+dear. I shall go to bed almost at once. There's nothing like sleep for
+anaemia. Of course I shall have to read for a little while, because
+insomnia goes with my complaint, but I shall fall off as soon as I can.
+Please don't come in to-night, in case you disturb me. I'll tell Ellen
+to put my hot milk in a thermos."
+
+Belle burst into another laugh. "You beat the band," she said. "Any one
+would think that your school was for the daughters of royalty. I know
+exactly what Nicholas Kenyon will call you."
+
+Ethel turned towards her sister with raised eyebrows. With her rather
+retrousse nose, fine, wide-apart eyes and soft round chin she looked
+very pretty and amazingly self-composed. Her poise was that of a woman
+who had been a leader of society for years. "Yes? And what will that
+be?"
+
+"The queen of the Flappers," said Belle.
+
+Ethel picked up her book, carefully placing the marker. "Oxford slang
+leaves me cold," she said, loftily.
+
+"I certainly hope that he'll call her nothing of the sort," said Mrs.
+Guthrie. "'Flapper.' What a terrible word! What does it mean?"
+
+"It means girls under seventeen who have discovered all the secrets of
+life, the value of a pair of pretty ankles and exactly how to get
+everybody else to do things for them. It's the best word I heard in
+England."
+
+"Nicholas Kenyon sounds to me rather a precocious boy," said Ethel.
+
+"Boy! Nicholas Kenyon a boy--! Well!" Belle acknowledged herself beaten.
+She could find no other words.
+
+The little mother put her arm, with great affection, around the
+shoulders of her youngest child, of whom she was extremely proud and a
+little frightened. "Never mind, darling," she said. "Belle doesn't mean
+anything. It's only her fun."
+
+"Oh, that's all right, mamma. I make full allowance for Belle. She's a
+little crude yet, but she'll improve in time."
+
+Belle gave a scream of joy. Her sense of the ridiculous, always
+extremely keen, made her delight in her little sister and the perfectly
+placid way in which she sailed through existence with the lofty
+superiority of her type--a type that is the peculiar result of
+supercivilization and the deferential treatment of fashionable
+schoolmistresses who bow to wealth as before a god.
+
+"Run in and say good-night to father. He won't mind being disturbed for
+a moment by you."
+
+"I don't think I will," said Ethel. "The sight of his laboratory may
+give me a nightmare. I really must be careful about myself just now.
+Good night, mamma dear. Don't sit up too late. Good night, Belle. I
+should advise you to go to bed at once. Your complexion is beginning to
+show the effects of late hours already."
+
+"Oh, you funny little thing," said Belle. "You give me a pain. Trot off
+to bed; and instead of reading Wells, Ibsen and George Bernard Shaw, try
+a course of Louisa Alcott and a dose of Swiss Family Robinson. That'll
+do you much more good and make you a little more human."
+
+But even this plain sisterly speaking had no apparent effect. Ethel gave
+Betty, who had been watching and listening to the little bout with the
+surprise of an only child, a small peck on the cheek. "Good night, dear
+Betty," she said. "I'm glad that you're going to be my sister-in-law.
+Unless Peter has changed very much since he's been away he'll make a
+good husband."
+
+And then, with quiet grace, she left the room. No one, not even Belle,
+whose high spirits and love of life had led her into many perfectly
+harmless adventures when she was the same age, suspected that Ethel was
+up to anything. They were wrong. The self-constituted invalid had
+invented anaemia for two very good reasons. First, because she was not
+going to be deprived of welcoming her big brother when he returned home
+for good, school or no school, and second because she had struck up a
+surreptitious acquaintance with the good-looking boy next door. At
+present it had gone no further than the daily exchange of letters and
+telephone calls. The adventure was in the course, however, of speedy
+development. The boy was going to pay her a visit that evening, by way
+of the roof. No wonder Ethel didn't want to be disturbed.
+
+With an unwonted burst of extravagance Betty took a taxi home as soon
+after dinner as she could get away. "Is there a letter for me? Is there
+a letter for me?" she asked the moon and all the stars in the clear sky
+as her rackety cab bowled swiftly downtown.
+
+She let herself in and the first thing that caught her eyes was the
+welcome sight of a thick envelope addressed in Peter's big round,
+honest, unaffected hand.
+
+"Peter, oh, my Peter!" she whispered, pressing the letter to her lips.
+
+Within five minutes she was sitting on her bed, in the seclusion of her
+own room, and what Peter had to say for himself was this:
+
+    Carlton Hotel, London,
+    September 28, 1913.
+
+    My dearest Betty:
+     Gee! but I was mighty glad to find a letter from you this
+     afternoon when I got in, so glad that I dashed out of this
+     Hotel, went across the street to the White Star offices and
+     asked them to exchange my bookings to a boat sailing a week
+     earlier, because I just can't stand being away from you any
+     longer. I don't know what Nick will say, and don't much care.
+     He's at Newmarket staying with a man who trains horses. I've
+     just sent him a telegram to say what I've done, and as he's
+     very keen to see New York and is only killing time, I don't
+     think he'll kick up a row. I would have sailed on the
+     _Olympic_, which left the day after I said good-bye to
+     Thrapstone-Wynyates, if I hadn't promised father to go up to
+     Scotland and see the place where his ancestors lived. I
+     couldn't back out of that, especially as goodness only knows
+     when I shall come to Europe again,--perhaps not until I bring
+     you over on a honeymoon, my baby, and we go back to Oxford
+     together to see how the fairy ring is getting on. We must do
+     that some day. You don't know how I love that little open space
+     where the trees haven't grown so that the moon may spill itself
+     in a big patch for all our friends to dance in on fine nights.
+     I've read your letter a dozen times and know it by heart, like
+     all the others you've written to me. You write the most
+     wonderful letters, darling. I wish I knew how to send you
+     something worth reading, though I'm quite sure you don't mind
+     my clumsy way of putting things down, because you know how much
+     I love you and because everything I say comes straight out of
+     my heart.
+
+     My last letter was written in Scotland, Cupar Fife. I shall
+     always remember that quiet little place where the red-headed
+     Guthries,--they must have been red-headed from eating so much
+     porridge,--tilled the earth and brought up sheep in the way
+     they should go. The village seems as much cut off from the rest
+     of the world as though it were surrounded by sea, and every
+     small thing that happens excites it. The man who kept the Inn
+     that I stayed in (feeling frightfully lonely, though really
+     very much interested) had words with his good woman one night
+     and the rights and wrongs of the perfectly private matter have
+     since divided all the inhabitants. Best friends don't speak and
+     the minister is going to preach about the affair next Sunday. I
+     saw the house the old Guthries lived in and was taken all over
+     it by a kind old soul to whom father gave more money than
+     she thought existed when he was there. Gee! but my
+     great-grandfather must have had precious little ambition to
+     live his whole life in a little hole like that. In most of the
+     rooms the beds were in small alcoves and needed climbing up to
+     like bunks. Mrs. McAlister, who lives there now with her
+     married daughter and her seven children, sleeps in one of these
+     fug-holes in the kitchen. Think of it! And she said that the
+     floor swarms with beetles--she can hear them crackling about in
+     the night. All the same, by Jove! this primitive living makes
+     men. I can see from whom father got his grit and determination.
+
+     I was glad to find myself in London. I've only been here for a
+     night or two at various times and it's a wilderness to me. I
+     lose myself every time I go out and have to ask Bobbies how to
+     get back. Topping chaps, these Bobbies. They mostly look like
+     gentlemen and are awfully glad to get a laugh. To hear them
+     talk about the 'Aymarket, Piccadilly Surcuss, Wart'loo Plaice
+     and Westminister Habbey first of all puzzles one and then fills
+     one with joy. As to the Abbey,--oh, Gee! but isn't it away
+     beyond words! I spent a whole day wandering about among the
+     graves of its mighty dead, and finally when I got to the end of
+     the cloister and came upon that small, square, open space where
+     the grass grows so green and sparrows play about, I was glad
+     there was nobody to see me except the maid-servant of one of
+     the minor Canons who was taking in the milk for afternoon tea.
+     There are one or two vacant niches among the shrines of men who
+     have done things and moved things on, in which I should like to
+     stand (not looking a bit like myself in stone) when I have done
+     my job, and if I were an Englishman I should work for it. As it
+     is, I shall work for you and all you mean to me, my baby, and
+     that's even a higher privilege.
+
+     I went to a theatre last night,--Wyndham's. I thought the play
+     was corking, but the leading actor--an ugly good-looking
+     fellow--wasn't trying a yard, and let it away down every time
+     he was on. Also he spent his time making jokes under his breath
+     to the other people to dry them up. No wonder the theatres are
+     in a bad way in London. There's no snap and ginger about the
+     shows except the ones of the variety theatres, where they
+     really do take off their coats for business. It's fine to hear
+     rag-times at these places, although they're as stale on our
+     side as if they had been played away back before the great
+     wind. By the way, I'm a bit anxious about Graham. His letters
+     have a queer undercurrent in them.
+
+     I'm going to the National Gallery, the British Museum and South
+     Kensington to-morrow, and in the evening I'm dining at the
+     Trocadero with eight men who were up at St. John's with me.
+     They're all working in London and hate it, after Oxford. It
+     seems odd to me not to be there myself and I miss it mighty
+     badly sometimes. All the same it's great to feel that one's a
+     man at last, with real work to do and that apartment waiting
+     for us to win. This is the last mail that I can catch before
+     sailing and so I just have to tell you once again, in case you
+     forget it, that I adore you and that if I don't see you on the
+     landing in little old New York among the crowd I shall sink
+     away like an India-rubber balloon with a pin in it. So long, my
+     dearest girl. All, all my love, now and forever.
+                                                      PETER.
+
+     P. S. Do you think your father can be brought to like me
+     somehow or other?
+
+     Kiss this exact spot.
+
+
+II
+
+A good sport! Oh, yes, Graham answered admirably to that
+description,--according to its present-day use. Graham, like Belle, was
+suffering from the fact that everything was too easy. His father's
+so-called benefactor had taken all the sting of life for that boy.
+Fundamentally he had inherited a considerable amount of his father's
+grit. He needed the impetus of struggle to use up that sense of
+adventure which was deep-rooted in his nature. He was a throw-back. He
+had all the stuff in him that was in his ancestors,--those early
+pioneers who were momentarily up against the grim facts of life. He was
+not cut out for civilization. He needed action, the physical strain and
+stress of hunting for his food among primeval surroundings and the
+constant exercise of his strength in dangerous positions. He would have
+made a fine sailor, a reckless soldier or an excellent flying man. He
+was as much out of his element in Wall Street as a sporting dog which is
+doomed to pass away its life sitting beside a chauffeur in an elaborate
+motor-car. The daring recklessness which would have been an asset to him
+as a hunter of big game or a man who attached himself to dangerous
+expeditions, found vent, in the heart of civilization, in gambling and
+running wild. It was a pity to see such a lad so utterly misplaced and
+going to the devil with an alacrity that alarmed even some of his very
+loose friends. If his father had continued to be a hard-working doctor
+whose income was barely large enough to cover his yearly expenses,
+Graham could have used up his superabundant energies in climbing, rung
+by rung, any ladder at the bottom of which he had been placed. As it
+was, he found himself, through his father's sudden accession to wealth,
+beginning where most men leave off, with nothing to fight for--nothing
+to put his teeth into--nothing for which to take off his coat. It was
+all wrong. He made money and lost it with equal ease--although he lost
+more than he won. He was surrounded with luxuries when he should have
+been faced daily with the splendid difficulties which go to form
+character and mental strength. Somehow or other his innate desire for
+adventure had to be used up. With no one to exercise any discipline over
+him, with no steady hand to guide him and control, he flung himself
+headlong into the vortex of the night life of the great city and was an
+easy prey for its rastaquores. At the age of twenty-four he already knew
+what it was to be haunted by money-lenders. Already he was up to the
+innumerable dodges of the men who borrow from Peter to pay Paul. He was
+a well-known figure in gambling clubs and the houses in the red-light
+district, and he numbered among his friends men and women who made a
+specialty of dealing with boys of his type and who laid their nets with
+consummate knowledge of humanity and with the most dastardly
+callousness. He was indeed, in the usual inaccurate conception of the
+word, a good "sport," and stood every chance of paying for the privilege
+with his health, his self-respect and the whole of his future life.
+
+To have seen the nervous way in which he dressed for dinner the next
+evening, throwing tie after tie away with irritable cursing, would have
+convinced the most casual observer of the fact that he stood in need of
+a strong hand. His very appearance,--the dark lines round his eyes, the
+unsteadiness of his hand,--denoted plainly enough the sort of life that
+he was leading, but the short-sighted eyes of the Doctor in whose house
+he lived missed all this, and there was no one except the little mother
+to cry "halt" to this poor lad and, in her experience, of what avail was
+she?
+
+He drove--after having dined with three other Wall Street men at
+Sherry's--to an apartment house on West Fortieth Street, little
+imagining that fate had determined to put him to the test. Kenyon had
+recommended him to try it. He had heard of it from Captain Fountain's
+brother, who had called it "very hot stuff" in one of his letters,--the
+headquarters of a so-called "Bohemian" set in which Art and gambling
+were combined. It was run by a woman whose name was Russian, whose
+instincts were cosmopolitan, and who had been shifted out of most of the
+great European cities by the police. "The Papowsky," as she was called,
+spoke several languages equally fluently. She was something of a judge
+of art. She had an uncanny way of being able to predict success or
+failure to new plays. She knew musicians when she saw them and only had
+to smell a book to know whether it had excellence or not. Her short,
+thin body and yellow skin, her black hair cut in a fringe over her eyes
+and short all round like that of a Shakesperian page, her long, dark,
+Oriental eyes and her long artistic hands were in themselves far from
+attractive. It was her wit and sarcasm however and the brilliant way in
+which she summed up people and things which made her the leader of those
+odd people--to be found in every great city--who delight in being
+unconventional and find excitement in a game of chance.
+
+The apartment in which she held her "receptions" and entertainments was
+unique. The principal room was a large and lofty studio, arranged like a
+grotto with rocks and curious lights and secluded places where there
+were divans. Here there was a dais, at the back of which there was an
+organ, and a grand piano stood upon it in a French frame all over
+cupids, and it was here that the most extraordinary exhibitions of
+dancing were given by the Papowsky hand-maidens and others.
+
+The other people who lived in this apartment house had already begun to
+talk about it in whispers, and its reputation had gone out into the
+city. One or two feeble complaints had been made to the police, but
+without any avail. At the moment when Graham had first entered it, it
+was in its second year and was flourishing like the proverbial Bay Tree.
+The magnets which drew him to this house of Arabian Nights were the
+roulette table in a secluded room at the end of the passage, and one of
+the hand-maidens of the Papowsky, whose large, gazelle-like eyes and
+soft caressing hands drew him from other haunts, and followed him into
+his dreams.
+
+
+III
+
+Graham's hat and coat were taken by a Japanese servant, whose little
+eyes twinkled a welcome.
+
+The long, brilliantly lighted passage which led to the studio was hung
+with nudes, some of them painted in oils with a sure touch, some highly
+finished in black-and-white, and the rest dashed off in chalks,--rough
+impressionist things which might have been drawn by art students under
+the influence of drink. Between them in narrow black frames there was a
+collection of diabolically clever caricatures of well-known singers,
+actors, authors, painters and politicians, each one bringing out the
+weaknesses of the victims with peculiar impishness and insight. The
+floor of the passage was covered with a thick black pile carpet, which
+smothered all noise.
+
+As Graham entered the studio several strange minor chords were struck on
+the piano and a woman's deep contralto voice filled the large studio
+like winter wind moaning through an old chimney.
+
+The Papowsky, who was giving an evening for young artists, and was
+half-covered in a more than usually grotesque garment, slid out of the
+shadow and gave Graham her left hand, murmuring a welcome. Exuding a
+curious pungent aroma, she placed a long finger on her red, thin lips
+and slipped away again. For some minutes Graham remained where she left
+him, trying to accustom his eyes to the dim--though far from
+religious--light. He made out men in dress clothes sitting here and
+there and the glint of nymph-like forms passing from place to place,
+springily. The scent of cigarette smoke mixed with that of some queer
+intoxicating perfume. The sound of water plashing from a fountain came
+to his ears.
+
+On his way to find a seat, Graham's arm was suddenly seized, he was
+pulled into a corner and found himself, gladly enough, alone with the
+girl who called herself Ita Strabosck. There was one blue light in this
+alcove and by it he could see that the girl was dressed like an Apache
+in black suit with trousers which belled out over her little ankles and
+fitted her tightly everywhere else. She retained her close grip and
+began to whisper eagerly to him. Her foreign accent was more marked than
+usual, owing to the emotion under which she obviously labored. Her heart
+hammered against his arm.
+
+"You have come to zee me?"
+
+Graham whispered back. "Don't I always come to see you?"
+
+"You like me?"
+
+Graham bent forward and kissed her mouth.
+
+"You love me?"
+
+The boy laughed.
+
+"S-s-s-h! Eef you love me, eef you really and truly love me, I vill
+to-night ask you to prove eet."
+
+"I've been waiting," said Graham, with a sudden touch of passion.
+
+"Zen take me avay from this 'ell. I 'ave a soul. Eet ees killing me. I
+'ave a longing for God's air. Take me back to eet. The Papowsky ees a
+vile woman. She lure me 'ere and I am a prisoner. You do not know the
+'orrors of zis place. I am young. I am almost a child. I was good and I
+can be good again. At once, when you come 'ere, I saw in you one who
+might rescue me from zis. I love you. You say you love me. I beseech you
+to take me away."
+
+Graham was stirred by this emotional appeal whispered in his ear, by the
+young arms that were flung round his neck, and by the little body that
+was all soft against him. His sense of chivalry and his innate desire
+for adventure were instantly set ablaze. At the same time, what could he
+do with this strange little girl? Where could he put her?
+
+He began to whisper back something of his inability to help, but a hand
+was quickly placed over his mouth.
+
+"Eef you believe in God, take me away. I do not care what you do with
+me. I do not care eef you make me work for my bread. You are not like ze
+rest. You too are young and you are a man, and I love you. I will be
+your servant--your slave. I will kiss your feet. I will give you myself.
+I will wait on you 'and and foot. Give me a little room near ze sky and
+see me once a day, but take me out of this evil place--I am being
+poisoned. Vill you do zis? Vill you?" She slipped down on her knees and
+clasped her hands together.
+
+In the faint blue light Graham could see the large eyes of the girl
+looking up at him through tears, as though to a saviour. Her whole
+attitude was one of great appeal. Her young, slim body trembled and the
+throbbing of her voice with its curious foreign accent moved him to an
+overwhelming pity. Here then was something that he could do--was a way
+in which he could exercise his bottled up sense of adventure which had
+hitherto only been kept in some sort of control by gambling and running
+risks.
+
+"Do you mean that you're forced to remain here,--that you can't get out
+if you want to?"
+
+"Yes, yes, yes! I tell you I was caught like a wild bird and zis ees my
+cage. Ze door ees guarded."
+
+A great excitement seized the boy. He lifted Ita up and put his mouth to
+her ear. "You've come to the right man. I'll get you out of this. I
+always loathed to see you here,--but how's it to be done? She has eyes
+in the back of her head, and those damned Japanese servants are
+everywhere."
+
+"Eeet ees for you to sink," said the girl. "You are a man."
+
+"I see," said Graham. "Right. Leave it to me."
+
+He liked being made responsible. He liked the utter trust which this
+girl placed in him. He liked the feeling of danger. The whole episode
+and its uncanny romance caught hold of him. It was not every day that in
+the middle of civilization the chance came to do something which smacked
+of mediaevalism--which had in it something of the high adventure of
+Ivanhoe.
+
+He said: "Get away quick and put your clothes on. Don't pack
+anything--just dress. There won't be any one in the roulette room until
+after twelve. Go in there and hide behind the curtains and wait for me.
+Quick, now!"
+
+Once more the girl flung her arms about him and put her lips to his
+mouth.
+
+For several minutes Graham remained alone in the alcove, with his blood
+running swiftly through his veins--his brain hard at work. The woman on
+the dais was still singing. In the vague, uncertain light he could see
+the Papowsky curled up on a divan near by, smoking a cigarette. Other
+people had come in and made groups among the foolish rockery. Then he
+got up quietly, went out into the passage and looked about. He had never
+before explored the place, he only knew the studio and the roulette
+room. It dawned upon him that this apartment was just beneath the roof
+of the building. Somewhere or other there was likely to be an outlet to
+the fire-escape. That was the idea. He had it. The girl had said that it
+would be impossible to take her away by the main door. Those Japanese
+servants were evidently watch-dogs. Even as he stood there, wondering,
+he saw that he was eyed by a small, square-shouldered Japanese whose
+head seemed to be too large for his body and whose oily deferential grin
+was not to be trusted. He lit a cigarette, and putting on what he
+considered to be an air of extreme nonchalance, strolled along until he
+came to the roulette room. No one was there. The candelabra were only
+partially alight. He darted quickly to the window and flung it up. The
+iron steps of the fire-escape ran past it to the roof. "Fine!" he said
+to himself. "Now I know what to do."
+
+He shut the window quickly and turned round just as the man who had been
+watching him came in. "Say!" he said. "Just go and get me a high-ball.
+Bring it here." He followed the man to the door and into the passage and
+watched him waddle away. He had not been there more than a moment when
+the door opposite opened bit by bit, and the girl's face, with large
+frightened eyes, peeped round the corner. In a little black hat and a
+plain frock with a very tight skirt she looked younger and prettier and
+more in need of help than ever. Without a word, Graham caught hold of
+her hand, drew her into the passage, shut her door, ran her into the
+roulette room and placed her behind the curtains, making sure that her
+feet were hidden. Whistling softly to himself he sat down and waited.
+The man seemed to have been gone half an hour. It was really only a few
+minutes before he waddled back on his heels. Graham took the drink. "How
+soon do you think they'll begin to play to-night?" he asked, keeping his
+voice steady with a huge effort.
+
+The Japanese shrugged his shoulders. "As usual, sir," he said, smiling
+from ear to ear and rubbing his hands together as though he were washing
+them. "Any time after twelve, sir--any time, sir."
+
+"All right!" said Graham. "I shall wait here."
+
+He kept up the air of boredom until he imagined that the small,
+black-haired, olive-tinted man had had time to get well away. Then he
+sprang to the door, saw that the passage was empty, darted back into
+the room and over to the window.
+
+"Come on!" he said. "Quick's the word!" and climbed out, giving the girl
+his hand. For a moment they stood together on the ledge of the
+fire-escape, the stairs of which seemed to run endlessly down. With a
+chuckle of triumph Graham shut the window, as the girl gave a little cry
+of dismay.
+
+She had called that place hell, but from the height on which they stood
+it seemed as though they were climbing down from the sky.
+
+
+IV
+
+"Uptown," said Graham to the taxi driver. "I'll tell you where when I
+know myself."
+
+A knowing and sympathetic grin covered the big Irish face and a raucous
+yell came from the hard-used engine, and the taxi went forward with a
+huge jerk.
+
+The little girl turned her large eyes on Graham. "You do not know vhere
+you take me?" she asked.
+
+"No, by thunder, I don't. I can't drive you like this to a hotel, you've
+got no baggage. Most of my friends live in bachelor apartments, and the
+women I know,--well, I would like to see their faces if I turned up with
+you--and _this_ story."
+
+The girl's foreign gesture was eloquent of despair. She heaved a deep
+sigh and drew into the corner of the cab. The passing lights shone
+intermittently on her little white face. How small and pitiful and
+helpless she looked.
+
+The sight of her set Graham's brain working again. In getting her out of
+the Papowsky's poisonous place and leading her step by step down the
+winding fire-escape and, when it ceased abruptly in mid-air, into the
+window of a restaurant, he had been brought to the end of one line of
+thought,--that of getting the girl safely out of her prison. He now
+started on another, while the cab rocked along the trolley lines beneath
+the elevated railway, sometimes swerving dangerously out and round the
+iron supports.
+
+Suddenly Graham was seized with an idea. He put his head out of the cab
+window and shouted to the driver: "Fifty-five East Fifty-second Street."
+
+The girl turned to him hopefully. "What ees zat?" she asked.
+
+"My home."
+
+"Your 'ome? You take me to your 'ome?"
+
+"Why no, not exactly. I'm going in to get a bag for you. It won't have
+much in it except a brush and comb and a pair of my pajamas, but with
+them we can drive to any quiet hotel and I'll get a room for you. In the
+morning I'll find a little furnished apartment and you can go out and
+buy some clothes and the other things that you need. How's that?"
+
+Ita caught up his hand and held it against her heart. "But you are not
+going to leave me?"
+
+"Yes, I must," said Graham. "I shall have to register you as my sister.
+You've just come off the train and I've met you at the station. Oh,
+don't cry! It's the best I can do. It's only just for one night. I'll
+fix things to-morrow and you'll be very happy in a little apartment of
+your own, won't you? I'll see you every day there."
+
+With a sudden and almost painfully touching abandon of gratitude the
+girl flung herself on the floor of the cab and put her head on Graham's
+knees, calling on God to bless him. Something came into the boy's
+throat.
+
+The taxi crossed Fifth Avenue behind a motor-car that was also going
+towards Madison Avenue. It looked very familiar to Graham. Supposing it
+was his father returning from one of his medical meetings! He put his
+head out again, sharply: "Stop at the first house on East Fifty-second
+Street!" he shouted. Almost before the cab had stopped he leaped out.
+"Wait for me here," he added.
+
+"Sure an' I will." The driver threw a glance at his taxi-meter. Not for
+him to care how long he waited.
+
+Graham darted along the street and up the steps of Number fifty-five,
+and just as he had the key in the door he heard his father's voice.
+
+"No, no. Let my car take you home. Yes, a wonderful evening. Most
+inspiring. Good night! Let's meet again soon!"
+
+Graham made up his mind what to do. He held the door open for the Doctor
+and stood waiting for him, with the bored look of one who has had a
+rather dull evening. "Oh, thank you, Graham," said Dr. Guthrie. "Have
+you just got back?"
+
+"Yes; I thought I'd get to bed early to-night."
+
+"You look as though you needed sleep," said the Doctor. "But--but don't
+go up at once. Please come and have a cigarette in my room. I've--I've
+been speaking at the Academy of Medicine,--explaining a new discovery. A
+great triumph, Graham, a great triumph. I would like to tell one of my
+sons about it. Won't you come?"
+
+There was an unwonted look of excitement on his father's thin face and a
+ring in his voice which made it almost youthful. It was the first time
+that Graham had ever received such an invitation. He was surprised, and
+if he had not been so desperately anxious to slip up-stairs, lay quick
+hands on the bag and get away again he would have accepted it gladly.
+For a reason that he could not explain he felt at that instant an almost
+unbearable desire to find his father, to get in touch with him, to give
+something and receive something that he seemed to yearn for and need
+more urgently than at any other moment in his life. As it was, he was
+obliged to back out. "I'm frightfully tired to-night," he said, yawning.
+
+"Oh, are you? I'm sorry," said the Doctor apologetically. "Some other
+night perhaps--some other night."
+
+The two men stood facing each other uncomfortably. Exhilaration had for
+a moment broken down the Doctor's shyness. It all came back to him when
+he found his son's eyes upon him like those of a stranger. He took off
+his coat and hat, said "Good-night" nervously and went quickly across
+the hall and into his library.
+
+He was deeply hurt. He stood among those priceless books with a curious
+pain running through his veins. "What's the matter with me?" he asked
+himself. "Why do I chill my children and make them draw back?"
+
+Graham shut the door, and then as quickly as an eel ran up-stairs to his
+bedroom, turned on the light, opened the door of the closet and pulled
+out a large suit-case. Then he began to hunt among the drawers of his
+wardrobe for some pajamas. He threw these in. From his bathroom he
+caught up a brush and comb and some bedroom slippers. These followed the
+pajamas. Then he shut the case, picked it up, crept quietly down-stairs,
+across the hall and out into the street, shutting the door softly behind
+him. He gave the taxi-driver the name of a small hotel frequented by
+actors, and jumped into the cab.
+
+Ita Strabosck welcomed him as though he had been gone a week. "'Ow good
+you are to me!" she cried. "Eef you never do anysing else een your life,
+zis that you 'ave done for me vill be written down by zee angels een
+your book."
+
+Graham laughed. "The angels--I wonder."
+
+All the same he was a little proud of himself. Not many men would have
+perfected the rescue of this little girl so neatly from a house in which
+her body and soul were in jeopardy. It had been an episode in his
+sophisticated life which was all to his credit. He felt that,--with
+pleasure liked the idea of being responsible for this poor little soul,
+of having some one dependent entirely upon his generosity and who
+presently would wait for his step with a fluttering heart and run to
+meet him when he came in tired. He liked also the thought that this girl
+would be a little secret of his own,--some one personal to himself, to
+whom he could take his worries--and he had many--and get sympathy and
+even advice.
+
+The cab drew up. Graham released himself from the girl's arms and led
+her into the small and rather fuggy foyer of the hotel, which was a
+stone's throw from Broadway. A colored porter pounced upon the bag and
+an alert clerk looked up from the mail that he was sorting.
+
+"I want a room for my sister," said Graham, "with bath. Got one?"
+
+"Fifth floor," said the clerk, after gazing fixedly for a moment at
+something at the back of the screen. He then pushed the book towards
+Graham.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation, Graham wrote "Miss Nancy Robertson,
+Buffalo," and took the key that was extended to him. "Come on, Nancy,"
+he said, and led the way to the elevator, in which was waiting a tall,
+florid woman carrying a small bulldog in her arms. She had obviously not
+taken very great pains to remove the make-up from her face which had
+been necessary to her small part. Graham recognized her as an actress
+whom he had seen some nights before in an English play at the
+Thirty-ninth Street Theatre, and he thought how queer life was and what
+odd tricks it played. Not a foot away from each other stood two women,
+the one just back from a place in which she had been aping a human being
+in a piece utterly artificial and untrue, the other who had played a
+part in a tragedy of grim and horrible reality, out of which she had
+been carried before the inevitable climax.
+
+The colored boy, with a hospitable grin on his face, led the way along a
+narrow, shabby passage whose wall-paper was much the worse for wear, and
+finally opened the door of a small bedroom, switching on the light.
+
+"I'll undo the case," said Graham quickly.
+
+The boy drew back. "Sure."
+
+"And say! If you'll see that my sister gets what she rings for I'll give
+you five dollars."
+
+"You bet your life, sah." There was a dazzling glint of white teeth.
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"You welcome."
+
+The cry of joy and relief which made the whole room quiver, as soon as
+the porter had gone, went straight to Graham's heart. "I guess it's not
+much of a room," he said, a little huskily, "but we'll change all this
+to-morrow."
+
+The girl ran her hand over the pillow and the bed-cover. "Oh, but eet
+ees zo sweet and clean," she said, between tears and laughter, "and no
+one can come. Eet ees mine. You are zo, _zo_ good to me."
+
+Graham undid the case and spilt the meagre contents on the bed. Then he
+put his hands on Ita's shoulders and kissed her. "Good-night, you poor
+little thing," he said. "Sleep well, order anything that you want, and
+don't leave this room until I come and fetch you. Your troubles are
+over."
+
+She clung to him. "But you vill stay a leetle--just a leetle?"
+
+"No, I'm going now."
+
+There was nowhere in Graham's mind the remotest desire to stay. A new
+and strange chivalry had taken the place of the passion that had swept
+over him earlier in the evening when the blue light had fallen on her
+slim body.
+
+She looked into his face, nodded and put her lips to his cheek. "Good
+night, zen," she said. "You 'ave taken me out of hell. You are very
+good."
+
+And as Graham walked home under the gleaming moon and the
+star-bespattered sky, there was a little queer song in his rather lonely
+heart.
+
+Poor, simple, sophisticated lad! How easy it had been for that cunning
+little creature whose one ambition was to be the mistress of an
+apartment in business for herself, to take advantage of his unfed sense
+of adventure. She, and fate, had certainly played him a very impish
+trick.
+
+
+V
+
+The _Oceanic_ had been timed to dock at four-thirty, but the thick mist
+at the mouth of the Hudson had caused some delay and her mail had been
+heavy. The consequence was that she was edged in to her dock
+considerably more than an hour late, to be welcomed by an outburst of
+long-expectant handkerchiefs.
+
+During the period of waiting--by no means unpleasant, because the sun
+fell warmly upon the wonderful river--several brief, emotional
+conversations took place between the people who had come to greet Peter.
+The Guthries were there in a body,--even Ethel had pulled herself
+together and had come to be among the first to greet her favorite
+brother. Graham wouldn't have missed the occasion for anything on earth.
+His love for Peter was deep and true. And it was good to see the
+excitement of them all and of the little mother, who was in a state of
+verging between tears and laughter all the time. Her big boy was coming
+home again and once more she would have the ineffable joy of tucking him
+up at night sometimes, and asking God to bless him before she drew the
+clothes about his ears as she had done so often. Even the Doctor found
+it necessary to take off his glasses several times and rub them clear of
+the moisture that prevented him from seeing the approaching vessel which
+seemed to have given herself up to the bullying of the small but
+energetic tugs whose blunt noses butted into her.
+
+Betty brought her father; and these two, with a delicacy of feeling
+characteristic of them, placed themselves among the crowd away from the
+Guthrie family. Intuitively, Betty knew that much as Mrs. Guthrie liked
+her, she would rather resent her presence there at such a moment.
+Belle's quick eyes very soon discovered them, however, and presently
+they permitted themselves to be drawn into the family group.
+
+It was a curious moment for Ranken Townsend and his feelings were not
+unlike those of little Mrs. Guthrie. "My God!" he said to himself as he
+stood looking out at the wide river, its marvellous and strenuous life
+and the amazing sky-line of the buildings on the opposite bank; "has the
+time arrived already for me to lose my little girl? Am I so old that I
+have a young thing ripe enough for marriage and to bring into the world
+young things of her own?"
+
+The artist had only met the elder Guthries once before, although Belle
+was a particular friend of his, having been frequently brought to his
+studio by Betty. He knew Peter only from having seen him in the
+treasured snapshots which his little daughter brought home with her from
+Oxford. He had to confess to himself--although his natural jealousy made
+him unwilling to do so--that Peter looked just the sort of man whom he
+would like his daughter to marry when her time came. And so he singled
+out Mrs. Guthrie almost at once and drew her aside. The breeze blew
+through his Viking beard, and a fellow-feeling brought into his eyes an
+expression of sympathy which immediately warmed Mrs. Guthrie's heart
+towards him. "I didn't want to come this afternoon, Mrs. Guthrie," he
+said. "Shall I explain why?"
+
+"No," said the little mother. "I quite understand."
+
+"Your boy and my girl are following the inevitable laws of nature, and
+it's rather hard luck for us both, isn't it?"
+
+Mrs. Guthrie put her handkerchief up to her mouth and nodded.
+
+"Betty's a good girl and I've only to look at you to know that the man
+to whom she's given her heart is a fine fellow. Well, it brings us up to
+another milestone, doesn't it?--one that I wish was still some years
+ahead. However, let's face it with pluck and with unselfishness, and be
+friends. Shall we?"
+
+"Please," said the little mother, giving him her hand.
+
+Ranken Townsend bared his head.
+
+And then Dr. Guthrie came up and peered at the man who was talking to
+his wife. He vaguely remembered the artist's picturesque appearance and
+fine open face, but he had forgotten his name.
+
+Mrs. Guthrie hurried to the rescue. "You remember Mr. Townsend, of
+course, Hunter," she said. "Betty's father, you know."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said the Doctor. "Of course I remember you, and I'm
+very delighted to see you again. You have friends coming on the
+_Oceanic_ too, then?"
+
+Townsend laughed. "No, I don't know anybody on her--not a soul. All the
+same I've come to meet your son."
+
+"Indeed! It's very kind of you, I'm sure." And then the Doctor suddenly
+remembered that sooner or later he'd be obliged to share Peter with the
+man who stood before him, and just for a moment he--like his wife and
+like the other father--felt the inevitable stab of jealousy. He covered
+it with a cordial smile. "What am I thinking about? Betty brought you,
+naturally. We must meet more often now, Mr. Townsend."
+
+"I should like nothing better. I don't know your boy yet except through
+his photographs and my having met his mother, but I'm very proud to know
+that my little girl is to bear a name that will always be honoured in
+this country."
+
+Dr. Guthrie blushed and bowed, and put his hand up to his tie nervously.
+
+It was a curious little meeting, this. All three parents were
+self-conscious and uncomfortable. They would have been antagonistic but
+for the very true human note that each recognized. They were all
+reminded of the unpleasant fact that they were in sight of a new and
+wide cross-road in their lives, along which they were presently to see
+two of their young people walking away together hand in hand. Parenthood
+has in it everything that is beautiful, but much that is disappointing
+and inevitable--much that brings pain and a sudden sense of loneliness.
+
+There was a very different ring in the conversation of Betty and Belle,
+who stood a few yards away surrounded by people of all the strange
+conglomerate nationalities which go to make up the population of the
+United States. Good-tempered, affectionate and excitable Hebrews were
+already shouting welcomes to their friends on the _Oceanic_, as the
+vessel drew slowly nearer. Temperamental Irish were alternately waving
+handkerchiefs and daubing their eyes with them, and others--of French,
+German, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, Russian and English extraction--were
+trying to discern the faces of those who were near and dear to them
+among the passengers who were leaning over the rails of the vessel. It
+was an animated and moving scene, very much more cheery than the ones
+which take place on the same spot when the great trans-Atlantic Liners
+slip out into the river.
+
+"Look!" cried Belle. "There's Nicholas. Isn't he absolutely and
+wonderfully English?"
+
+"And there's Peter!" said Betty, with a catch in her voice. "And isn't
+he splendidly American?"
+
+"Oh, I'm so excited I can hardly stand still. I've dreamed of this every
+night ever since we came home."
+
+"So have I. But this is better than dreams. Look! Peter has seen us.
+He's waving his hat. Even his hair seems to be sunburnt."
+
+Belle laughed, though her eyes were full of tears. "I can almost smell
+the violet stuff that Nicholas puts on his."
+
+Then there was the usual rush as the liner slid into her berth, and as
+Mrs. Guthrie was swept away with it, holding tight to Graham's arm, she
+said to herself: "He waved to Betty first. O God, make me brave!"
+
+All the same, it was the little mother to whom Peter went first as he
+came ashore, and he held her very tight, so that she could hardly
+breathe, and said: "Darling mum! How good to see you!" and there was
+something in that.
+
+The Doctor took his boy's big hand with less self-consciousness than
+usual. He wished that he might have had the pluck to kiss him on both
+cheeks and thus follow the excellent example of a little fat Frenchman
+who had nearly thrown him off his balance in his eagerness to welcome a
+thin, dark boy.
+
+"Hello, Belle! Hello, Graham! Hello, Ethel!" And then Peter stood in
+front of Betty, to whom he said nothing, but the kiss that he gave her
+meant more than the whole of a dictionary. "Oh, my Peter!" she
+whispered.
+
+Nicholas Kenyon followed with his most winning smile, and was cordially
+welcomed. He had charming things to say to everyone, especially to
+Belle. After close scrutiny, Ethel's inward criticism of him was that he
+had "escaped being Oxford."
+
+And then Ranken Townsend held out his hand. "But for me, Peter Guthrie,"
+he said, "you wouldn't have had a sweetheart. Shake!"
+
+A wave of color spread all over Peter's brown face. He grasped the
+outstretched hand. "I'm awfully glad to see you," he said.
+
+"And I'm awfully glad to see you." The artist measured the boy up. Yes,
+he was well satisfied. Here stood a man in whose clean eyes he
+recognized the spirit of a boy. Betty had chosen well. "Do you smoke a
+pipe?"
+
+"Well, rather."
+
+"I thought so. Bring it along to my studio as soon as your mother can
+spare you and we'll talk about life and love and the great hereafter. Is
+that a bet?"
+
+"That's a bet," said Peter. And he added, putting his mouth close to
+Betty's ear: "Darling, he's a corker! He likes me. Gee, that's fine!"
+Then he turned to his mother, ran his arm round her shoulder, walked her
+over to the place in the great echoing, bustling shed over which a huge
+"G" hung, and sat down with her on somebody else's trunk which had just
+been flung there, to wait with unapproving patience for that blessed
+time when one of the officialdom's chewing gods, having forced a prying
+hand among his shirts and underclothing, should mark his baggage with a
+magic cross and so permit him to reconnect himself with life.
+
+Nicholas Kenyon, as immaculate as though he had just emerged from a
+bandbox, slipped his hand surreptitiously into Belle's. "Are you glad to
+see me?" he asked, under his breath.
+
+Belle said nothing in reply, but the look that she gave him instead set
+that expert's blood racing through his veins and gave him something to
+look forward to that alone made it worth crossing a waste of unnecessary
+water.
+
+
+VI
+
+"A very pleasant domestic evening," said Kenyon, standing with his back
+to the fireplace of the library. "The bosom of this family is certainly
+very warm. Peter, my dear old boy, I had no idea that you were going to
+bring me to a house in which a Prime Minister or the President of the
+Royal Academy might be very proud to dwell. Also, may I congratulate
+you upon your little sister? She's a humorist. I found myself
+furbishing up all my epigrams when I spoke to her. By Jove, she's like a
+Baliol blood with his hair in a braid."
+
+A quiet chuckle came from Graham, who was sitting on the arm of a big
+deep chair, looking up at Kenyon with the sort of admiration that is
+paid by a student to his master. "I don't know anything about Baliol
+bloods," he said, "but Ethel takes a lot of beating. When she quoted
+Bernard Shaw, at dinner, father nearly swallowed his fork."
+
+Peter was sitting on the table, swinging his legs.
+
+"Oh, she'll be all right when she gets away from her school. She'll grow
+younger every day then. What awful places they are--these American girl
+schools. They seem to inject into their victims a sort of liquid
+artificiality. It takes a lot of living down. Upon my soul, I hardly
+knew the kid! Two years have made a most tremendous difference in her. I
+thought I should throw a fit when she looked at me just now in the
+drawing-room and said: 'The childish influence of Oxford has left you
+almost unspoiled, Peter, dear.'"
+
+Kenyon laughed. "Excellent!" he said. "I know the English flapper pretty
+well. It'll give me extreme delight to play Columbus among the American
+variety of the species." He looked round the beautiful room with an
+approving eye. "That must have been a very civilized old gentleman who
+made this collection. I wonder if he bought some of the books from
+Thrapstone-Wynyates! My father was forced to sell some of them shortly
+after he succeeded to the title. As the long arm of coincidence
+frequently stretches across the Atlantic, I should like to think that
+some of the first editions in which my grandfather took so high a pride
+have found their way into an atmosphere so entirely pleasant as this.
+One of these fine days, Peter, they may raise a little necessary bullion
+for you."
+
+"I hope not," said Peter.
+
+Graham got up. "It's only eleven o'clock. Suppose we get out and see
+something. Everybody's gone to bed, we shan't be missed."
+
+"A very brainy notion," said Kenyon, "but what's there to do?"
+
+"Oodles of things," said Graham.
+
+"Well, lead the way. I'm with you. The dull monotony of life aboard a
+liner has given me a thirst for twinkling ankles, the clash of cymbals
+and the glare of the lime-light. You with us, Peter?"
+
+"Yes, unless--one second." He went over to the telephone that stood on a
+small table in a far corner of the room, looked up a number in the book,
+asked for it and hung on.
+
+Kenyon shot a wink at Graham. "Get your hat, old boy," he said. "Peter
+would a-wooing go. He's the most desperately thorough person." And he
+added inwardly: "Hang that girl."
+
+"Can I speak to Mr. Townsend? Oh, is that you, Mr. Townsend? Peter
+Guthrie, yes. May I come round and have a jaw--? Thanks, awfully! I'll
+get a taxi right away." He turned back to the other two men. "Great
+work," he said. "You two will have to go alone to-night. However, we've
+a thousand years in front of us. See you at breakfast. So long!"
+
+"Wait a second," said Graham. "I'll ring up a taxi and we'll all ride
+down together."
+
+"Right-o!" said Peter. "I'll rush up to my room and get a pipe."
+
+When he came down again he found Kenyon and Graham waiting at the open
+door. A taxicab was chugging on the curbstone. Kenyon got in first, with
+his long cigarette holder between his teeth and a rakish-looking opera
+hat balanced over his left eye. He carried a thin black overcoat. All
+about him there was the very essence of Piccadilly. Peter sat beside him
+and Graham opposite. The cab turned round, crossed Madison into Fifth
+Avenue and went quickly downtown. The great wide street, as shiny as
+that of the Champs Elysee, was comparatively clear of traffic. Peter
+looked at the passing houses with the intense and affectionate interest
+of the man who comes home again. At the corner of West Forty-second
+Street Graham stopped the cab. "It's only a short walk to the best of
+the cabarets," he said; "we'll let Peter go straight on. Come on,
+Nicholas, bundle out."
+
+"Where are we going?" asked Kenyon, making a graceful exit.
+
+"Louis Martin's, old boy," said Graham.
+
+"Pretty hot stuff, I hope. Au revoir, Peter. Do your best to make the
+bearded paint merchant like you. You'll have some difficulty." And with
+that parting shot, contradicted by one of the winning smiles which he
+had inherited from his delightful but unscrupulous father, Nicholas
+Kenyon took Graham's arm and these two walked away in high spirits.
+
+When the cab stopped at the high building on the corner of Gramercy
+Park, its door was opened by Ranken Townsend. "I timed you to arrive
+about now, my lad," he said cordially. "I took the opportunity of
+getting some air. It's mighty good to-night. Come right up." He
+continued to talk in the elevator, which had a long way to go. "Betty
+has gone to a party. You may meet her mother, I'm not sure. She's out at
+one of her meetings--she spends her life at meetings--and if she comes
+in tired, as she generally does, she probably won't come into the
+studio. However, that need only be a pleasure deferred. Do you speak? If
+so, she'll nail you for one of her platforms."
+
+"I,--speak?" said Peter, with a shudder. "I'd rather be shot."
+
+Townsend laughed, led the way into his apartment and into the studio. In
+the dim light of one reading lamp which stood on a small table at the
+side of a low divan, the room looked larger than it was. It reeked with
+the good ripe smell of pipe tobacco and seemed to be pervaded with the
+personality of the man who spent most of his life in it. One of the top
+windows was open and through it came the refreshing air that blew up
+from the Hudson. Peter caught a glimpse of the sky, which was alive with
+stars. It was a good place. He liked it. Work was done there. It
+inspired him.
+
+The artist took Peter's hat and coat and hung them in the alcove. Then
+he went across the room and turned up the light that hung over a canvas.
+"How d'you like it?" he asked.
+
+Peter gave an involuntary cry. There sat Betty with her hands folded in
+her lap. To Peter she seemed to have been caught at the very moment when
+from his place at her feet he looked up at her just before he held her
+in his arms for the first time. Her face was alight and her eyes full of
+tenderness. It was an exquisite piece of work.
+
+Townsend turned out the light. He was well pleased with its effect.
+Peter's face was far better than several columns of printed eulogy. "Now
+come and sit down," he said. "Try this mixture. It took me five years to
+discover it, but since then I've used no other." He threw himself on the
+settee and settled his untidy head among the cushions.
+
+The light shone on Peter's strong profile, and when Townsend looked at
+it he saw there all that he hoped to see, and something else. There was
+a little smile round the boy's mouth and a look in his eyes that showed
+all the warmth of his heart.
+
+"And so you love my little girl as much as that? Well, she deserves it,
+but please don't take her away from me yet. I can't spare her. She and
+my work are all I've got, and I'm not lying when I say that she comes
+first. Generally when a man reaches my age he has lived down his
+dependence on other people for happiness and his work has become his
+mistress, his wife and his children. In my case that isn't so, and my
+little girl is the best I have. She keeps me young, Peter. She renders
+my disappointments almost null and void, and she encourages me not
+wholly to sacrifice myself to the filthy dollar--an easy temptation I
+can assure you. So don't be in too great a hurry to take my little bird
+away and build a nest for her in another tree. Does that sound very
+selfish to you?"
+
+"No," said Peter; "I understand. Besides--good Lord!--I've got to work
+before I can make a place good enough for her. I've come back to begin."
+
+"I see! Fine! I thought perhaps that Oxford might have taken some of the
+good American grit out of you. It just occurred to me that you might be
+going to let your father keep you while you continue to remain an
+undergraduate out here in life. A good many of our young men with
+wealthy fathers play that game, believe me."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Peter, "but there's something in my blood,--I think
+it's porridge,--that urges me to do things for myself. Besides, I
+believe that there's a feeling of gratitude somewhere about me that
+makes me want to pay back my father for all that he's done. I'm most
+awfully keen to do that, Mr. Townsend! His money has come by accident.
+I'm not going to take advantage of it. I'm going to start in just as if
+he were the same hard-working doctor that he used to be when he sent me
+to Harvard, skinning himself to do so. I think he'll like that. Anyway,
+that's my plan. And as to Oxford,--well, I should have to be a pretty
+rotten sort of a dog if I didn't gain something there--that wonderful
+place out of which men have gone, for centuries, all the better for
+having rushed over its quads and churned up the water of its little old
+river and stood humbly in its chapels. Don't you think so?"
+
+"I do indeed, my dear lad; but somehow or other the younger generation
+doesn't seem to take advantage of those things, and the sight of the
+young men of the present day and their callous acceptance of their
+fathers' efforts make me thank God that I never had a boy. I should be
+afraid. Think of that! What are you going to do, Peter? What is your
+line of work?"
+
+"The law."
+
+"The law? Well, I guess that's a queer sort of maze to put yourself
+into. An honest man in the law is like a rabbit in a dog kennel. Is that
+your definite decision?"
+
+"Absolutely," said Peter. "I chose the law for that reason. I think that
+honesty is badly needed in it. I've got a dream that one of these days I
+shall be a judge and make things a bit easier for all the poor devils
+who have made mistakes."
+
+"God help you!"
+
+"I shall ask him to," said Peter.
+
+The artist looked up quickly. In his further keen and rather wistful
+scrutiny of the great big square-shouldered man with the strong, clean
+jaw-line and the firm mouth there was a little astonishment. "Do you
+mean to tell me that in the middle of these queer undisciplined,
+individualistic times you believe in God?"
+
+The room remained in silence for a moment, until Peter leaned forward
+and knocked out his pipe. "If I didn't believe in God," he replied
+quietly, "would you be quite so ready to trust Betty to me?"
+
+At that moment the door was swung open and a tall, stout, hard-bosomed
+woman with a mass of white hair and the carriage of a battleship sailed
+in. Her evening clothes glistened with sequins and many large beads
+rattled as she came forward. She wore a string of pearls and several
+diamond rings. Unable to fight any longer against advancing years and
+preserve what had evidently been quite remarkable good looks, she had
+cultivated a presence and developed distinction. In any meeting of women
+she was inevitably voted to the chair, and in the natural order of
+things became president of all the Societies to which she attached
+herself, except one. In this isolated case the woman who supplanted her,
+for the time being, was even taller, stouter and harder of bosom,--in
+fact, a born president.
+
+The two men rose.
+
+"Ah, Ranken, still up, then! I half-expected to find the studio in
+darkness. You'll be glad to hear that we passed a unanimous resolution
+to-night condemning this country as a republic and asking that it shall
+become a monarchy forthwith."
+
+Townsend refrained from looking at Peter. "Indeed!" he said gravely. "An
+evening well spent. But I want you to know Peter Guthrie, Dr. Hunter
+Guthrie's eldest son, just home from Oxford."
+
+Mrs. Townsend extended a large well-formed hand. "Let me see! What do I
+know about you? You're the young man who--Oh, now I remember. You're
+engaged to Betty. But before I forget it, and as you are just out of
+Oxford, I'll put you down to speak at the annual meeting next Tuesday at
+the Waldorf, of the Society for the Reconstruction of University
+Systems. Your subject will be 'Oxford as a Menace to the Younger
+Generation.' There will be no fee--I beg your pardon?"
+
+Peter's face was a study in conflicting emotions. He looked like a
+lonely man being run away with in a car that he was wholly unable to
+drive. Townsend turned a burst of laughter into a rasping cough. "You're
+awfully kind," said Peter, almost stammering. "But I believe in Oxford."
+
+"Ah! Then you shall say so to the Society for the Encouragement of
+Universities, on Thursday at eight sharp, at the St. Mary's Public
+School Building, Brooklyn."
+
+"As a matter of fact, I don't speak," said Peter. "I--I never speak."
+
+"Why, then, you shall be one of the chief thinkers at the bi-monthly
+meeting of the Californian Cogitators. I'm not going to let you off, so
+make up your mind to that. And now I'm going to bed. I'm as tired as a
+dog. Good-bye, Paul,--I mean Peter. Expect me to call you up one day
+soon. There's so much to do with this world chaos that we must all put
+our hands to the wheel." And with a wave of her hand, Mrs. Townsend
+sailed majestically away.
+
+Peter gasped for breath and the artist subsided into the divan and gave
+way to an attack--a very spasm--of laughter, which left him limp and
+weak.
+
+"Never allow Betty to get bitten by the meeting-bug, son," he said, when
+he had recovered. "It isn't any fun to be married to a bunch of
+pamphlets. What! Are you off now?"
+
+"I'm afraid I've kept you up, as it is, Mr. Townsend. I--I want to thank
+you for your immense kindness to me. I shall always remember it. Good
+night!"
+
+Rankin Townsend got up, stood in front of Peter for a moment and looked
+straight at him. He was serious again. "Good night, my dear lad," he
+said. "I feel that I can trust Betty to you and that takes a load off my
+mind. Come often and stay later."
+
+Peter walked all the way home along Madison Avenue. That part, at any
+rate, of the great sleepless city was resting and quiet, and the boy's
+quick footsteps echoed through the empty street. He was glad to be back
+again in New York--glad and thankful. Somewhere, in one of her big
+buildings, was his love-girl--the woman who was to be his wife--the
+reason of his having been born into the world. No wonder he believed in
+God.
+
+
+VII
+
+The following afternoon Peter was to call at the apartment-house on
+Gramercy Park at half-past-four. He had arranged to take Betty for a
+walk,--a good long tramp. There were heaps of things that he wanted to
+tell her and hear, and several points on which he wanted to ask her
+advice. He was not merely punctual, as becomes a man who is head over
+heels in love--he was ten minutes before his time. All the same, he
+found Betty waiting for him in the hall, talking to a big burly Irishman
+who condescended to act as hall-porter and who looked not unlike a
+brigadier-general in his rather over-smart uniform. This man had known
+Betty for many years and watched her grow up; had received many
+kindnesses from her and had seen her bend by the hour over the cot of
+his own little girl when she was ill. His face was a study when he saw
+Peter bound into the place, catch sight of Betty and take her in his
+arms, and without a single touch of self-consciousness pour out a burst
+of incoherent joy at being with her once more.
+
+Catching his expression, in which surprise, resentment and a sort of
+jealousy were all mixed, Betty said, when she got a chance: "Peter, this
+is a friend of mine, Mr. O'Grady."
+
+Peter turned and held out his hand. "How are you? All Miss Townsend's
+friends have got to be my friends now."
+
+The Irishman's vanity was greatly appealed to by the simple manliness
+of Peter's greeting, his cheery smile and his utter lack of side. He
+smiled back and, having given the hand a warm grip, drew himself up and
+saluted. At one time he had served in the British Army, and he wanted
+Peter to know it. He would have told him the story of his life then and
+there with, very likely, a few picturesque additions, but before he
+could arrange his opening sentence the two young people were out in the
+street. He watched them go off together, the one so broad and big, the
+other so slight and sweet, and said to himself, rolling a new quid of
+tobacco between his fingers: "Ah, thin; it's love's young dream once
+more! And it's a man he is. God bless both of them!"
+
+"Are you feeling strong to-day, darling?" asked Peter.
+
+"Strong as a lion," said Betty. "Why?"
+
+"Because I'm going to walk you up the Avenue and into the Park and about
+six times round the reservoir. Can you stand it?"
+
+Betty laughed. "Try me, and if I faint from exhaustion you can carry me
+into the street and call a taxicab. I'm not afraid of anything with
+you."
+
+"That's fine! This is the first time we've been really alone since I
+came back. It'll take from now until the middle of next week to tell you
+even half the things I've got to say. First of all, I love you."
+
+"_Darling_ Peter."
+
+"I love you more than I ever did, much more--a hundred times more--and I
+don't care who hears me say so." That was true. He made this statement,
+not in a whisper, but in his natural voice, and it was overheard by
+several passers-by who turned their heads,--and being women, smiled
+sympathetically and went on their way with the deep thrill of the young
+giant's voice ringing in their ears like music.
+
+They stood for a moment on the curbstone trying to find an opportunity
+to cross the street. Betty gave herself up to the masterly person at her
+side without a qualm. She adored being led by the arm through traffic
+which she wouldn't have dared to dodge had she been alone. It gave her a
+new and splendid sense of security and dependence.
+
+The rain had begun to fall softly. It gathered strength as they turned
+into Fifth Avenue, and came down smartly. Betty didn't intend to say a
+word about the fact that she was wearing a new hat. It had escaped
+Peter's notice. Her face was all he saw. He wasn't even aware that it
+was raining until he took her arm and found her sleeve was wet.
+
+"Good Lord!" he said. "This won't do. Dash this rain, it's going to
+spoil our walk. Where can we go? I know." A line of taxis was standing
+on a stand. He opened the door of the first one. "Pop in, baby," he
+said. "We'll drive to the Ritz and have tea. I can't have you getting
+wet."
+
+Betty popped in, not really so profoundly sorry to escape that strenuous
+walk as Peter was.
+
+Being a wise man he took full advantage of the taxicab, and for all the
+fact that it was broad daylight and that anybody who chose could watch
+him, he gave Betty a series of kisses which did something to make up
+for lost time and a long separation. The new hat suffered rather in the
+process, but what did that matter? This was love. Hats could be
+replaced--such a love as his, never.
+
+"Your father is a great chap," said Peter. "We had a good yarn last
+night. By Jove! I wish my father had something of his friendly way. I
+felt that there was nothing I couldn't tell him--nothing that he
+wouldn't understand. Well, well; there it is. Graham and I will have to
+worry along as best we may. Everything'll come out all right, I hope."
+
+"How did you like mother?" asked Betty.
+
+"Well," said Peter, considering his answer with the greatest care,
+"she's undoubtedly a wonderful woman, but she scares me to death. The
+very first thing she did was to ask me to speak at one of her meetings."
+
+Betty burst out laughing. "What--? Already? When are you speaking? What
+are you going to say?"
+
+"Good Lord! What can I say? I can recite the Jabberwocky or the alphabet
+in English, French and American, but that finishes my repertory. Can you
+see me standing on a platform as white as a sheet trying to stammer out
+a few idiotic sentences to a room full of women? Look here! You've got
+to get it out of her head that I can be of the slightest use to her.
+Tell her I stutter, or that I've got no roof to my mouth--anything you
+like--but, for goodness sake, have my name taken off her list. Will you
+promise that? Already I wake up in the middle of the night in an
+absolute panic."
+
+"Don't worry," said Betty, "Mother's a very strong-minded woman, but
+she's awfully easy to manage. And now I want you to promise me
+something."
+
+"Anything in the world," said Peter.
+
+"Well, then, don't mistake the Ritz for that dear little open place
+where the fairies dance, and suddenly kiss me in front of the band and
+all the people having tea."
+
+"Hard luck," said Peter. "I'll do the best I can. But you're such an
+angel and you look so frightfully nice that I shall have all I can do to
+keep sane."
+
+The cab drew up and they got out, went through the silly swinging doors
+which separate a man from his girl for a precious moment and into the
+Palm Court where the band was playing. Peter gave his hat and stick to a
+disgruntled waiter, who would have told him to check them outside but
+for his height and width.
+
+The place was extraordinarily full for the time of year. Everywhere
+there were women, and every one of them was wearing some sort of erect
+feather in her hat. It gave the place the appearance of a large chicken
+run after a prolonged fracas. The band was playing the emotional music
+of _La Boheme_. It was in its best form. The waiter led them to a little
+table under a mimic window-sill which was crowded with plants. Many
+heads turned after them as they adventured between the chattering
+groups. It was so easy to see that their impending marriage had been
+arranged in Heaven.
+
+"What sort of tea do you like?" asked Peter. "Anything hot and wet, or
+have you a choice? Really, I don't know the difference between one and
+another."
+
+But Betty did. Hadn't she kept house for her father? "Orange Pekoe tea,"
+she said, "and buttered toast."
+
+Peter made it so, and in sitting down nearly knocked over the table. He
+was too big for such places and his legs got in the way of everything.
+At the other end of the room Kenyon was sitting with Belle. Betty had
+seen them at once, but she held her peace. For the first time in her
+life she appreciated the fact that two is company. Both men were too
+occupied to recognize anybody.
+
+Peter was very happy and full of enthusiasm about everything, and Betty
+was an eager listener as he talked about her and himself and the future,
+while she poured out the tea. It was all very delightful and domestic
+and new and exhilarating, and it didn't require much imagination on the
+part of either of them to believe that they were sitting in their own
+house, far away from people, and that Peter had just come home after a
+long day's work, and that the band was their new Victrola performing in
+the corner. Only one thing made Betty aware of the fact that they were
+in the Ritz Hotel, and that was the pattern of the teacups. She never
+would have chosen such things, and if they had been given to her as a
+wedding present she would have packed them away in some far-off
+cupboard. She had already made up her mind that their first tea service
+was going to be blue-and-white, because it would go with her
+drawing-room,--the drawing-room which she had furnished in her dreams.
+
+"I don't think you'd better do that, Peter," whispered Betty suddenly.
+
+"Do what, darling?" Butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth.
+
+"Why, hold my hand. Everybody can see."
+
+"Not if you put it behind this end of the tablecloth. Besides, what if
+they can? I'm not ashamed of being in love. Are you?"
+
+"No; I glory in it. But----"
+
+"But what?" He held it tighter.
+
+"I think you'd better give it back to me. There's an old lady frowning."
+
+"Oh, she's only a poor benighted spinster. And anyhow she's not
+frowning. She put her eyebrows on in the dark."
+
+"Very well, Peter. I suppose you know best." And Betty made no further
+attempts to rescue her hand.
+
+She had two good reasons for leaving it there,--the first, that she
+liked it, and the second that she couldn't take it away. But she made
+sure that it was hidden by the tablecloth.
+
+"Won't you smoke, Peter?"
+
+"Oh, thanks. May I?"
+
+"All the other men are."
+
+Peter took out his case and his cigarette holder. It was very easy to
+take out a cigarette with one hand, but for the life of him he couldn't
+manoeuvre it into the tube. Was he so keen to smoke that he would let
+her hand go?
+
+He gave it up and broke into a smile that almost made Betty bend forward
+and plant a resounding kiss on his square chin. "Well, I'm dashed," he
+said. "I believe you asked me to smoke on purpose to get free."
+
+"I did," she said. "Peter, you're--you're just a darling."
+
+And that was why he upset the glass of water.
+
+Presently he said, when peace was restored: "What d'you think I've done
+to-day? I've fixed up a seat in the law office of two friends of mine.
+They were at Harvard with me--corkers both. I intend to start work next
+week. Isn't that fine? We're going to mop up all the work in the city.
+Darling, that apartment of ours is getting nearer and nearer. I shall be
+a tired business man soon and shall want a home to go to, with a little
+wife waiting for me."
+
+And Betty said: "How soon do you think that'll be?"
+
+Before Peter could answer, Belle's ringing voice broke in. She and
+Kenyon had come up unnoticed. "The turtle doves," she said. "Isn't it
+beautiful, Nick?"
+
+"Well, rather!"
+
+And the spell was broken. They little knew, these two who were so happy,
+that in the fertile brain of the man who stood smiling at them was the
+germ of a plan which would break their engagement and bring a black
+cloud over the scene.
+
+
+VIII
+
+The family dined early that evening. Graham had taken a box at the
+Maxine Elliott Theatre. He and Kenyon and Peter were to take Belle and
+Betty there to see a play by Edward Sheldon, about which everybody was
+talking. Little Mrs. Guthrie, who was to have been one of the party, had
+decided to stay at home, because the Doctor was not feeling very well,
+and so she was going to sit with him in the library and see that he went
+to bed early, and give him a dose of one of those old-fashioned cures in
+which she was a great believer.
+
+Naturally enough, although he was not an ardent play-goer, Peter was
+looking forward with keen pleasure to the evening because he would be
+able to sit close to Betty and from time to time whisper in her ear.
+During dinner, however, which was a very merry meal, with Kenyon keeping
+everyone in fits of laughter, Peter caught something in his mother's
+eyes which made him revolutionize his plans. The little mother laughed
+as frequently as the rest of them,--to the casual observer she was merry
+and bright, with nothing on her mind except the slight indisposition of
+the Doctor. But Peter, who possessed an intuitive eye which had a knack
+of seeing underneath the surface of things and whose keen sympathy for
+those he loved was very easily stirred, became aware of the fact that
+his mother was only simulating light-heartedness and stood in need of
+something from him.
+
+He threw his mind back quickly, and in a moment knew what was wrong.
+During the short time that he had been back in the city he had forgotten
+to give his little mother anything of himself. That was wrong and
+ungrateful and extremely selfish, and must be remedied at once.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation he decided to cut two acts of the play and
+do everything that he could to prove to the little mother who meant so
+much to him that, although he was engaged to be married, she still
+retained her place in his heart.
+
+Dinner over, he went quickly to the door and opened it, and as his
+mother passed out he put his arm round her shoulders and whispered,
+"Mummie, dear, slip up to your room and wait there for me. I want to
+talk to you." The look of gratitude that he received from the dear
+little woman was an immense reward for his unselfishness. Then he went
+up to Graham and said: "Look here, old boy, I find I shan't be able to
+go along with you now, but I'll join you for the last act."
+
+"Oh, rot!" said Graham. "What's up? Betty'll be awfully upset."
+
+"No, she won't," said Peter. "I'm going to send her a note." And while
+the others were getting ready, he dashed off a few lines to the girl
+who, like himself, understood the family feeling. It contained only a
+few lines, but they were characteristically Peterish and were calculated
+to make Betty add one more brick to the beautiful construction of her
+love for him, because they showed that he understood women and their
+sensitiveness and realized their urgent need of tenderness and
+appreciation.
+
+As soon as the party had driven away, Peter collected a pipe and a tin
+of tobacco and went quickly up the wide staircase. He rushed into his
+mother's own particular room with all his old impetuosity and found her
+sitting at a table by the side of a great work-basket in which he saw a
+large collection of the socks that he had brought home with him and
+which stood badly in need of motherly attention. No man in this world
+made so many or such quick holes in the toes of his socks as Peter did,
+and he knew that she had ransacked the drawers to find them. He drew up
+a chair, thrust his long legs out in front of him and made himself
+completely comfortable.
+
+This little room was unlike any other in the house. In it his mother had
+placed all the pet pieces of inexpensive furniture which had been in the
+sitting-room of the little house in which she and the Doctor had settled
+down when they were first married. It was unpretentious stuff, bought in
+a cheap store in a small town,--what is called "Mission"
+furniture,--curious, uncomfortable-looking chairs which creaked with
+every movement, odd little sideboards, which would have brought a grin
+either of pain or amusement to the face of the former owner of the
+beautifully furnished house which had been left to the Doctor. The
+walls were covered with photographs of the family in all stages,--Peter
+as a chubby baby with a great curl on top of his head--Belle in a
+perambulator smiling widely at a colored nurse--Graham in his first
+sailor-suit--Ethel bravely arrayed in a party frock, "Thinking of
+Mother"--and over the mantel-piece one--an enlargement--of the Doctor
+taken when he was a young man, with an unlined face and thick, straight
+hair, his jaws set with that grim determination which had carried him
+over so many obstacles. It was a room at which Graham, Belle and Ethel
+frequently laughed. But Peter liked it and respected it. He felt more at
+home there than anywhere else in the house. It reminded him of the early
+struggles of his father and mother and touched every responsive note in
+his nature.
+
+"I'm sorry you're not going to the theatre, dear," said Mrs. Guthrie.
+
+"No, you're not," said Peter.
+
+"Oh, indeed I am. I like you to enjoy yourself with the others, and
+Betty'll be there. Only stay a few minutes; and, as the curtain always
+goes up late, you'll be in time to see the whole of the play."
+
+"Blow the play!" said Peter. "I'm going to talk to you just as long as I
+like. I can go to the theatre any night of the week."
+
+Mrs. Guthrie dropped her work, bent forward and put her cheek against
+Peter's. "You're a dear, dear boy," she said. "You're my very own Peter,
+and even if I were a poet I couldn't find words to tell you how happy
+you make me; but I did my best not to let you see that I was just a wee
+bit hurt because you haven't had time to spare me a few moments since
+you came home. After all, I'm only a little old mother now, and I must
+try to remember that."
+
+"Oh, don't," said Peter. "I'm awfully sorry I've been such a thoughtless
+brute. But, no one--no, no one--can ever take your place, and you know
+it." He went down on his knees at her side and wrapped his strong arms
+round her and put his head upon her breast as he used to do when he was
+a little chap, and remained there for a while perfectly happy.
+
+He couldn't see the Madonna look which came into the eyes of the little
+mother, whose pillow had frequently been wet with tears at the thought
+that she had lost her boy. Nor did he see the expression of extreme
+gratitude which spread rather pathetically over her face. But he felt
+these things and held her tightly just to show how well he understood,
+and to eliminate from her heart that feeling of pain which he knew had
+crept into it because he had found that other little mother who was to
+be his wife and have sons of her own.
+
+Presently he returned to his chair and to his pipe, and began to talk.
+"By gad!" he said, "it's good to be home again. I find myself looking at
+everything differently now--quite time, too. I should have been at work
+years ago. Universities are great places and I shall never regret
+Oxford, but they take a long time to prepare a fellow to become a man."
+Then he laughed one of his great and big laughs, and his chair creaked
+and one or two of the old pieces of furniture seemed to rattle. "I hid
+those socks, but I knew you'd find them. What a mother you are, mother!
+I'll make a bet with you."
+
+"I never bet," said Mrs. Guthrie, who was all smiles.
+
+"I'll bet you a hundred dollars you never mend Graham's socks. Now then
+tell the truth."
+
+"Well, no, I don't. He doesn't like socks that have been mended; and,
+anyway, he isn't my first-born. You see that makes a lot of difference."
+
+"There you are," said Peter. "Pay up and smile. Oh, say; I'm sorry
+father's seedy. He sticks too closely to those microbes of his. I shall
+try to screw up courage and take him on a bust now and then. It'll do
+him good. Think he'll go?"
+
+Mrs. Guthrie looked up eagerly. "Try," she said. "Please do try. Now
+that you've come home for good I want you to do everything you can to
+get closer to your father. He's a splendid man and he's always thinking
+about you and the others, but I know that he'll never make the first
+move. He doesn't seem to understand how to do it. But he deserves
+everything you can give him. If only you could break down his shyness
+and diffidence,--because that's what it is,--you'd make him very happy."
+
+"Yes, that's what I think," said Peter. "I've been thinking it over,
+especially since I saw the way in which Kenyon's father treats him. I
+shall pluck up courage one of these nights, beard him in his den and
+have it out, and put things straight. I want him much more than he wants
+me; and, d'you know, I think that Graham wants him too."
+
+"I'm sure he does," said Mrs. Guthrie. "Graham's a good boy, but he's
+very reckless and thinks that he's older than he is. He comes to me
+sometimes with his troubles, but how can I help him? I wish, Peter, I do
+wish that he'd go sometimes to his father!"
+
+"Well, I'm going to try to alter all that," said Peter. "It's got to be
+done somehow. Father's always been afraid of us, and we've always been
+afraid of father. It's silly. What d'you think of Nicholas? Isn't he a
+corker?"
+
+Mrs. Guthrie smiled. "He improves on acquaintance," she said. "He's
+certainly one of the most charming men I've ever met. Do you think"--she
+lowered her voice a little--"do you think there's anything between him
+and Belle?"
+
+"Good Lord!" said Peter. "I never thought of that. Is there?"
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Guthrie, "I've noticed one or two little things. He's
+been writing to her, you know."
+
+"Has he? By Jove! Well, then, there must be something in it. He's a lazy
+beggar and I don't believe I've ever seen him write a letter in his
+life. Gee, I shall be awfully glad to have him for a brother-in-law!
+That topping place in Shropshire! Belle would make an absolutely perfect
+mistress of it, although there's plenty of life in the old man yet. By
+Jove, it was good to see the relationship between Nick and his father.
+It staggered me. Why, they were as good as friends. They go about arm in
+arm and tell each other everything. It used to make me feel quite sick
+sometimes. Think of my going about arm in arm with father!"
+
+"Think of Belle becoming the Countess of Shropshire! I should like that.
+It would be another feather in your father's cap,--your father who used
+to carry siphons in a basket."
+
+"More power to his elbow," said Peter. "It might have been better for me
+if I'd carried siphons in a basket. After all, I'm inclined to believe
+that there's no university in the world like the streets. Think of all
+the men who've graduated from windy corners and muddy gutters--It'd be a
+fine thing for Ethel, too, if Belle marries Nick. Isn't she an
+extraordinary kid? Upon my word, she takes my breath away. She's older
+at sixteen than most women are at thirty. By the way, what's the matter
+with her? What's anaemia, anyhow? She looks as fit as a fiddle."
+
+"Oh, she'll soon get over that," said Mrs. Guthrie. "I think they bend
+too much over books at her school. You know the modern girl isn't like
+the girls of my generation. I didn't have to learn geometry or piano
+playing. I didn't think it was necessary to know Euclid or a smattering
+of the classics. We learned how to make bread and cook a good steak and
+iron clothes. You know husbands don't come home to hear Mozart on a Baby
+Grand and enter into discussions about writers with crack-jaw names."
+
+"I know,--Ibsen, Schopenhauer, Hauptmann and Tolstoy. No; they don't
+fill a hungry tummie, do they?"
+
+"No, indeed they don't," said Mrs. Guthrie. "And that reminds me that I
+must go and give your father his little dose. When a doctor isn't well
+he never knows how to look after himself." She got up and put down her
+work, and then bent over Peter. "Thank you for coming up to-night, my
+dearest boy. I've had a queer little pain in my heart for a long time,
+but you've taken it all away. Now run along and see your Betty, and
+don't worry about your little mother any longer."
+
+Peter got up and put his hands on his mother's shoulders. "Listen!" he
+said. "I love you. I shall always love you. No woman shall ever come
+between me and you." And he caught her in his arms and kissed her.
+
+And then she bustled down-stairs to the library, where the Doctor was
+taking it easy for once and dipping into one of the numerous books that
+surrounded him. There was a smile on Mrs. Guthrie's face which was like
+the sun on an autumn morning.
+
+On the way to his bedroom Peter passed the door of Ethel's room, and
+drew up short. He had heard her say she was going to bed early. He
+hadn't had many words with her since he got back. So he decided to go in
+and wipe off that debt, too. When he tried to open the door he found
+that it was locked. He started a devil's tattoo with his knuckles. "Are
+you there, Kid?" he shouted out.
+
+The answer was "Yes."
+
+"Well, then, open the door. I want to come in."
+
+After a moment the door was opened and Ethel stood there in a very
+becoming peignoir. She looked extremely disconcerted and did her best
+to block the way into the room.
+
+But that wouldn't do for Peter. "What's all this?" he asked. "We lock
+our door now, do we?"
+
+"Yes, sometimes," said Ethel. "Why aren't you at the theatre?" She shot
+a surreptitious glance towards the window, which was open.
+
+"I've been having a talk with mother," said Peter. "Hello! I see you've
+been trigging up your room. Frightfully swagger now, isn't it. New art,
+eh? You're coming on, my dear, there's no mistake about that. I'm afraid
+you find us all appallingly provincial, don't you?"
+
+The broad grin on Peter's face was no new thing to Ethel. He had always
+pulled her leg and treated her as though she were a sort of freak. All
+the same, she liked his coming in and was flattered to know that he
+thought it worth while to bother about her. But she began to edge him to
+the door. He had come at a most unpropitious moment.
+
+"Oh ho!" said Peter. "So this's what higher education does for you? A
+nice mixture--cigarettes and candies--I must say. Now I know why you
+locked your door. With a marshmallow in one hand and an Egyptian Beauty
+in the other you lie on your sofa in the latest thing in peignoirs and
+see life through the pages of,--what?" He picked up a book from the
+table. "Good Lord!" he added; "you don't mean to say you stuff this
+piffle into you?" It was a collection of plays by Strindberg.
+
+"Oh, go to the theatre!" said Ethel. "You're being horridly Oxford now
+and I hate it."
+
+"You'll get a lot more of it before I've done with you," said Peter.
+"All the same, you look very nice, my dear. I'm very proud of you, and I
+hope you will do me the honour to be seen about with me sometimes. But
+how about taking some of that powder off your nose? If you begin trying
+to hide it at sixteen it'll be lost altogether at twenty." He made a
+sudden pounce at her and holding both her hands so that she could not
+scratch, rubbed all the powder away from her little proud nose and made
+for the door, just missing the cushion which came flying after him, and
+took himself and his big laugh along the passage.
+
+Immensely relieved at being left alone, Ethel locked the door again and
+went over to her dressing-table, where she repaired damage with quick,
+deft fingers. With another glance at the window,--a glance in which
+there was some impatience,--she arranged herself on the settee to wait.
+
+
+IX
+
+No wonder Peter had made remarks about this room. It was deliciously
+characteristic of its owner. Large and airy; all its furniture was white
+and its hangings were of creamy cretonne covered with little rosebuds.
+The narrow bed was tucked away in a corner so that the writing-desk, the
+sofa and the revolving book-stand--on which stood a bowl of mammoth
+chrysanthemums--might dominate the room. Several mezzotints of Watts'
+pictures hung on the walls and a collection of framed illustrations of
+the Arabian Nights, by Dulac. The whole effect was one of naive
+sophistication.
+
+Through the open window the various sounds of the city's activity
+floated rather pleasantly. There was even a note of cheerfulness in the
+insistent bells of the trolley-cars on Madison Avenue and the chugging
+of a taxicab on the other side of the street. Before many minutes had
+gone by a rope ladder dangled outside the window, and this was followed
+immediately afterwards by the lithe and wiry figure of a boy. Wearing a
+rather sheepish expression he remained sitting on the sill, swinging his
+legs. "Hello!" said he. "How are you feeling?"
+
+"There's some improvement to-night," said Ethel. "Won't you come in?
+Were you waiting for a signal?"
+
+"You bet!"
+
+He was a nice boy, with a frank, honest face, a blunt nose and a
+laughing mouth. His hair was dark and thick, and his shoulders square.
+He was eighteen and he looked every day of it. He lived next door and
+was the son of a man who owned a line of steamships and a French mother,
+who was not on speaking terms with Mrs. Guthrie, owing to the fact that
+the Doctor had been obliged to remonstrate about her parrot. This
+expensive prodigy gave the most lifelike and frequent imitations of
+cats, trolley-cars, newsboys, sirens and other superfluous and
+distressing disturbances on the window-sill of the room which was next
+to his laboratory. So this boy and girl--unconsciously playing all over
+again the story of the Montagues and Capulets--met surreptitiously night
+after night, the boy coming over the roof and using the rope
+ladder--which had played its part in all the great romances. Was there
+any harm in him? Well, he was eighteen.
+
+"What'll you have first?" asked Ethel, in her best hostess
+manner--"candies or cigarettes?"
+
+"Both," said the boy; and with a lump in his cheek and an expression of
+admiration in both eyes he started a cigarette. He was about to sit on
+the settee at Ethel's feet, but she pointed to a chair and into this he
+subsided, crossing one leg over the other and hitching his trousers
+rather high so that he might display to full advantage a pair of very
+smart socks, newly purchased.
+
+"I hope you locked your bedroom door," said Ethel, "and please don't
+forget to whisper. There's no chance of our being caught, but we may as
+well be careful."
+
+The boy nodded and made a little face. "If father found out about this,"
+he said; "oh, Gee! What did you do with Ellen after she bounced in last
+night?"
+
+"Oh, I gave her one of my hats. I told her that if she kept quiet there
+was a frock waiting for her. She's safe. Now, amuse me!"
+
+For some minutes the boy remained silent, worrying his brain as to how
+to comply with the girl's rather difficult and peremptory request. He
+knew that she was not easy to amuse. He was a little frightened at the
+books she read and looked up to her with a certain amount of awe. He
+liked her best when she said nothing and was content to sit quite quiet
+and look pretty. After deep and steady thought he took a chance. "Do you
+know this one?" he asked, and started whistling a new ragtime through
+his teeth.
+
+It was new to Ethel. She liked it. Its rhythm set her feet moving. "Oh,
+that's fine," she said. "What are the words?"
+
+The boy was a gentleman. He shook his head, thereby stimulating her
+curiosity a hundred-fold.
+
+"Oh don't be silly. I shall know them sooner or later, whatever they
+are--besides, I'm not a child."
+
+The boy lied chivalrously. "Well, honestly, I don't know
+them,--something about 'Row, row, row'--I don't know the rest."
+
+She knew that he did know. She liked him for not telling her the truth,
+but she made a mental note to order the song the following morning.
+
+And so, for about an hour, these two young things who imagined that this
+was life carried on a desultory conversation, while the boy gradually
+filled the room with cigarette smoke, and remained reluctantly a whole
+yard away from the sofa. It was all very childish and simple, but to
+them it was romance with a very big R. They were making believe that
+they had thrown the world back about a hundred years or so. He was a
+knight and she a lady in an enemy's castle; and, although their mothers
+didn't speak, they liked to ignore the fact that Mrs. Guthrie would have
+had no objection to his coming to tea as often as he desired and taking
+Ethel for walks in broad daylight whenever he wished for a little mild
+exercise. But,--he was eighteen, and so presently, repulsed by her
+tongue but enticed by her eyes, he left his chair and found himself
+sitting on the settee at Ethel's feet, holding her hand, which thrilled
+him very much. She was kinder than usual that night, sweeter and more
+girlish. Her stockings were awfully pretty, too, and her hair went into
+more than usually delicious ripples round her face.
+
+"You're a darling," he said suddenly. "I love to come here like this. I
+hope you'll be ill for a month." And he slid forward with gymnastic
+clumsiness and put his arm round her shoulder. He was just going to kiss
+her and so satisfy an overwhelming craving when there was a soft knock
+on the door and Dr. Guthrie's voice followed it. "Are you awake, Ethel?"
+
+The boy sprang to his feet, stood for a moment with a look of peculiar
+shame on his face, turned on his heels, made for the window, went
+through it like a rabbit and up the troubadour ladder, which disappeared
+after him.
+
+Ethel held her breath and remained transfixed. Again the knock came and
+the question was repeated. But she made no answer, and presently, when
+the sound of footsteps died away, she got up--a little peevish and more
+than a little irritable--kicked a small pile of cigarette ash which the
+boy had dropped upon her carpet, and said to herself: "_Just_ as he was
+going to kiss me! Goodness, how _annoying_ father is!"
+
+
+X
+
+The following morning Belle took Nicholas Kenyon for a walk. Dressed in
+a suit of blue flannel with white bone buttons, with a pair of white
+spats gleaming over patent leather shoes and a grey hat stuck at an
+angle of forty-five, Kenyon looked as fresh and as dapper as though he
+had been to bed the night before at ten o'clock. He had, as a matter of
+fact, come home with the milk; but he was one of those men who possess
+the enviable gift of looking healthy and untired after the sort of
+nights which make the ordinary man turn to chemistry and vibro-massage.
+
+Belle had sported a new hat for the occasion.
+
+This fact Kenyon realized with that queer touch of intuition which was
+characteristic of him. "By Jove!" he said. "That's something like a hat,
+Belle. Hearty congratulations. You suit it to perfection."
+
+Belle beamed upon him. "But you would say that anyhow, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Perfectly true; but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred I shouldn't
+mean it."
+
+They turned into Madison Avenue. It was an exquisite morning. The whole
+city was bathed in sun, but the refreshing tang of late autumn was in
+the air. Most of the large houses were still closed, their owners
+lingering in the country or abroad. All the same there was the
+inevitable amount of traffic in the streets and apparently the usual
+number of passers-by. The city can be--according to the strange little
+creatures who write society news--"utterly deserted" and yet contain
+all its teeming millions.
+
+"And what may that be?" asked Kenyon, pointing to the heavy white
+buttresses of a church which backed on the street.
+
+"Oh, that's the Roman Catholic Cathedral."
+
+"Roman Catholic, eh? I noticed churches everywhere as we drove up from
+the docks,--more churches than pubs apparently, and yet I suppose it
+would be quite absurd to imagine that New Yorkers imbibe their alcohol
+entirely in the form of religion."
+
+"Quite," said Belle, dryly. "Although we have a hundred religions and
+only five cocktails."
+
+"I see you also go in for antique furniture."
+
+Belle laughed. "You have a quick eye," she said. "There's so much
+genuine Old English stuff in this city that if it were sent to England
+there wouldn't be room for it on shore. Tell me; what are your plans?"
+
+"Well," said Kenyon, "I'm going to accept your father's perfectly
+charming hospitality for a fortnight and then take rooms in a bachelor
+apartment-house, of which Graham has told me, for the winter."
+
+"You're going to settle down here?" cried Belle.
+
+"Rather,--for six months. I'm here to study the conditions, make myself
+familiar with the characteristics and draw from both what I hope will be
+the foundations of much usefulness." Kenyon considered that he had
+enveloped his true mission--which was to lighten the pockets of all
+unwary young men--with a satirical verbiage that did him credit.
+
+"I thought that perhaps you'd come for some other reason," said Belle,
+whose whole face showed her disappointment.
+
+Kenyon shot a quick glance at her. How naive she was--how very much too
+easy--but, nevertheless, how very young and desirable. "That goes
+without saying, you delicious thing," he replied, closing his hand
+warmly round her arm for a moment and so bringing the light back to her
+eyes. "By the way," he continued, "what's the matter with Graham?"
+
+"I don't know that anything's the matter with Graham."
+
+"I think so. I notice a worried look about him that he didn't have at
+Oxford; that he seems to be always on the verge of telling me something,
+and drawing back at the last minute. I must make a point of finding out
+what his trouble is. Peter and I were discussing it this morning after
+breakfast. We're both a bit anxious about him. Do you know if your
+father has noticed it?"
+
+"Father? Oh, he doesn't notice anything. He believes that Graham is
+working very hard and doing well. He knows less about what goes on in
+our house than the people who live next door."
+
+"That's rather a pity. I'm all for complete confidence between father
+and son. However, I shall play father to Graham for a bit and see what
+can be done for him. He puzzles me. There's a mystery somewhere."
+
+Something of this mystery was disclosed to Kenyon and Peter that night.
+After dining them both at the Harvard Club--a place which filled Kenyon
+with admiration and surprise--Graham suddenly suggested, with a queer
+touch of excitement, that they should go with him to his apartment.
+
+"Your apartment?" said Peter. "What on earth do you mean?"
+
+"Well, come and see," said Graham.
+
+The two elder men looked at each other in amazement. Kenyon's quick mind
+ran ahead, but Peter, the unsophisticated, was quite unable to
+understand what in the world Graham wanted an apartment for when he
+lived at home. They all three left West Forty-fourth Street in silence
+and walked arm in arm down Fifth Avenue as far as Twenty-eighth Street.
+Here they turned westward and followed Graham, who was wearing an air of
+rather sheepish pride, up the steps of an old brown stone house with
+rather a shabby portico.
+
+"Dismal looking hole," said Peter.
+
+"Wait!" said Graham, and he put his finger on a bell. The door opened
+automatically and he led the way into a scantily furnished hall and up
+three flights of stairs, whose red carpet was in the autumn of its days.
+Drawing up in front of a door on the left of the passage he rang again,
+and after a lengthy pause was admitted to a small apartment by a colored
+maid, who gave a wide grin of recognition.
+
+"Come right in," said Graham. "Lily, take our hats and coats. Don't
+leave them about in the hall. Hang them up and then go and get some
+drinks."
+
+Kenyon looked about him curiously. He could see that the place was
+newly furnished and that everything had been chosen by a man. He glanced
+into the dining-room. The pictures were sporting and the furniture
+mission. He detected no sign of a woman's hand anywhere. He began to be
+puzzled. He had expected to find something quite different. But when
+Graham opened the door of the sitting-room and said: "Well, here we are,
+Ita!" and he saw a small, dark, olive-skinned girl rise up from a settee
+and run forward to Graham with a little cry of welcome, he knew that his
+deduction of the situation had been a right one. So this was the
+mystery.
+
+Still with the same air of sheepish pride, Graham said: "Peter, this is
+Miss Ita Strabosck. My brother, Ita. And this is Nicholas Kenyon, who's
+a great friend of mine. They've just come over from England, and so of
+course I've brought them to see you."
+
+The little girl held out a very shy hand, and said: "I am so glad. Eet
+ees very good of you to come."
+
+In a curiously plain tight frock of some soft black material, cut square
+across her tiny breasts, and leaving her arms bare almost to the
+shoulders, she stood, with one knee bent, looking from one man to the
+other with a sort of wistful eagerness to be treated kindly. She held a
+tiny black Teddy bear with red eyes against her cheek, like a child.
+
+Peter, for a reason which he was unable to explain to himself, felt a
+wave of sympathy go over him. He not only accepted the girl on her face
+value, but somehow or other believed her to be younger and more
+romantic than she looked. She seemed to him to have stepped out of the
+pages of some Arabian book--to be a little exotic whom Graham must have
+discovered far away from her native hot-house. He liked the way in which
+her thick hair was arranged round her face, and he would have sworn that
+she was without guile.
+
+Not so Kenyon. "Great Scott!" he said to himself. "Here's a little devil
+for you. Our young friend Graham has had his leg pulled. I've seen
+mosquitoes before, but the poison of this one will take all the
+ingenuity of an expert to counteract."
+
+He sat down and watched the girl, who threw one quick antagonistic
+glance at him and attached herself to Peter, to whom she talked in
+monosyllables. She might only very recently have left a Convent School,
+except that her dog-like worship of Graham seemed to prove that she owed
+him a deep debt of gratitude for some great service.
+
+Graham watched her, too, and his expression showed Kenyon that even if
+he didn't love her he believed in her and was proud of himself.
+
+
+XI
+
+By a sort of mutual consent the three men left the apartment in
+Twenty-eighth Street early. They did not desire to finish the evening at
+any cabaret or club. They called the first passing taxicab and drove
+home. By mutual consent also they never once referred to Ita Strabosck,
+but discussed everything else under the sun. Kenyon had never been so
+useful. With consummate tact--but all the while with the picture in his
+mind of the cunning little actress whom they had just left--he led the
+conversation from dancing to baseball and from country clubs to women's
+clothes. Whenever the cab passed a strong light Graham made a quick,
+examining glance at Peter's face. He knew old Peter as well as Peter
+knew his piano, and he was quite well aware of the fact that although
+his brother laughed a good deal at Kenyon's quaint turn of phrase he was
+upset at what he had seen.
+
+It was just after eleven o'clock when they went into the smoking-room of
+the house in Fifty-second Street. Mrs. Guthrie and Ethel had gone to
+bed. Belle had not returned from a theatre party. The Doctor was at work
+in his laboratory. He heard the boys come in. The sound of their voices
+made him raise his head eagerly. He even half-rose from his chair in a
+desire to join them and hear them talk, and laugh with them and get from
+them some of that sense of youth which they exuded so pleasantly, but
+his terrible shyness got the better of him once more and he returned to
+his experiments. How ironical it was that with complete unconsciousness
+he was leaving it to such a man as Nicholas Kenyon to play father to his
+second son, who had never in his short life needed a real father so
+badly.
+
+For some little time--smoking a good cigar with complete
+appreciation--Kenyon continued to give forth his impressions of New
+York so far as he knew it. He was especially amusing in his description
+of the effect upon him of the first sight of the Great White Way. Then,
+all of a sudden, there came one of those strange pauses. It was Peter
+who broke the silence. "Graham, old boy," he said, "tell us about it.
+What does it all mean? Good Lord! you're only twenty-four. Are you
+married?"
+
+Before Graham could reply, Kenyon sent out a scoffing laugh. "Married!
+Is he married?" he cried. "My good old grandfather's ghost, Peter! But
+how indescribably green you are. Hang me if you're not like a sort of
+Peter Pan! You've passed through Harvard and Oxford with a skin over
+your eyes. It's all very beautiful, very commendable--and what Belle
+would call 'very dear' of you--and all that sort of thing, but somehow
+you make me feel that I've got to go through life with you in the
+capacity of the sort of guide one hires in Paris--the human Baedeker."
+
+"But if Graham hasn't married that poor girl," said Peter, bluntly,
+"what's he doing with her?"
+
+Graham sprang to his feet and began to walk about the room. All about
+his tall, slight, well-built figure there was a curious nervousness and
+excitement. Even in the carefully subdued light of the room it was plain
+to see that his face was rather haggard and drawn. The boy looked years
+older than Peter. "I'll start off," he said, "by giving you fellows my
+word of honor that what I'm going to tell you is the truth. I have to
+begin like this because if either of you were to tell me this story I
+don't think I should be able to believe it. Some time ago I was taken--I
+forget by whom--to a pestilential but rather amusing place in Fortieth
+Street. It's a huge studio run by a woman who calls herself Papowsky.
+It's what you, Nick, would call the last word in supereffeteness. Ita
+Strabosck was one of the girls. I liked her at once. I didn't fall in
+love with her, but she appealed to me and it was simply to see her that
+I went there several times. I knew the place was pretty rotten and I
+didn't cotton on to the people who were there or the things they did. I
+even knew that the police had their eyes on it, but I liked it all the
+more because of that. It gave it a sort of zest, like absinthe in
+whiskey."
+
+"Quite!" said Kenyon. "Fire away!"
+
+"The last time I went there, Ita took me into a corner, told me that she
+was never allowed out of the place and was a sort of White Slave, and
+begged me to take her away. I don't think I shall ever forget the sight
+of that poor little wretch trembling and shaking. It was pretty bad.
+Well, I took her away. I got her out by a fire-escape when nobody was
+watching us. Dodged through a window of a restaurant on the first floor,
+and so out into the street. It was very tricky work. The day after I
+took the apartment that you came to to-night, furnished it, and there
+Ita has been ever since. I go there nearly every night until the small
+hours. She's happy now and safe and I don't regret it. She hated the
+place and the things she had been forced to do and nothing will make me
+believe that she was bad. She was just a victim--that's all. And if I
+have to go without things I don't care so long as she has all she needs.
+That's the story. What d'you think of it?"
+
+Peter got up, went over to his brother and held out his hand silently.
+With a rather pathetic expression of gratitude in his eyes, Graham took
+it and held it tight. "That's like you, Peter," he said, a little
+huskily.
+
+Kenyon made no movement. He looked with a pitying smile at the two boys
+as they stood eye to eye. The whole thing sounded to him like a fairy
+tale and for a moment he wondered whether Graham was not endeavoring to
+obtain their sympathy under false pretences. Then he made up his mind
+that Graham--like the man with whom he had lived at Oxford--was green
+also, for all that he had knocked about in New York for two years. Not
+from any kindness of heart, but simply because he wanted to use Graham
+as a means of introducing him to the young male wealthy set of the city,
+he determined to get him out somehow or other of this disastrous
+entanglement. He would however go to work tactfully without allowing
+Graham to think that he had made a complete fool of himself. He knew
+that if he wounded this boy's vanity and brought him down from his
+heroic pedestal he would set his teeth, put his back to the wall and
+refuse to be assisted. With keen insight he could see that this incident
+was likely to injure the usefulness of his visit to America.
+
+"Um!" he said. "It's a pitiful story, Graham. You behaved devilish well,
+old boy. Not many men would have acted so quickly and so unselfishly.
+Now, sit down and tell me a few things."
+
+Gladly enough Graham did so, heaving a great sigh. He was glad that he
+had made a clear breast of all this. He was too young to keep it a
+secret. He wanted sympathy urgently and a little human help. Peter
+loaded and lit a pipe and drew his chair into the group.
+
+"This girl Ita What's-her-name loves you, of course?"
+
+Graham nodded.
+
+"Anyone could see that," said Peter.
+
+"But she'd been in that studio some time before you came along, I take
+it,--I mean she'd been anybody's property for the asking?"
+
+Graham shuddered. "I hate to think so," he said.
+
+Peter kicked the leg of the nearest chair.
+
+"How d'you feel?" asked Kenyon.
+
+"Awfully sorry for her," said Graham.
+
+"Yes, of course. What I mean is, are you all right?"
+
+Graham looked puzzled. "I find it rather difficult to pay for
+everything," he said, "especially as I've been damned unlucky lately."
+
+The man of the world involuntarily raised his eyebrows. "Good Lord!" he
+said to himself. "And this boy is the son of a specialist.
+Blind--blind!" Then he spoke aloud, passing on to another point. "How
+long do you think it is incumbent upon you to make yourself the guardian
+of this girl?"
+
+Graham shrugged his shoulders. "She comes from Poland. Her father and
+mother are dead and she has no one to look after her."
+
+"I'll help you," said Peter.
+
+That was exactly what Kenyon didn't want. He got up, went over to the
+table and mixed a drink. "Potter off to bed, Graham, old boy," he said.
+"Get a good night's rest. You need it. We'll go further into the matter
+in a day or two. It requires serious consideration. Anyway, I
+congratulate you. You're a bit of a knight, and you've my complete
+admiration." He led the boy to the door, patted him on the shoulder and
+got rid of him. Then he returned to Peter, whose face showed that he was
+laboring under many conflicting emotions.
+
+"Nick," he said, "he's only twenty-four--just making a beginning. He did
+the only thing he could do under the circumstances, but,--but what would
+father say?"
+
+"I don't think it's a question as to what your father would say," said
+Kenyon. "If I know anything, the way to put it is what can your father
+do? Of all men in the city he's the one who could be most useful in this
+peculiar mess-up--Peter, you and I have got to get that boy out of this,
+otherwise----"
+
+"Otherwise what?"
+
+"Otherwise--quite shortly--the police are likely to fish out of the
+river the dead body of a promising lad of twenty-four, and there'll be
+great grief in this house."
+
+"What d'you mean?"
+
+"Exactly what I say. That girl's a liar, a cheat and a fraud."
+
+"I don't believe you."
+
+"I don't care whether you believe me or not. She's rotten from head to
+foot. She's as easy to read as an advertisement. She's taking advantage
+of a fellow who's as unsuspicious as you are. You're both green,--green,
+I tell you,--as green as grass."
+
+"I'd rather be green," cried Peter, hotly, "than go through life with
+your rotten skepticism."
+
+"Would you? You talk like an infant. Graham will want to marry some
+day,--and then what? Good Heavens! Hasn't anybody taken the trouble to
+tell you two any of the facts of life? You are neither of you fit to be
+allowed out in the streets without a nurse. It's appalling. Skeptical,
+you call me. You're blind, I tell you. Blind! So's the old man in the
+next room. There's an ugly shadow over this house, Peter, as sure as
+you're alive. Don't stand there glaring at me. I'm talking facts. If
+you've got any regard for your brother and his health and his future; if
+you want to save your mother from unutterable suffering and your father
+from a hideous awakening, don't talk any further drivel to me, but make
+up your mind that the girl, Ita Strasbosck, has it in her power to turn
+Graham into a suicide. She's a liar--a liar and a trickster and a
+menace--and I'll make it my business to prove it to you and Graham."
+
+"You can't."
+
+"Can't I? We'll see about that. And you've got to help me. We've got to
+make Graham see that he must shake her off at once,--at once, I tell
+you. The alternative you know."
+
+Peter got up and strode about the room. He was worried and anxious. He
+didn't, unfortunately, fully appreciate the gravity of this affair,
+because, as Kenyon had said so tauntingly, he was a child in such
+matters. But what he did appreciate was that his only brother had done
+something, however sympathetic the motive, which might have far-reaching
+consequences and which did away with the possibility of his going, as it
+was Peter's determination to go, clean and straight to a good girl.
+
+He turned to Kenyon, who had made himself comfortable. "I'll help you
+for all I'm worth, Nick," he said.
+
+"Right," said Kenyon. "I'll think out a line of action and let you know
+to-morrow. There's no time to be lost."
+
+
+XII
+
+Kenyon got rid of Peter, too.
+
+Apart from the fact that he was going to wait up for Belle, he wanted to
+be alone. He was angry. It was just like his bad luck to come all the
+way to America and find that the two men who had it in their power to be
+of substantial use to him were both fully occupied,--one being
+hopelessly in love, the other in money trouble and in what he recognized
+as a difficult and even dangerous position. With characteristic
+selfishness he resented these things. They made it necessary for him to
+exercise his brain,--not for himself--which was his idea of the whole
+art of living--but for others. There were other things that he resented
+also. One was the fact that Peter was what he called a damned child. He
+had no admiration whatever for his friend's absolute determination to
+look only at the clean things of life. A thousand times since they had
+shared the same rooms he had cursed Peter because of his sweeping
+refusal to discuss a question which he knew to be of vital and
+far-reaching importance. At these times Peter had always said something
+like this: "My dear Nick, I'm not going to be a doctor, a woman-hunter,
+or a sloppy man about town. I don't want to know any details whatever of
+the things which stir up other men's curiosity. I've no room in my brain
+for them. They don't amuse me or interest me. I'm jolly well going to
+remain a damned child, whether you like it or not, so you may chuck
+trying to drag me into these midnight discussions of yours with the men
+who hang nudes all over their walls and gloat over filthy little French
+books."
+
+And then there was Graham. He, like untold hundreds of his type, had a
+certain amount of precocity, but no knowledge. He had merely peeked at
+the truth of things through a chink. He had looked at life with the
+salacious eyes of a Peeping Tom. And what was the result? Worse than
+total ignorance. Deep down in whatever soul he had, Nicholas Kenyon
+honestly and truly believed in friendship between father and son. He
+knew--none better--because it was his business to observe, that a young
+man was frightfully and terribly handicapped who went out into the world
+unwarned, unadvised and uninitiated. He had often come across men like
+Peter and Graham whose lives had been absolutely ruined at the very
+outset for the reason that their fathers had either been too cowardly or
+too indifferent to give them the benefit of their own experience and
+early troubles. In fact, most of the men he knew--and he knew a great
+many--had been left to discover the essential truths and facts for
+themselves. The inevitable end of it was that they made their
+discoveries too late.
+
+Fate certainly must have had a very grim amusement in watching Nicholas
+Kenyon as he walked up and down the library of Dr. Hunter Guthrie's
+house that night, blazing at the delinquencies of fathers. Nevertheless,
+Kenyon had the right to be indignant, whether his reasons for being so
+sprang out of his selfishness or not. His own father was an
+unscrupulous, unserious man, that was true, but at any rate he had given
+his son a human chance. He could take it or leave it as he liked. And
+when Kenyon, piecing together all that he had heard of Dr. Guthrie from
+Peter, from Graham and from Belle, added all that to the very obvious
+fact that these two boys were out in the world with blind eyes, he burst
+into a scoffing laugh. In his mind's eye he could see the excellent and
+distinguished Doctor rounding his back over experiments for the benefit
+of humanity, while he utterly neglected to give two of the human beings
+for whom he was responsible the few words of advice which would render
+it unnecessary for them to become his patients.
+
+If Kenyon had been a more generous man--if in his nature there had been
+one small grain of unselfishness--he would have gone at that very
+moment, then and there, to the door of the Doctor's laboratory--into
+that wonderful room--sat down opposite the man who spent his life in it
+with such noble concentration and begged him to desert his microbes and
+turn his attention to his sons. As it was he neglected to take an
+opportunity which would have enabled the recording angel to make one
+very good entry on the blank credit side of his account, and
+concentrated upon a way in which he could use Peter and Graham for his
+own material ends. He was immediately faced therefore with two "jobs,"
+as he called them,--one to queer Peter's engagement with Betty, in order
+that he might achieve his friend's whole attention, the other to lift
+Graham out of his ghastly entanglement, for the same purpose. Bringing
+himself up to that point and relying upon his ingenuity with complete
+confidence, Kenyon mixed himself another high-ball and listened with a
+certain amount of eagerness for Belle's light step.
+
+He hadn't long to wait. He had just gone into the dimly lighted hall
+with the intention of getting some air on the front doorstep, when the
+door opened and Belle let herself in.
+
+"You keep nice hours," he said.
+
+Belle had been dancing. Her cheeks were glowing and her eyes bright. She
+had never looked so all-conqueringly youthful or so imbued with the joy
+of life. She came across to him like a young goddess of the forest, with
+the wild beauty and that suggestion of unrestraint which always made
+Kenyon's blood run quickly.
+
+"Have you waited for me?" she asked. "How perfectly adorable of you."
+
+"What have you been doing?"
+
+"Oh, the usual things--dinner, theatre, dancing."
+
+Kenyon went nearer and put his hands on her arms, hotly. "Curse those
+men!" he said.
+
+"What men?"
+
+"The men who've been holding you to-night. Why have I come over? Can't
+you scratch these engagements and wait for me? I'm not going to share
+you with every Tom, Dick and Harry in this place."
+
+A feeling of triumph came to Belle--a new feeling--because hitherto this
+man's attitude had been that of master. "You're jealous!" she cried.
+
+Kenyon turned away sharply. For once he was not playing with this girl
+for the sport of the thing, just to see what she would say and do in
+order to pass away the time. The whole evening had tended to upset his
+calculations and plans. He had found himself thrown suddenly into a
+position of responsibility,--a state that he avoided with rare and
+consummate agility. And now came Belle, radiant and high-spirited, from
+an evening spent with other men,--more beautiful and desirable than he
+had ever seen her look.
+
+Belle turned him back. "You _are_ jealous, you _are_."
+
+"Oh, good Lord, no," said Kenyon, with his most bored drawl. "Why should
+I be? After all it isn't for me to care what you do, is it? It's a large
+world and there's plenty of room for both of us--what?"
+
+He walked away.
+
+Triumph blazed in Belle's heart. She saw in Kenyon's eyes that he was
+saying the very opposite of the thoughts that were in his mind. She
+almost shouted with joy. She had longed to see into the heart of this
+man who was under such complete and aggravating self-control,--even to
+hurt him to obtain a big, spontaneous outburst of emotion from him. She
+loved him desperately, indiscreetly--far too well for her peace of
+mind--and she urgently needed some answering sparks of fire.
+
+She didn't move. She stood with her cloak thrown back, her chin held
+high and the light falling on her dark hair and white flesh. This was
+her moment. She would seize it.
+
+"Yes, there _is_ plenty of room for us both," she said, "and the fact
+that I shall go on dancing with other men needn't inconvenience you in
+the least. I don't suppose that we shall even see each other in the
+crowd. There are many men who'll give their ears to dance with me,--I
+mean men who can dance, not bored Englishmen."
+
+She drew blood. Kenyon went across to her quickly. "How dare you talk to
+me like that! Curse these men and their ears. Who's brought me to this
+country? You know I came for you,--you know it. I _am_ jealous--as
+jealous as the devil. And if ever you let another man put his arms round
+you I'll smash his face." He put out his hot hands to catch her.
+
+But, with a little teasing laugh, Belle dodged and flitted into the
+library. The spirit of coquettishness was awake in her. _She_ had the
+upper hand now and a small account to render for missed mails, and an
+appearance of being too sure. She threw off her cloak and stood with her
+back to the fireplace, looking like one of Romney's pictures of Lady
+Hamilton come to life.
+
+Kenyon strode in after her, all stirred by her beauty. "In future," he
+said, "you dance with me. You understand?"
+
+Belle raised her eyebrows and then bowed profoundly. "As you say, O my
+master!" And then she held out her arms with a sudden delicious abandon.
+"Take me, then. Let's dance all the way through life."
+
+Kenyon caught her, and all about the room these two went, moving
+together in perfect unison, cheek to cheek, until almost breathless
+Belle broke into a little laugh, stopped singing, and said: "The band's
+tired." But Kenyon held her tighter and closer and kissed her lips again
+and again and again.
+
+With a little touch of warning in its tone the clock on the mantel-piece
+presently struck two, and Belle freed herself and straightened her hair
+with a rather uncertain hand. "I must go now," she said breathlessly.
+"Father may be working late. Supposing he came through this room?"
+
+"Serve him right," said Kenyon.
+
+They went upstairs together on tip-toe, and halted for a moment on the
+threshold of Belle's bed-room. Through the half-open door Kenyon saw the
+glow of yellow light on the dressing-table, and the corner of a virginal
+bed. Once more he kissed her and then, breathing hard, went to his own
+room, stood in the darkness for a moment, and thanked his lucky star for
+the gift of Belle.
+
+
+XIII
+
+The following afternoon, Peter, Kenyon and Belle went to see Ranken
+Townsend's pictures and to have tea with Betty. The little party was a
+great success. Peter and the artist got on splendidly together, which
+filled Betty with joy and gladness, and Kenyon had added to the general
+smoothness and pleasantness by offering extremely intelligent and
+enthusiastic criticism of the canvasses that were shown to him, drawing
+subtle comparisons between them and those of Reynolds and Gainsborough.
+Like all true artists, Townsend was a humble man and unsuspicious. He
+believed, in the manner of all good workers, that he had yet to find
+himself, although he had met with uncommon success. He was, therefore,
+much heartened and warmed by the remarks of one who, although young,
+evidently knew of what he was talking and proved himself to be something
+of a judge. When Kenyon received a cordial invitation to come again to
+the studio he solidified the good impression that he had made by saying
+that he would be honoured and delighted.
+
+There had been a sharp shower during tea, but the sky had cleared when
+they left Gramercy Park, taking Betty with them, and so they started out
+to walk home.
+
+Belle and Betty went on in front, arm in arm, and the two friends
+followed. This suited Kenyon exactly. He had laid his plan and had
+something to say to Peter.
+
+Belle was very happy, and she showed it. She looked round at Betty with
+her eyes dancing. "I can see that you're dying to ask me something," she
+said. "But don't. You and I don't have to ask each other questions.
+We've always told each other everything, and we always will."
+
+"Belle, you're en-ga----"
+
+"S-s-s-h! Don't mention the word."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Well, we've been talking this afternoon and Nicholas says, and I think
+he's right--though I wish he weren't--that he doesn't want to go to
+father until he's been here longer and has made up his mind what he's
+going to do. You see, he's not well off. He's got to work,--although I
+can't fancy Nicholas working,--and so we're not going to be really
+engaged for a few months. Meantime, he's going to look round and find
+something to do. That'll be easy. You don't know how clever he is,--not
+merely clever--a monkey can be clever, or a conjurer--the word I meant
+to use was 'able.' Aren't you glad? Isn't it splendid?"
+
+"Oh, my dear," said Betty, "wouldn't it be perfectly wonderful if we
+could be married on the same day? Of course I've seen it coming----"
+
+Belle laughed. "I knew you'd say that. Personally I didn't see it
+coming. After we'd left Oxford I began to think that Nicholas had only
+been flirting with me. He wrote such curious, aloof little letters and
+very few of them. They might have been written by an epigramist to his
+maiden aunt; but last night,--well, last night made everything
+different, and this afternoon we've had a long talk. Of course I wish we
+were going to be openly and properly engaged, but I'm very happy and so
+I don't grumble."
+
+"As the future Countess of Shropshire, I wonder whether you will ever
+give a little back room in your beautiful English place to the young
+American lawyer and his wife!"
+
+"Betty, I swear to you that I don't care a dime about all that now,--I
+mean the title and the place. It's just Nicholas that I want--Nicholas,
+and no one else. I wouldn't care if he were what he calls a 'bounder' or
+a 'townee.' My dear, I'm mad about him--just mad."
+
+"Isn't everything as right as Truth?" said Betty. "The more I see Peter
+the more I love him. He's,--well, he's a man, and he's mine. He's mine
+for another reason, and that's because he's always going to be a boy,
+and I'm here to look after him. He'll need me. And I must have him need
+me, too, because I need to be needed. Do you understand?"
+
+Belle nodded. "You're the born mother, my dear," she said, "whereas,
+I'm,--well, not. I want love--just love. I'll give everything I've got
+in the world for that--everything. Love and excitement and movement,--to
+go from place to place meeting new people, hearing new languages, seeing
+new types, living bigly and broadly, being consulted by a man who's
+brilliant and far-seeing,--_that's_ what I need. That's _my_ idea of
+life. Ah-h!" She shot out a deep breath and threw her chin up as though
+to challenge argument.
+
+Betty watched her with admiration. She had never looked so unusual, so
+exhilarated, so fine. All about her there was the very essence of youth
+and courage and health. There was a glow in her white skin that was the
+mere reflection of the fire that was alight in her heart. Given
+happiness this girl would burst into the most fragrant blossoming and
+gleam among her sisters like a rose in a pansy bed. Given pain and
+disillusion she had it in her to fling rules, observances, caution,
+common sense and even self-respect to the four winds and go with all
+possible speed to the devil.
+
+"What would have happened to us both if we hadn't gone to Oxford?" asked
+Betty, with an almost comical touch of gravity. "Think! I should be
+doomed to be a little old maid, with nothing but an even smaller dog to
+keep in order, and as for you----"
+
+"I? Don't let's talk about it. I should have gone top-pace through
+several years and then, with thirty looming ahead, married a nice safe
+man with oodles of money who would spend his life following me round.
+Thank Heaven, I shall never be the centre of that ghastly picture!"
+
+And so they went on, these two young things, opening up their hearts to
+each other as they walked home and flying off at all manner of feminine
+tangents.
+
+Kenyon, perfectly satisfied with his talk to Belle, whom he had secured
+without binding himself to anything definite, was wearing white spats,
+and so he picked his way across the wet streets like a cat on hot
+bricks. For several blocks he permitted Peter to talk about Betty. His
+affectation of interest and sympathy was not so well done as usual. He
+had determined, with a sort of professional jealousy, not to allow Ita
+Strabosck to trade on Graham's credulity any longer. All his thoughts
+were concentrated on his plan to smash up that burlesque arrangement, as
+he inwardly called it. If anyone were to make use of Graham he intended
+to be that one. The girl, at present a humble member of the great army
+of parasites in which he held a commission, must be cleared out. She was
+inconveniently in the way.
+
+When Peter was obliged to stop for breath, Kenyon jumped in. "Look
+here!" he said. "You're coming with me to the shrine of the pernicious
+Papowsky to-night."
+
+"You mean on Graham's business?" asked Peter. "Is it absolutely
+necessary to go to that place?"
+
+"Absolutely. You'll see why, if everything works as I think it will,
+when we get there."
+
+"Right. And how about Graham?"
+
+"You and Graham are going to have dinner with me at Sherry's. I shall
+have to see that he has half a bottle too much champagne. That'll make
+him careless and put a bit of devil into him, and when I suggest that he
+shall take us to Papowsky's, he will jump at the notion, He's awful keen
+to show us what a blood he is. Once he gets us inside the rest will
+follow."
+
+"I see. By Jove, I shall be thundering glad when Graham's plucked out of
+this wretched mess. The only thing is I'm booked to dine with Mr.
+Townsend at his club to-night."
+
+"It can't be done," said Kenyon. "Directly you get home you must
+telephone. Say that an urgent matter has just cropped up and beg to be
+excused. Call it business--call it anything you like--but get out of
+it."
+
+"All right!" said Peter. "I'm heart and soul with you, old boy. I'm very
+grateful for all the trouble you're taking. You always were a good
+chap."
+
+"My dear Peter, add to my possession of the ordinary number of senses
+one that is almost as rare as the Dodo,--the sense of gratitude. Hello!
+Here's some of the family in the car!"
+
+They had halted on the steps of the Doctor's house as Mrs. Guthrie and
+Ethel were driven up. Kenyon sprang forward, opened the door and handed
+the ladies out with an air that Raleigh himself would have found
+commendable.
+
+"Blood tells," said Belle, who watched from the top step, with a proud
+smile.
+
+"Yes," said Betty, "but I prefer muscle. Look!"
+
+The pavement was uneven in front of the house and the rain had made a
+little pool. So Peter picked his mother up, as though she were as light
+as a bunch of feathers, and carried her into the house.
+
+"My dearest big boy!" she said.
+
+"Darling little Mum!" said Peter.
+
+
+XIV
+
+Kenyon, turned out as excellently as usual, led the way into the
+dining-room at Sherry's. It was a quarter to eight. Every other table
+was occupied. The large room was too warm and was filled with the
+conglomerate aromas of food. Peter sat on the right of his host and
+Graham on the left. Both men were quiet and distrait,--Peter because he
+was anxious, Graham for the reason that he had not been able to leave
+behind him the carking worries that now fell daily to his lot. Kenyon,
+on the contrary, was in his best form, and even a little excited. Apart
+from the fact that he rather liked having something to do that would
+prove his knowledge of life and the accuracy of his powers of
+psychology, he was looking forward to be amused with what went on in the
+studio-apartment of the Papowsky.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, looking around and arranging his tie over the
+points of his collar with expert fingers,--a thing which Graham
+immediately proceeded to do also,--"this place has a quite distinct
+atmosphere. Don't you think so, Peter?"
+
+"Has it?"
+
+"One would, I see, choose it for a trying and dull-bright dinner with a
+prospective mother-in-law or with some dear thing, safely married, with
+whom one had once rashly imagined one's self to be in love. Waiter, the
+wine list!"
+
+Graham laughed.
+
+Kenyon, scoring his first point, continued airily. "For my part, I shall
+make a point of dining here one night with an alluring young thing fresh
+from the romantic quietude of a Convent School. I feel that these
+discreet lights and reserved colours will give a certain amount of
+weight and even solemnity to my careful flattery--A large bottle of
+Perrier Jouet '02, and be sparing with the ice. Peter, I think you'll
+find that this caviare gives many points to the tired stuff that used to
+be palmed off on us at Buol's and other undergraduate places of puerile
+riotousness."
+
+The dinner, which Kenyon had ordered with becoming care, would have
+satisfied the epicureanism of a Russian aristocrat. During all its
+courses the host kept up a running fire of anecdote which quickly made
+the table a merry one. He also saw to it that Graham's glass was never
+empty. They sat laughing, smoking and drinking Creme Yvette until they
+were the last people in the room except for an old bloated man and a
+very young Hebrew girl. The band, which had mixed ragtime
+indiscriminately with Italian opera and Austrian waltzes, and played
+them all equally well, went off to acquire the second wind and the
+relaxed muscles necessary for a later performance, and the waiters had
+long since rearranged the table for supper before Kenyon suggested
+adjourning to a club for a game of billiards which would amuse them
+until it was time to begin the business of the evening. So they walked
+round to the Harvard Club, and here Peter--the only one of the party who
+was completely his own master--became host.
+
+They played until a little short of twelve o'clock. By this time, having
+been additionally primed up with one or two Scotch whiskeys, Graham was
+ready for anything, and it was then that Kenyon suggested that he should
+take them to the famous studio. Graham jumped at the idea, falling, as
+Kenyon knew that he would, into the little trap set for him. "We're
+children in your hands, Graham," he said, with a subtle touch of
+flattery. "Lead us into the vortex of art with the lid off. I'm most
+frightfully keen to see this place and it'll be great fun for you, duly
+protected, to find out whether the Papowsky has discovered whether you
+were the Knight Errant who rescued one of her victims. Romance, old
+boy--romance with a big R." And so Graham, more than a little unsteady
+and with uproarious laughter, led the way.
+
+When they arrived at the studio-apartment in Fortieth Street they found
+the hall filled with people. It happened that Papowsky was giving an
+Egyptian night and nearly all of the habitues were in appropriate
+costumes. With the cunning of her species this woman knew very well that
+few things appeal so strongly to a certain type of men and women as
+dressing up,--which generally means undressing. The Japanese servant who
+took their hats and coats welcomed Graham with oily and deferential
+cordiality. "We are having a big night, sir," he said, with the peculiar
+sibilation of his kind and with his broad, flat hands clasped together.
+"It is Madame's birthday, sir. Yes, sir. You and the gentlemen will
+enjoy it very much."
+
+Peter and Kenyon followed Graham into the studio. Their curiosity,
+already stirred by the sight of the men and women in the hall, was added
+to by the Rembrandt effect of the high, wide room, whose darkness was
+only touched here and there by curious faint lights. The buzz of voices
+everywhere and little bursts of laughter proved that there were many
+people present. As they went in, a powerful lime-light was suddenly
+focused on the centre of the room and into this slid a string of young,
+small-breasted, round-limbed girls. Led by one who contorted herself in
+what was supposedly the Egyptian manner, they moved to and fro with bent
+knees and angular gestures, and rigid profiles. Music came out of the
+darkness,--the music of a string band with cymbals.
+
+"Good Lord!" said Kenyon. "What an amazing mixture of exotic stinks!"
+
+"Look out for your money," said Peter, with a touch of blunt
+materialism.
+
+Graham made for an unoccupied alcove, in which there was a flabby
+divan. On this they all three sat down and began to peer about. A few
+yards away from them they presently made out an astonishing group of
+young men dressed as Egyptians. They were sitting in affectionate
+closeness, simpering and tittering together. On the other side they
+gradually discerned an overwhelmingly fat, elderly woman holding a kind
+of Court. She was almost enveloped in pearls. Otherwise she was scantily
+hidden. Her feet were in sandals. Several mere boys had arranged
+themselves in picturesque attitudes about her and half a dozen maidens
+were grouped round her chair. One was fanning her with a large yellow
+leaf. The blue light under which Graham had sat listening to the
+whispered appeal of Ita Strabosck fell softly and erotically upon them.
+
+"Circe come to life," said Kenyon.
+
+"Ugh! I don't quite know how I'm going to prevent myself from being
+sick," said Peter.
+
+"Ah! but wait a bit," said Graham. "The show hasn't begun yet."
+
+It made a fairly good beginning as he spoke. The girls in the circle of
+light brought their attitudinizing to an end and their places were
+instantly taken by two painted men in coloured loin-cloths. To a
+screaming outburst of wild and incoherent music they gave what seemed to
+Kenyon to be a perfect imitation of civet-cats at play. They crawled
+along on all-fours, sprang high into the air, crouched, bounded, whirled
+round each other and finally, amid a roar of applause, rolled out of
+view wrapped in each other's arms.
+
+"Um!" said Kenyon. "After just such an exhibition as that Rome burst
+into flames."
+
+There was insistent demand for an encore. The performance was repeated
+with the same gusto and relish. The three men saw nothing of it. Just as
+the band burst forth again, Kenyon made a long arm, caught the skimpy
+covering of a girl who was passing and drew her into the alcove.
+
+"Come and cheer us up, Minutia," he said. "We feel like lost souls
+here."
+
+The girl was willing enough. It was her business to cheer. She stood in
+front of them for a moment so that the blue light should show her
+charms. She looked very young and tiny. Fair hair was twisted round her
+head. She wore nothing but a thin, loose Egyptian smock, but her small
+snub nose and impudent mouth placed her, whatever might be her costume,
+on Broadway. "Say! Why are you muts dressed like men?" she asked with
+eager interest.
+
+"Oh, well," said Kenyon, "we happen to be men; but I swear that we won't
+advertise the fact."
+
+The girl greatly enjoyed the remark, but her scream of laughter was
+drowned by the band. Then she caught sight of Graham. "Oh, hello, Kid!
+So you've come back."
+
+Graham made room for her. He rather liked being recognized. Kenyon would
+see that he knew his way about. "Yes, here I am again. It's difficult to
+get the Papowsky dope out of the system."
+
+"Don't see why you should try. It's pretty good dope, I guess." She
+snuggled herself in between Graham and Kenyon, putting an arm round
+each. She bent across Kenyon to examine Peter and gave an exaggeratedly
+dramatic cry of surprise and admiration. "My God! It's a giant! Say,
+dearie, you'd be the King of all the pussies, in a skin. All them dinky
+little love-birds would hop round your feet and chirp. Oh, gosh, you'd
+make some hit among the artists, sure!"
+
+"Think so?" said Peter. He would have given a great deal for a pipe at
+that moment, so that he could puff out great clouds of smoke as a
+disinfectant.
+
+"A gala night," said Graham.
+
+"Sure. If the police were to make a raid to-night,--gee, there'd be a
+fine list of names in to-morrer's papers!"
+
+"Think they will?" asked Kenyon. "By Jove! I wish they would. Think of
+seeing these people scuffling like frightened rabbits. It would be
+epoch-making."
+
+The girl turned a keenly interested eye on Kenyon and looked him over
+with unabashable deliberation. "You've got a funny kind of accent," she
+said. "What is it? English?"
+
+It was the first time that Kenyon had ever been accused of speaking with
+an accent. He was delighted. It appealed to his alert sense of humour.
+He laughed and nodded.
+
+"The giant ain't English, is he? Are you, dearie?"
+
+"No," said Peter.
+
+"That's fine. I guess I don't like the English much. They always strike
+me as being like Americans, trying hard to be different."
+
+"You don't dislike me, I hope? That would be a very bitter blow," said
+Kenyon, tweeking her ear.
+
+"Oh, you're a comic," she said. "You're all right. Is this your first
+visit?"
+
+"Yes. Have you been here long?" Kenyon asked the question carelessly, as
+though to keep the ball moving. It was, as a matter of fact, the
+beginning of his plan to disillusion Graham.
+
+"Oh, I've been in the business ever since it started. Ask the kid, he
+knows. Don't you, kid?"
+
+"Rather," said Graham.
+
+"I used to be in the chorus, but this is ther life."
+
+"I suppose so," said Kenyon. "Variety, gaiety, art,--what more can any
+girl desire?"
+
+"Dollars," she said dryly. "And I make more here, by a long way."
+
+"That's good. But,--but don't you get a little fed up? I mean it must be
+hopelessly monotonous to be shut up in one place all the time."
+
+"Don't know whatcher mean. Translate that, won't you?"
+
+"He means never getting out," said Graham.
+
+"Never getting out! I don't get you, Steve. Me and my sister get away
+after the show, same as any other."
+
+"What!" Graham was incredulous. It struck him that the girl was lying
+for reasons of loyalty to her employer. He knew better.
+
+"Oh, I see!" said Kenyon, leading her on carefully. "You don't live
+here, then?"
+
+"Live here? Of course I don't. I come about ten o'clock every night and
+leave anywhere between three and four in the morning. Earlier if there's
+nothing doing."
+
+"Oh, I thought that the girls here are,--well, held up, kept here all
+the time,--prisoners, so to speak."
+
+A shrill amused laugh rang out. "Oh, cut it out! What's all this dope?
+Say! you've been reading White Slave books. You're bug-house--dippy.
+Why, this is a respectable place, this is. This is the house of Art.
+We're models, that's what we are. We're only here for local colour. If
+we choose to make a bit extra on our own, we can." She laughed again. It
+was a good joke. The best that she had heard for years.
+
+Kenyon threw a quick glance at Graham's face. He could just see it in
+the dim light. The boy was listening intently--incredulously. So also
+was Peter, who had drawn himself into a corner and was hunched up
+uncomfortably.
+
+Kenyon began to feel excited. Everything was going almost unbelievably
+well. The girl was so frank, so open and obviously spontaneous. It was
+excellent. "Of course you tell us these things," he said, voicing what
+he knew was going silently through Graham's mind. "But we know better.
+We know that you, like that poor little girl, Ita Strabosck, are watched
+and not allowed to get away under any circumstances. Now, why not tell
+us the truth? We may be able to help you escape, too."
+
+Again she laughed. "Oh, say!" she said. "What are you anyway? Reporters
+on the trail of a story? I'm telling you the truth. Why not? As for
+Ita,--Oh, ho! She put it all over a boob, she did. She's ambitious, she
+is. She was out to find a mut who'd keep her, that was her game. She
+told us so from the first. We used to watch her trying one after another
+of the soft ones. But they were wise, they were. But at last some little
+feller fell for her foreign accent and little sobs. She had a fine tale
+all ready. Oh, she's clever. She ought to be on the stage playing parts.
+Most of us go round to her place in the daytime and have a good time
+with some of her men friends. I've not been yet. But from what my sister
+says, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she gets her man to marry her.
+From what she says, he's a sentimental Alick, and, O Gosh! won't she
+lead him some dance!"
+
+At last Graham broke forth, his face white, his eyes blazing and his
+whole body shaking as though he had ague. "You're lying!" he shouted.
+"Every word you've said's a lie!"
+
+The girl, entirely unoffended at this involuntary outburst, bent forward
+and looked at Graham with a new gleam of intelligence, amusement and
+curiosity. "My word, I believe you're Mr. Strabosck. I believe you're
+the boob. Oh, say! come into the light. I guess I must have a look at
+you."
+
+Graham got up, stood swaying for a moment as though he had received a
+blow between the eyes, and staggered across the room and out into the
+passage.
+
+"Now he knows," said Kenyon. "Come on, Peter. We shall have our work cut
+to hold him in. There was blood in his eyes." Utterly ignoring the girl,
+Kenyon made for the door, forced his way through new arrivals and found
+Graham utterly sober, but with his mouth set dangerously, standing in
+front of the Japanese. "My hat and coat, quick!" he was saying, "or I'll
+break the place up."
+
+"Steady, steady," said Kenyon. "We don't want a scene here."
+
+"Scene be damned. I tell you something's got to break."
+
+The Japanese ducked into the coat-room.
+
+"Where's Peter?" Graham looked back expecting to see his brother's head
+and shoulders above the crowd. There was no sign of him.
+
+By accident the lime-light which had been suddenly turned on for a new
+performance fell on Peter as he was marching towards the door of the
+studio. Instantly he found himself surrounded by half a dozen
+good-natured men who had all taken a little too much to drink. They,
+like the other people present, were in Egyptian clothes and obviously
+glad to see in Peter a healthy normal specimen of humanity.
+
+"Oh, hello, brother, where are you off to?" asked one.
+
+"Out!" said Peter shortly.
+
+"I'll be darned if you are. Come and have a drink!"
+
+"No, thanks, I've other things to do."
+
+"Oh, rot! Be a sport and stay and help us to stir things up. Come on,
+now!"
+
+Peter tried to push his way through. "Please get out of the way," he
+said.
+
+But a jovial red-headed fellow got into it. "You're staying, if I have
+to make you."
+
+Something snapped in Peter's brain. Before he could control himself he
+bent down and picked up the man by the scruff of his neck and the cloth
+that was wound round his middle and heaved him over the heads of the
+crowd into a divan, and then hitting out right and left cleared a path
+to the door, leaving chaos and bleeding noses behind him. Without
+waiting to get his hat and coat he made a dash for the elevator, caught
+it just as it was about to descend and went down to the main floor
+dishevelled and panting.
+
+Out in the street he saw Kenyon trying to put Graham into a taxicab.
+Kenyon saw him and called out. "Come on, or Papowsky will make it hot
+for us."
+
+On his way home from a late evening at one of his clubs, Ranken Townsend
+caught the name Papowsky, whose evil reputation had come to his ears. He
+threw a quick glance at the men who were leaving her place and saw that
+one of them was Peter. He drew up and stood in front of the man in whom
+he thought he had recognized cleanness and excellence and told himself
+that he was utterly mistaken.
+
+"So this was your precious business engagement," he said, with icy
+contempt. "Well, I don't give my daughter to a man who shares her with
+women like Papowsky, so you may consider yourself free. Good night."
+
+And the smile that turned up the corners of Kenyon's mouth had in it the
+epitome of triumph. All along the line he had won. All along the line.
+
+Peter watched the tall disappearing figure. He felt as though he had
+been kicked in the mouth.
+
+
+
+
+PART THREE
+
+LIFE
+
+
+I
+
+That night was one of the most extraordinary that Peter ever spent.
+Although he was smarting under the terrible injustice of Ranken
+Townsend's few, but very definite words, and felt like a man who had
+suddenly come up to an abyss, he took Graham in hand and devoted
+himself, with all the tenderness of a woman, to this poor boy.
+
+All the way home in the cab Graham had been more or less held down by
+Kenyon and his brother. His brain was in a wild chaos. The realization
+that he had been tricked and made a fool of hit him hard. In his first
+great flush of anger he was filled with an overwhelming desire to go to
+the apartment in which he had placed Ita Strabosck and smash it up. He
+wanted to have the satisfaction of breaking and ripping apart every
+piece of furniture that he had bought to make her comfortable and happy,
+and make an absolute shambles of the place. He wanted also to order that
+girl out into the street. At that moment he no longer cared what
+happened to her or where she went. His vanity had received its first
+rude shock. All the way home he shouted at the top of his voice and
+struggled to get away from the men who were looking after him. It took
+all Peter's strength to hold him tight. It was by no means a good sight
+to see this young man, who only half an hour before had been
+exhilarated by champagne and the feeling that he was really of some
+account as a man of the world, reduced to a condition of utter weariness
+by his violent outbursts. At first he absolutely refused to enter the
+house and insisted upon walking up and down the street. Finally, by
+making an appeal to his brother's affection, Peter persuaded him to go
+in quietly and up to his own room. There, pale and exhausted and
+entirely out of spirits, Graham turned quickly on his brother. "Keep
+Kenyon out," he said. "For God's sake, keep Kenyon out! I want _you_."
+
+Kenyon heard these words and smiled to himself, nodded to Peter, and
+went downstairs again to make himself comfortable in the library and
+have a final cigarette before going to bed. He had every reason for
+self-congratulation. Graham was free,--there was no doubt about
+that,--and it looked as though Peter also would now be able to be made
+useful again. Luck certainly had been on his side that night.
+
+It was not much after one o'clock when Peter shut the door of Graham's
+bed-room. From then onwards he turned himself into a sort of nurse,
+doing his best to concentrate all his thoughts on his brother's trouble
+and keep his own until such time as he could deal with it; and, while
+Graham poured out his heart--going over his story of the Ita Strabosck
+rescue again and again--Peter quietly undressed him, bit by bit. "Yes,
+old man," he kept saying, "I quite understand; but what you've got to do
+now is to get to bed and to sleep. Let me take off your coat. That's
+right. Now sit down for a second. Now let me undo your shoes. It's a
+jolly good thing I came home. You bet your life I'll stand by you and
+see you through--you bet your life I will!"
+
+"And you swear you'll not say anything about this to mother or Belle,
+and especially father--even if I'm ill,--in fact to any one? You swear
+it?"
+
+"Of course," said Peter.
+
+There was something comical as well as pathetic in the sight of this big
+fellow playing the woman to this distraught boy,--undoing his tie,
+taking off his collar and gradually getting him ready for bed. It was a
+long and difficult process and needed consummate tact, tender firmness
+and quiet determination. A hundred times Graham would spring to his feet
+and--with one shoe on and one shoe off, minus coat and waistcoat, tie
+and collar--pace the room from end to end, gesticulating wildly, sending
+out a torrent of words in a hoarse whisper--sometimes almost on the
+verge of tears. He was only twenty-four--not much more than a boy. It
+was very hard luck that he should be up against so sordid a slice of
+life at a time when he stood at the beginning of everything.
+
+But Peter knew intuitively that it was absolutely necessary for Graham
+to rid his system of this Strabosck poison and empty out his heart and
+soul before he could be put to sleep, like a tired child. And so, with
+the utmost patience, he subjected himself to play the part of a mental
+as well as a physical nurse. Better than that, he mothered his brother,
+smoothed him down, sympathized with him, assured him again and again
+that he had done the only possible thing; and finally as the first touch
+of dawn crept into the room had the infinite satisfaction of putting the
+clothes about his brother's shoulders and seeing his dark head buried in
+his pillow. Even then he was not wholly satisfied. Creeping upon tip-toe
+about the room he laid hands on Graham's razors and put them in his
+pocket. He was possessed with a sort of terror that the boy might wake
+up and, acting under a strong revulsion of feeling, cut his throat. It
+must be remembered that he had watched a human being under the strain
+and stress of a very strong and terrible emotion and he was naturally
+afraid. He knew his brother's excitable temperament. He had heard him
+confess that the girl had exercised over him something more than mere
+physical attraction, and although he was no psychologist it was easy for
+him to see that, for a time at any rate, Graham was just as ready to
+hurt himself as to hurt the girl. Some one had to be paid out for his
+suffering and it was Peter's business to see that his brother, at any
+rate, escaped punishment. Not content with having got Graham to bed and
+to sleep and secured the razors which might be used in a moment of
+impetuousness, Peter stayed on, sat down near the bed and listened to
+one after another of the sounds of the great city's awakening. It was
+then that he permitted himself to think back. He didn't remember the
+fracas in the studio apartment or the unpleasantness of the place with
+the unhealthy, unpleasant creatures who had been there. He repeated to
+himself over and over again the words--the cold, cruel words of Ranken
+Townsend,--"So this was your precious business engagement. Well, I don't
+give my daughter to a man who shares her with women like Papowsky, so
+you may consider yourself free." In his mind's eye he could see the tall
+artist march away. He felt again as though he had been kicked in the
+mouth.
+
+
+II
+
+Ranken Townsend had arranged a sitting with Madame Mascheri, the famous
+opera singer, at eleven o'clock. He entered his studio at ten, and the
+first thing he did was to ring up one of his best friends and get into a
+quarrel with him. He had already so surprised his old servant at
+breakfast that she had retired to the kitchen in tears. He was angry and
+sore and there was likely to be a nice clash in the studio when he said
+sharp things to the spoiled lady who considered that all men were in
+their proper places only when they were at her feet.
+
+Ranken Townsend was more than angry. He was disappointed--mentally
+sick--completely out of gear. He had seen Peter Guthrie--and there was
+no argument about the fact--come out of a notorious house, dishevelled
+and apparently drunk. It was a sad blow to him. A bad shock. The effects
+of it had kept him awake nearly all night. Betty was the apple of his
+eye. He was going to protect her at all costs, and he knew that in doing
+so he must bring great unhappiness into her life. He had believed in
+Peter Guthrie. He had seemed to him to be a big, strong, clean, honest,
+simple, true fellow who had gone straight and who meant to continue to
+go straight. It meant a tremendous amount, an altogether incalculable
+amount to him as a father to have found that his estimate was wrong. He
+realized perfectly well that his words had been harsh the night before.
+He detested to have been obliged to say them; but, for the sake of his
+little girl, he was not going back on them. The evidence was too strong.
+
+The telephone bell rang. He stalked across to it. "Well?" he said.
+"What's that? Who did you say? Send him up at once." And then, with his
+jaw set and his hands thrust deep into his pockets, he took up a stand
+in the middle of the studio and waited.
+
+It was Peter. He came in quietly and looked very tired. "Good morning,
+Mr. Townsend," he said.
+
+The answer was sharp and antagonistic. "I don't agree with you."
+
+Peter put down his hat and stick, went up to the artist and stood in
+front of him squarely and without fear. "You're going to withdraw what
+you said last night."
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because it was unjust and no man is hanged in these times before he's
+given a chance to defend himself."
+
+"No one is going to hang you, Peter Guthrie. You've hanged yourself."
+
+"No, no," said Peter, "that won't do. It isn't like you to adopt this
+attitude and I must ask you to treat me properly."
+
+Townsend shot out a short laugh. "There's no need for you to ask me to
+do that. My treatment of you is going to be so proper that this is going
+to be the last time you'll come into this studio. I've done with you. So
+far as I'm concerned you're over. Betty isn't going to see you or hear
+from you again. I consider that it was a mighty good accident that took
+me into Fortieth Street last night. That's all I have to say."
+
+Peter didn't budge. He just squared his shoulders and tilted his chin a
+little more. "I don't think that's all you've got to say," he said. "I
+quite understand that you had a bad shock when you saw me coming out of
+that place last night. If I were in your shoes I should say just what
+you're saying now."
+
+"It's something to win your approval," said Townsend, sarcastically,
+"and I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you for coming down town to give
+me your praise."
+
+"Oh, don't talk like that," said Peter. "It doesn't do any good and it
+doesn't help to clear things up."
+
+"You can't clear things up. Neither of us can. You began by lying to me
+when you said you had a business engagement, and you wound up by coming
+out drunk of the rottenest house in this city. And, see here! I don't
+like your tone. I'm not standing here to be reproved by you for my
+attitude in this matter. I might be more inclined to give you a chance
+if you made a clean breast of it."
+
+"I wish I could," said Peter, "but I can't. All I can tell you is that I
+had to go to that place last night for a very good reason. I'd never
+been there before and I shall never go there again. I hadn't even heard
+of the place until a few days ago. You've got to accept my word of
+honour that I went there with a friend of mine to get a man who means a
+very great deal to me out of bad trouble."
+
+"It's taken you sometime to think that out," said Townsend, brutally.
+
+Peter winced as if he had been struck. He had gone to the studio under
+the belief that everything would be quite easy. He was honest. His
+conscience was clear. He was not a liar. Surely his word would be
+accepted. Whatever happened he wasn't going to be disloyal to his
+brother. Apart from the fact that he had sworn not to give Graham away,
+he wasn't the kind that blabbed. He tried again, still keeping himself
+well under control, although he was unable to hide the fact that Ranken
+Townsend's utter disbelief in him hurt deeply.
+
+"Mr. Townsend," he said, "I don't want to do anything to make you more
+angry than you are. It's perfectly simple for you to say that you won't
+have me marry Betty. But remember this: I've only got to go to Betty and
+ask her to marry me, with or without your consent, and she will. If you
+don't believe me, you don't know Betty."
+
+"Ah! but that's exactly where you make your mistake," said Townsend. "I
+_do_ know Betty. And let me tell you this, Peter Guthrie: My girl has
+been brought up. She hasn't been dragged up or allowed to bring herself
+up. The consequence is that she's not among the army of present-day
+girls who look upon their fathers and mothers as any old trash to be
+swept aside and over-ridden whenever it suits them to do so. I'm the man
+to whom she owes all the happiness and comfort that she's known. I'm the
+man who's proud to be responsible for her, to whom she belongs and who
+knows a wide stretch more of life and its troubles than she does,--and,
+not being an empty-headed, individualistic, precocious little fool, she
+knows it too. She belongs to a past decade--to an old-fashioned family.
+Therefore, what I say goes; and if I tell her that, for a very good
+reason, I don't want her to have anything to do with you, she will be
+desperately unhappy, but she'll not question my authority or my right to
+say so. These are facts, however absurd and strange they may appear to
+you. I think it would be a damned good thing if other fathers took the
+trouble to get on the same footing with their daughters. There'd be less
+unhappiness and fewer grave mistakes if they did." He was almost on the
+verge of adding, "Look at your sister Belle if you don't believe me."
+
+Peter had nothing to say.
+
+The two men stood facing one another, gravely, in silence. They were
+both moved and stirred. And then Peter nodded. "I'm glad you're Betty's
+father," he said at last. "She owes you more than she can ever pay
+back. I give you my word that I shan't attempt to dispute your
+authority. I respect you, Mr. Townsend, and when I marry Betty I want to
+have your consent and approval. I also give you my word that it was
+absolutely necessary for me to go to Papowsky's last night, without any
+explanation whatever. Are you going to take it?"
+
+"No," said Townsend; "I'm not. Even if I'd known you for years what you
+ask is too much for me to swallow. Good Lord, man! can't you see that
+I'm protecting my daughter--the one person I love in this world--the one
+person whose happiness means more to me than anything on earth? Why
+should I believe that you're different from other young men,--the
+average young man whom I see every day, who no more cares about going
+clean to the woman he is going to marry than he does for running
+straight afterwards? I don't know you and hitherto I've accepted you on
+your face value. When it comes to the question of a man's trusting his
+daughter to the first person who comes and asks him for her, he's got to
+be pretty sure of what he's doing. In any case, I don't hold with the
+old saying that 'young men will be young men.' You may sow your wild
+oats if you like, but they're not going to blossom in the garden of a
+little girl who belongs to me. In that respect I'm as narrow-minded as a
+Quaker. And let me tell you this finally: I know the sort of place that
+Papowsky's is. I know what goes on there and the sort of people who
+frequent it. To my mind any man who's seen coming out of it does for
+himself as the future husband of any good girl. If you have, as you say,
+a good reason for going there, tell it to me. If not, get out."
+
+The artist had said these things with intense feeling. Hard as they
+were, Peter had to acknowledge that they were right. Just for one
+instant he wavered. He was on the point of giving the whole story away.
+Then his loyalty to his brother came back to him. He would rather be
+shot than go back on the man who had trusted him and with whom he had
+grown up with such deep affection. "Very well," he said, "that settles
+it. I've nothing more to say. But one of these days I'll prove that my
+word of honor was worth taking. In the meantime, you can't stop me from
+loving Betty and you'll never be able to stop Betty from loving me."
+
+He turned on his heel, took up his hat and stick and went out.
+
+
+III
+
+Graham was sitting up in bed when Peter returned to his room. He was
+looking about him with an expression of queer surprise,--puzzled
+apparently to find himself in his room.
+
+"Oh, hello, old man!" said Peter. "How d'you feel?"
+
+Graham put his hand up to his head. "I don't know yet. Have I been
+asleep? I thought I'd been in a railway accident. I was looking about
+for the broken girders and the ghastly signs of a smash."
+
+He got slowly out of bed, put on his slippers and walked up and down for
+a few minutes with a heavy frown on his face. The emotion of the night
+before had left its marks. He stopped in front of a chair on the back of
+which his evening clothes were hanging neatly. He remembered that he had
+thrown them off. He noticed--at first with irritation--that the things
+on his dressing-table had been re-arranged--tampered with. It didn't
+look as he liked it to look. Something had been taken away. It dawned on
+him that all his razors had been removed. "Removed,"--the word sent a
+sort of electric shock through his brain as it passed through. He went
+over to the window and looked out into the street. The sun glorified
+everything with its wonderful touch. Good God! To think that he might be
+standing at that very moment on the other side of the great veil.
+
+"I don't know--I don't know what to say to you for all this, Peter," he
+said.
+
+Peter sat down, thrust his hands into his pockets and his long legs out
+in front of him. Reaction had set in. He felt depressed and wretched.
+"One of these days," he said, "I may ask you to do the same thing for
+me."
+
+Something in his tone made Graham turn round sharply. "What's wrong?"
+
+"Everything's wrong," said Peter. "But I'll tell you some other time.
+Your affair has got to be settled first."
+
+"No; tell me now," said Graham. He dreaded to feel that he was the cause
+somehow or other of bringing trouble upon his brother. Never before in
+all his life had he seen Peter looking like that.
+
+"Mr. Townsend happened to be passing Papowsky's last night and saw me
+coming out. I'd had a scrap up in the studio with a bunch of men who
+were half drunk. I must have looked like it. He told me that he wouldn't
+have me marry Betty, and he repeated it this morning. I've just come
+away from his place. That's what's the matter with me."
+
+"Oh, curse me!" cried Graham. "Curse me for a fool!"
+
+Peter sprang to his feet. "Don't start worrying about me. And look here;
+don't let's waste time in trying to scrape up spilt milk. I'm going to
+marry Betty, that's a dead certainty, and sooner or later Mr. Townsend
+will withdraw the brutal things he said to me. And you're going to wipe
+your slate clean, right away. So buck up and get busy, old man. Have
+your bath and get dressed as soon as you can. I'm going to help you to
+fix your affair as soon as you're ready."
+
+"How?" asked Graham.
+
+"I don't know quite. I think I'll ask Kenyon."
+
+"No, don't. Let's do it together. I don't want Kenyon to see,--I mean
+I'd rather Kenyon was out of it. I'd rather that you were the only one
+to look on at the remainder of my humiliation,--that's the word. He
+knows quite enough as it is."
+
+"All right!" said Peter. "Hurry up, then. We'll go round to the
+apartment and see Ita Strabosck. I cashed a cheque on the way back from
+Mr. Townsend's. We can't let her go out into the street with nothing in
+her pocket,--that's impossible."
+
+Graham nodded. He couldn't find words to say what he felt about it all.
+There was a look of acute pain on his pale face as he went into the
+bath-room.
+
+And then Peter sat down at his brother's table and wrote a little note
+to Betty:
+
+     My own dearest Baby:
+
+     Something has happened and your father--who's a fine fellow and
+     well worthy of you--believes that I'm such a rotter that he's
+     told me to consider myself scratched. I'm going to play the
+     game by him for your sake as well as his. Don't worry about it.
+     Leave everything to me. I won't ask you to go on loving me and
+     believing in me, because that you must do, just as I shall go
+     on loving you and believing in you. _It has to be._ I've got to
+     think things over to see what can be done.
+
+     In the meantime, and as long as I live,
+                                                   Your PETER.
+
+He addressed the letter and put the envelope in his pocket. Then he went
+to the bath-room and called out: "Old man, shall I have some breakfast
+sent up for you?" The answer was, "No; the sight of food would make me
+sick."
+
+Graham dressed quickly and nothing more was said by either of the
+brothers until they went out into the street together.
+
+"We'll get a cab," said Peter.
+
+"No; I'm too broke. Let's walk."
+
+And so they walked hard, arm in arm. It seemed rather an insult to
+Graham that the day was so fine, the sky so blue and equable and that
+all the passers-by seemed to be going on their way untroubled. He'd have
+been better pleased if the day had been dark and ugly and if everybody
+had been hurrying through rain and sleet. His own mind was disturbed by
+a storm of the most unpleasant thoughts. The girl whom they were on
+their way to see had exercised a strong physical fascination over him.
+He had believed in her absolutely. She had meant a great deal to him.
+Her deceit and cunning selfishness brought pessimism into his soul. It
+was a bad feeling.
+
+As they came up to the house with its shabby door, a man well-past
+middle age,--a flabby, vulgar person, with thick awkward legs,--left it
+rather quickly and walked in the opposite direction. The two boys went
+in and Peter led the way up the dark staircase. The door was open and
+Lily, the colored maid, was holding a shrill argument with a man with a
+basket full of empty siphons on his arm. Her face broke into an odd and
+knowing smile when she saw Graham. They passed her without a word and
+went along the passage into the sitting-room. It was empty, but in a
+hideous state of disorder. There was about it all that last night look
+which is so unpleasant and insalubrious. The windows had not been opened
+and the room reeked with stale tobacco smoke and beer. Cigar stumps lay
+like dead snails on the carpet. Empty bottles were everywhere and dirty
+glasses. Through the half-open door which led into the bed-room they
+heard a flutey, uncertain soprano voice singing a curious foreign song.
+
+After a moment of weakness and indecision, Graham pulled himself
+together and called out: "Ita! Ita!" sharply.
+
+The song ceased abruptly. There was a cry of well-simulated joy and the
+girl, with her hair frowzled and a thin dressing-gown over her
+night-dress, ran into the room with naked feet. She drew up short when
+she saw the expression on Graham's face and Peter's square shoulders
+behind him. "Somesing ees ze matter," she said. "Oh, tell me!" Second
+nature and constant practice made the girl begin to act. This was
+obviously an opportunity for being dramatic.
+
+With a huge effort Graham controlled himself. "I'm giving up this
+apartment to-day," he said.
+
+"You are giving up----?"
+
+"I said so."
+
+"And what ees to become of me? You take me somewhere else?"
+
+"No. I hope I shall never see you again--never!"
+
+The girl burst forth. How well he knew that piteous gesture--that
+pleading voice--the tears that came into those large almond eyes,--all
+those tricks which had made him what he had been called the night before
+at Papowsky's--"a boob". "What 'ave I done? Do you not love me any more?
+I love you. I will die for you. You are everysing to me. Do not leave me
+to ze mercy of ze world. Graham! Graham! My saviour! I love you zo!"
+
+Graham shook her off. "Please don't," he said. "Just pack your things
+and dress yourself. All I've got to say to you is that I've found you
+out. Perhaps you'd better go back to Papowsky's. You're very
+clever,--they all say so there. Find another damned young fool--that'll
+be easy."
+
+The girl suddenly threw back her head and broke into an amazing laugh.
+The sound of it,--so merry--so full of a sort of elfin amusement,--was
+as startling to the two boys as though a bomb had been dropped into the
+room. "I could not find such a damned fool as you," she said loudly and
+coarsely, "eef I 'unted the earth. Eef you 'ad waited to come until
+to-night you would 'ave found zis little nest empty and ze bird flown.
+There ees a better boob zan you. Perhaps you met 'im going out. 'E
+marries me to-morrow. I vas to keep zat for a leetle surprise. Oh, yes,
+I am clever, and eet kills me with laughing to zee you stand there like
+a school teacher. You turn over a new leaf now, eh? Zat ees good. Zo do
+I. To-morrow I am a wife. I marry a man. My time with babies ees over."
+
+She picked up a glass that was half-full of beer and with a gesture of
+supreme contempt jerked it into Graham's face. Then, with the quickness
+of an eel, she returned to her bedroom and slammed the door. They heard
+her laughing uncontrollably.
+
+Graham wiped his face with his handkerchief, and dropped it on the floor
+with a shiver. "I shan't want to borrow any money from you, Peter," he
+said in a low voice. "Let's go."
+
+And they went out into the street together--into the sun, and took a
+long breath of relief--a long, clean breath, untainted by stale tobacco
+smoke and beer and the pungent scent of Ita Strabosck.
+
+Peter made no attempt to put into words his intense sympathy, but he
+took his brother's arm and held it tight, and Graham was very grateful.
+Right out of the very bottom of his heart two tears welled up into his
+eyes as he walked away.
+
+After all, he was only twenty-four.
+
+
+IV
+
+On her way up to her room that night, Ethel drew up short outside
+Graham's bedroom door. She knew that he was in, which was in itself
+unusual. She thought there must be something the matter, because she had
+seen Graham leave the house in the morning long after his usual time.
+She had also watched his face at dinner and had seen in it something
+that frightened her. It was true that Peter was her favorite brother,
+but she was very fond of and had great admiration for Graham. Also she,
+herself, was in trouble. Trouble seemed to be an epidemic in that
+family. Her Knight Errant next door, in spite of her signalling and the
+fact that she had laid out as usual the cigarettes and the candies, had
+deserted her. In order to receive his visits and feed herself on the
+excitement with which they provided her, she was still maintaining her
+pretence of invalidism, and the worst of it was she now knew that she
+had grown to be very fond of the boy, who at first had only been a
+source of amusement.
+
+So, with a fellow-feeling for Graham, she listened outside his door. She
+wanted very badly to slip in and give her sympathy to her brother and
+receive some of it from him. She didn't feel quite as individualistic as
+usual. The artificiality of the flapper left her for the time being and
+she felt as young as she really was and rather helpless, and awfully
+lonely.
+
+Hearing nothing, she tapped gently on the door, opened it and went in.
+Graham was sitting in an arm-chair with his elbows on his knees and his
+head between his hands. He made a picture of wretchedness which would
+have melted the heart of a sphinx. Ethel went over to him and put her
+hand on his shoulder. "Is anything the matter, Hammie?" she asked, using
+the nickname that she had given him as a child.
+
+Graham didn't look up. "Oh, Lord, no!" he said, with a touch of
+impatience. "What should be the matter?" But he was very glad to feel
+that touch of friendliness on his shoulders.
+
+"Can I do anything for you?"
+
+"Oh, no. I'm all right--as right as rain."
+
+Ethel knew better. She knew also that she would have said those very
+things to Belle if she had been caught in a similar state of depression.
+So she sat down on the arm of Graham's chair and put her hand against
+his cheek. "I've got about a hundred and seventy-five dollars, if that's
+any good to you," she said.
+
+Graham gave a scoffing laugh, but all the same he was very grateful for
+the offer. "My dear kid," he said, "a hundred and seventy-five
+dollars--that's no better than a dry bone to a hungry man."
+
+"Is it as bad as all that, Hammie?"
+
+"Yes, and then some."
+
+Ethel thought deeply for a few minutes. Her characteristic selfishness,
+which had been almost tenderly encouraged at school, had given way
+temporarily before her own disappointment. "Well," she said finally,
+"I've got four brooches and five rings, a watch and a dressing-case. You
+can sell them all if you like."
+
+Then Graham turned round, gave his little sister one short, affectionate
+look and put his head down on her shoulder. "Don't say anything,
+please," he said. "Just let me stay here for a minute. It does me good."
+
+And he stayed there for many minutes, and the two sat silently and
+quietly, getting from each other in their mutual trouble the necessary
+help which both needed so much. A strange, new feeling of motherliness
+stole over the girl. It surprised her. It was almost like being in
+church on Christmas Eve, or listening to the most beautiful melody.
+
+It was a long time since these two had taken the trouble to meet each
+other half-way. The thoughts of both went back to those good hours when
+Graham had put his little sister on a sled in front of him and pushed
+her, laughing merrily, over the hard snow in the park. He had never even
+dreamed in those days of money and the fever that it brings, or women
+and the pain they make.
+
+And then Graham got up, just a little ashamed of himself,--after all, he
+was now a man of the world,--and saw that Ethel's cheeks were wet with
+tears. It was his turn to try and help. "Good Lord!" he said. "You don't
+mean to say that you're worried about anything. What is it?"
+
+She shook her head and turned her face away. "Oh, nothing--nothing at
+all."
+
+All the same she felt much, ever so much better for the kiss that he
+gave her, and went along to her own room half-determined to be honest
+with herself and go back to school the next day. She was rather startled
+to find the smell of cigarette smoke in her bedroom, which was in
+darkness. She turned up the nearest light and almost gave a cry of joy
+when she found the boy from next door sitting on the window-sill.
+
+"Jack!" she cried. "I thought you were--I thought you had----"
+
+Jack threw his cigarette out of the window and got up awkwardly. "I got
+your note just now," he said, "and so I've come."
+
+Ethel went to the door and locked it. All the clouds had rolled away.
+She was very happy. She had evidently made a mistake. He must have been
+prevented from coming. She wished he'd given her time to powder her nose
+and arrange the curls about her ears. As it was, she opened the box of
+cigarettes and held out the candies to him.
+
+"No, thanks," said Jack. "I'm off chocolates and I've knocked off
+smoking to a great extent."
+
+With a womanly touch which she and all women have inherited from Eve,
+who never forgot to stand with her back to the sun and took care, if
+possible, to remain in the woods until after breakfast, Ethel turned on
+a shaded light and switched off the strong overhead glare which made her
+look every day of her fifteen years. Then she sat down with the light
+over her left shoulder. She was quite herself again. All was well with
+the world.
+
+"Where have you been?" she asked, a little imperiously.
+
+"Nowhere," said Jack.
+
+"Then why haven't you been to see me? I have signalled every night. I
+can't understand it."
+
+"I know you can't. That's why I've stayed away."
+
+Ethel was puzzled at the boy's solemn tone. "Of course, if you don't
+want to come, please don't. I wouldn't drag you here against your will
+for anything."
+
+"Yes, but I _do_ want to come. I stay away for your sake, and I'm not
+coming again after this evening."
+
+That was exactly what Ethel wanted to hear. She'd been afraid that Jack
+had found some one else. Now she knew differently. "Don't be silly," she
+said. "Have a cigarette. Come and sit on the sofa and don't let's waste
+time."
+
+But Jack didn't move. He had gone back to the window-sill and remained
+hunched up on the narrow ledge, holding on with both hands. "I'm off in
+a minute," he said. "I'm just going to tell you one or two things
+before I go. Would you like to hear them?"
+
+"If they're pleasant," she said.
+
+"Well, they're not pleasant."
+
+"Well, then, tell me."
+
+For a moment or two Jack remained silent. Perhaps he was trying to find
+careful words into which to put his thoughts. When finally he spoke it
+was with a suppressed emotion that sent a quiver through the quiet room.
+"I can't stand coming here," he said. "I can't stand it. I don't know
+what you are--whether you're a mere baby who knows nothing, or an
+absolute little rotter. You tell me I can say what I think, so I'm going
+to." He got up and went a little nearer to the sofa. "What d'you think
+I'm made of? Look at yourself in the glass and then see whether you're
+the sort of a girl who can let a man into her bedroom night after night
+for nothing. I tell you I can't stand it. I stayed away, not because I
+wanted to, but because I didn't want to do you any harm. I was a fool
+for coming here at all. If I didn't believe that you are simply a silly
+girl I'd stay to-night and come every night as I used to do, but I'm
+going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Next time you signal to a
+man take care to find out what he's made of and be a bit more careful.
+There, now you've got it. Good night and good-bye. I've a darned good
+mind to put the note you sent me to-night in an envelope and address it
+to your mother. It would save some other fellow from a good deal of
+unnecessary discomfort. I'm frightfully sorry to be so brutal, but I
+don't believe you know what you're doing. Perhaps this'll be a lesson to
+you."
+
+He turned quickly, swung himself out, went up the rope ladder hand over
+hand and drew it up after him.
+
+Ethel closed her eyes and sat rigid. The boy might have planted his fist
+in her face.
+
+
+V
+
+Kenyon had taken Mrs. Guthrie and Belle to the Thirty-ninth Street
+Theatre that night. A quiet little romantic play, quite unpretentiously
+written, had found its way to that theatre either by accident or as a
+stop-gap. The manager who put it there had arranged, even before the
+opening performance, to replace it at the end of the week with something
+which had a punch,--a coarse, vulgar, artificial piece of mechanism such
+as he had been in the habit of producing all of his managerial life. His
+intention to do this was strengthened by the press notices, which all
+agreed that the new piece was a very little play about nothing in
+particular and which made too great a demand upon the imagination of its
+audience. That last remark of the critics was worth a million dollars to
+the play's author. The theatre remained almost empty until the Friday
+night of its first--and if the manager had anything to do with it--only
+week. The scenery for the new production was already stacked on the
+stage. But to the amazement of all concerned, except the author, the
+theatre did business. The house was almost full and the box office was
+so busy that the young man who looked after it,--a past-master in
+rudeness,--became quite querulous. On Saturday night there was a full
+house and the booking was so big for the following week that the notices
+of withdrawal were taken down and the play with a punch had to find
+another home. The manager, greatly put out, watched this little play
+sail into a big, steady success, and whenever his numerous
+acquaintances--he had no friends--caught him in an unbusy moment, he
+would say: "I can't make it out. It beats me. Look at the notices. I
+couldn't understand a word of the thing when I read it. I only put it
+into the theatre to keep it warm. My word, I don't know what the public
+wants." He didn't, and he never would. But the author knew. He had made
+a play which appealed to the imagination of his audience.
+
+Peter had watched the party go to the theatre after an early dinner; had
+seen Graham go up to his room and his father drive away to a meeting at
+the Academy of Medicine; and then, anxious to be alone and think things
+over, he too left the house for a long, hard tramp. He went into the
+park and walked round and round the reservoir. The night was fine and
+clear, and up in the sky, which was pitted with stars, a young moon lay
+on her back. From all sides the music of traffic came to his ears in a
+never-ceasing refrain, and high up he could see the numerous electric
+signs which came and went with steady precision and monotony. Every now
+and then he caught sight of the Plaza, whose windows all seemed to be
+alight. It gave a peculiar touch of fantasy to that side of the Park.
+
+Peter found himself thinking of some of the things which Ranken Townsend
+had said to him. Without bitterness, and certainly without anger, he
+began to see something in the artist's bluntness which gradually made
+him long, with a sort of boyish anguish, to go in to his own father. The
+more he thought about this the more it seemed to him right and necessary
+and urgent to beard the Doctor in his den and break down the curious
+barrier which shyness had erected between him and his children. He
+realized at that moment that he stood desperately in need of a father's
+help and advice. It was quite obvious to him also that Graham needed
+these things even more than he did. If only they could both go to that
+wise and good man who stood aloof and get something more from him than
+the mere money with which he was so generous. He knew--no one
+better--that he always received from his mother the most tender
+sympathy, but how could he discuss with her some of the things with
+which he was faced since the Ita Strabosck episode had come into his
+life? Kenyon had done much to make it plain to him that it was not good
+to continue to walk in blank ignorance of the vital facts with which his
+father dealt daily. He was a man and he had to live in the world. His
+boyish days among boys were over. They belonged to the past.
+
+It was borne in upon him as he went round and round the wide stretch of
+placid water in which was reflected the moon and stars, that his father
+should know all about Graham. Certain things that Kenyon had said stuck
+to his mind like burrs. If he could persuade Graham to make a clean
+breast of it to the Doctor, the brother who meant so much to him might
+be saved from a disaster which would not merely affect himself, but
+others,--a wife and children perhaps. Kenyon had hinted at this and the
+hint was growing in Peter's mind like an abscess. It was time that he
+and his brother faced facts and knew them. Who could initiate them
+better than the distinguished doctor whose life had been devoted to such
+serious questions?
+
+Having brought himself up to this point and being also tremendously
+anxious to tell his father of the position in which he stood with Mr.
+Townsend, Peter determined to strike while the iron was hot--to go home
+and see his father at once. He left the park quickly, and when finally
+he let himself into the house was astonished to see how late it was. The
+servant told him that his mother and sister had come back from the
+theatre and had gone to bed. "Mr. Kenyon," he added, "came back, but
+went out again at once. Mr. Graham went to bed early and the Doctor has
+not returned yet."
+
+"Good!" thought Peter. "Then I'll wait for him." He gave up his hat and
+stick, went through the quiet, dimly lit library, and after a moment's
+hesitation opened the door of the Blue Room,--that room in which he had
+been so seldom, hitherto only under protest. He had opened the door
+quietly and was astonished to see Graham sitting at his father's desk
+with the light from a reading lamp shining on his dark head. "By Jove,
+Graham!" he said. "You must have been thinking my thoughts. This is
+extraordinary."
+
+Graham looked up with a start and thrust something under the
+blotting-pad. His face went as white as a sheet and he stammered a few
+incoherent words.
+
+Quite unconscious of his brother's curious embarrassment, Peter sat on
+the corner of the desk. "I've had it out with myself to-night," he said,
+going, as he always did, straight to the point. "I've made up my mind to
+make father into a father from now onwards. I can't stand this detached
+business any longer. Let's both wait for him and have it out."
+
+"What d'you mean?" asked Graham. "I don't get you." He put his hand out
+surreptitiously and scrunched up one of the sheets of note paper on
+which he had been writing.
+
+"Listen!" said Peter, with intense earnestness. "I've got to know
+things. So have you. I've got to have advice. I've got to be treated as
+a human being. What's the good of our having a father at all if we don't
+get something from him? I don't mean money and a roof, clothes and
+things to eat. I mean help. I'm in a hole about Betty. I want to talk
+about my work--about my future. Graham, let's give father a chance. Many
+times he seems to me to have fumbled and been on the point of asking us
+to meet him half-way. Well, I'm going to do so. Stay here and let's both
+see it through. Have the pluck to tell him about your trouble and throw
+the whole responsibility on him. It's his and he ought to have it. Wait
+a second. Listen! If Ranken Townsend had been your father you never
+would have gone near Papowsky. You wouldn't have come within a thousand
+miles of Ita Strabosck--that's a certainty."
+
+Graham got up quickly, but kept his hand heavily on the blotting-pad.
+"No," he said almost hysterically. "Count me out. I'm not in this. It's
+no good our trying to alter father at this time of day--it's too late.
+He's microbe mad. He knows nothing whatever about sons and daughters. I
+could no more tell him about the mess I'm in than fly over the moon.
+He'd turn and curse me--that's all he'd do. He'd get up and preach, or
+something. He doesn't understand anything about life. I'd a jolly sight
+rather go to mother, only I know it would hurt her so, and anyway my
+story isn't fit for her ears. No; cut me out, I tell you. I'm not in
+this."
+
+Peter got up and put his hands strongly on his brother's shoulders. He
+didn't notice then how near he was to a breakdown. "Graham, old man,
+you've _got_ to be--you've just _got_ to be. What Kenyon said is true.
+You and I are blind and are damned children wandering about--stumbling
+about. We need--we absolutely need a father more than ever we did in our
+lives. So do Belle and Ethel. We all think that we can go alone, and we
+can't. I know I'm right--I just know it--so you've got to stay."
+
+A puff of wind came through the open window. Several pieces of paper
+fluttered off the desk and fell softly on the floor. Peter stooped and
+picked them up. On them the words "Hunter G. Guthrie" had been written
+over and over again.
+
+He laughed as he looked at them. "What on earth has father been writing
+his name all over these sheets for? How funny! What a strange old chap
+he seems to be. It's a sort of undergraduate trick, this,--practising a
+signature before writing a first cheque."
+
+"Give 'em to me!" said Graham sharply, and he tried to snatch them away.
+His voice was hoarse and his hand shook.
+
+Peter looked at him in great surprise. It was impossible for him not to
+be aware of the fact that something was dreadfully wrong. As he stood
+and looked into his brother's guilty face the fact which stood out most
+clearly was that Graham had himself been writing his father's signature
+all over those sheets of paper. Why? A man did a thing of that sort for
+one reason only.
+
+He seized Graham's hand which was pressed on the blotting-pad, jerked it
+up, pushed the blotting-pad aside and picked up the cheque-book that
+laid beneath it.
+
+"Don't touch that," cried Graham, "for God's sake! Let me have it! I'll
+tear out the cheque. I think I was mad. Oh, God! I'm so worried I didn't
+know what I was doing!"
+
+There was a struggle, quick and sharp, and in an instant Graham found
+himself staggering across the room backwards.
+
+With his heart standing still, Peter opened the thin, narrow,
+brown-covered book. A cheque for three thousand dollars had been made
+out to Graham Guthrie. The signature had been forged.
+
+"You've done this," he said. "You've actually--"
+
+Graham was up on his feet. His lips were trembling. He put out a shaking
+hand. "My God!" he whispered. "Father's in the library."
+
+The sound of the Doctor's thin, clear voice came through the half-open
+door. Frozen with fear, Graham seemed to be unable to move. His very
+lips had lost their colour.
+
+With an overwhelming anxiety to hide his brother's frightful fall from
+honesty and sanity, Peter pounced on the little book, thrust it into
+Graham's pocket, snatched up the give-away slips of paper, tore them
+into small pieces and threw them in the basket.
+
+"Don't give me away. Don't let him know. If you do, I swear to God
+you'll never see me again!"
+
+There was still something to be done, and Peter did it. He took his
+brother up in his arms, realizing that he was, in a way, paralyzed,
+carried him to a chair that was out of the ring of light and sat him
+down. "Get yourself in hand, quick," he whispered. "Quick, now!"
+
+And Graham, strengthened by his brother's vitality, forced himself into
+some sort of control.
+
+Striding to the fireplace, Peter stood there waiting for his father,
+with a strange pain going through his body. He felt just as though he
+had been told that Graham, his best pal and dear brother, had had an
+appalling accident and might not live.
+
+The Doctor's voice, as he gave directions to a servant, came nearer and
+nearer.
+
+
+VI
+
+With his hand on the handle of the door, the Doctor paused. "I want you
+to call me to-morrow at half-past-seven, Alfred. Don't forget. I have a
+busy day. Good-night."
+
+The two boys watched him come into the room. His head was high and there
+was a little smile round his usually straight mouth. He walked with a
+sort of sprightliness, as though moving to music. He looked
+extraordinarily young and exhilarated.
+
+He saw what was to him a most unusual sight in that quiet, lonely
+work-room. He was surprised into an exclamation of great pleasure, and
+he quickened his pace until he stood between his sons. Graham got up and
+put on a nervous, polite smile. "This's what I most wanted," said the
+Doctor,--"my two boys waiting for me here in this room. I can't tell
+you--I can't tell you, Peter, and Graham, how often, how strongly, how
+eagerly I've wished to see you where you are now. I can't tell you how
+I've longed to have you here after my meetings, to tell you how I'm
+getting on, moving things forward, and to ask you share in my successes.
+My dear Peter--my dear Graham."
+
+It was pitiful. The strange, almost incoherent outbreak of the shy man
+nearly made Peter burst into tears. He would almost rather his father
+had treated them coldly and with raised eyebrows. His present
+attitude--his unhidden joy--his eager, and even wistful welcome, had in
+it something of tragedy, because it showed all the waste of years during
+which the sympathy and the complete, necessary and beautiful
+understanding of these three might have been welded into one great,
+insurmountable rock.
+
+The Doctor, with an obvious desire to play host,--an intuition which
+again touched Peter deeply,--went quickly to a little chest which stood
+in a corner of the room. "What will you have?" he asked anxiously. "I've
+got a very good cigar here, or cigarettes if you would like them better.
+Let me see! What do you smoke, Peter?"
+
+"He doesn't even know what I smoke," thought Peter. "A pipe," he said.
+
+"Oh, yes, yes! Well, this is generally said to be a very good mixture.
+Try some." He gave a jar of tobacco to Peter. "These are nice, though
+perhaps they are a little too dry." And he extended a box of cigars to
+Graham.
+
+The boy helped himself, trying to keep his hand steady. "Thank you," he
+said.
+
+"And now," said the Doctor, "let's sit down and have a long yarn. Shall
+we? I would like to tell you about to-night. The meeting was of vital
+interest and importance." He drew his chair forward so that it might be
+between those of the two boys. He looked from Peter's face to Graham's
+as though afraid that he was asking too great a favour. "You--you'll
+forgive my talking about myself, I'm sure--at least I hope you will. I
+so seldom have the opportunity,--with those I love, I mean--with those
+for whom I'm working. To see you here like this, at last, makes me very
+happy." He slipped his large glasses off and wiped them openly without
+attempting to hide the fact that they had become suddenly useless to
+him.
+
+A short silence followed--a silence in which the emotion with which the
+room was charged could almost be heard. Peter threw a quick glance round
+it, almost as though he expected to see the curious experimental tubes
+turn and point accusingly at his brother. The laboratory was filled with
+such tubes and other curious instruments,--all of them silent witnesses
+of Graham's act of madness.
+
+The Doctor re-lit his cigar, put his glasses on again and clasped his
+long, capable hands over one thin knee. "I wish I could even suggest to
+you," he said--more naturally and with keen enthusiasm--"the intense
+excitement that we bacteriologists are all beginning to feel. For years
+and years we've been experimenting, and little by little our work is
+coming to a definite head. Every time we meet we find that we've moved a
+step further on the road to discoveries. It makes me laugh to think that
+my early theories, which, only a few years ago, were scoffed at and
+looked upon as dreams, are taking shape. It's been a long, uphill fight.
+Science is beginning to win. It's all very wonderful." He noticed that
+Graham's cigar had gone out. With extreme politeness, such as a man
+would use to very welcome guests, he held out a box of matches.
+
+The boy took it. "I don't feel like smoking," he said, with a catch in
+his voice.
+
+Something in his tone made the Doctor peer closely at him. "You look
+pale, my dear lad," he said, "pale and tired. Aren't you well?"
+
+"Oh, yes; he's perfectly all right," said Peter hurriedly, trying to
+steer his father to another subject.
+
+Graham threw his cigar away. "I'm not!" he cried, with a sudden,
+uncontrollable outburst. "I feel as rotten as I am. I can't sit here and
+listen to you, father. Don't be kind to me, I can't stand it." He put
+his head down between his hands and burst out crying like a boy.
+
+The Doctor was startled. He got up quickly and stood hesitatingly. He
+wanted to put his hands on the boy's shoulders, but the sudden breakdown
+brought back his shyness. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Peter, do you
+know?"
+
+Peter nodded. He then made up his mind to let things take their course.
+"Let him tell you," he said. "This may be the turning point for all
+three of us."
+
+Graham drew the cheque-book out of his pocket, opened it and threw it on
+the desk under the reading lamp. "Look!" he said. "That's what I've come
+to."
+
+For some moments the Doctor saw nothing but a cheque drawn by himself in
+favor of his second son for three thousand dollars. The fact that he
+didn't remember having made it out, and the fact that it was for so
+large a sum made at first no impression upon him. He was so puzzled and
+so taken back at the sudden outburst of emotion which had broken up what
+he hoped was going to be a charming reunion that the sight of this
+cheque conveyed nothing to him. Both his sons watched him closely, not
+knowing what he would say or do. He was such a stranger to them--his
+feelings and characteristics were so unknown to them that they found
+themselves speculating as to the manner in which he would take this
+dreadful piece of dishonesty. A great surprise was in store for them.
+
+When the Doctor realized what had been done,--that the signature on the
+cheque was not his own, although it was very cleverly copied,--they saw
+him wince and shut his eyes. After a moment of peculiar hesitation he
+drew his chair up to the desk and sat down. Holding his breath, Peter
+watched him tear the cheque out and quietly make out another for
+precisely the same amount. Then the Doctor got up and stood in front of
+Graham with the new cheque in his hand. All the sprightliness and
+exhilaration with which he had entered the room had left him. He looked
+old and thin and humble. His shoulders stooped a little and the cheque
+trembled in his hand.
+
+"Am I such an ogre that my children are afraid to bring their troubles
+to me?" he said, in a broken voice. "What have I ever done to deserve
+this, Graham? You'd only to come to me and say that you needed money and
+I'd have given it to you. Who am I working for? For whom have I always
+worked?" He held out the cheque. "Take it, and if that isn't enough ask
+me for more. I'd like to know why it is that you need it, if you'll be
+good enough to tell me; but, for God's sake, don't hurt me like this
+again."
+
+Without a word--without, indeed, being able to find a word,--infinitely
+more crushed by this kindness than he would have been by an outburst of
+anger and reproach,--Graham took the cheque, turned on his heel and left
+the room, walking like a drunken man.
+
+Peter watched him go. There was a feeling of great relief in his heart.
+Nothing that he could have done or said--nothing that Kenyon could have
+said in his most forcible manner, with all the weight of sophistication
+behind it, could have pulled Graham up and set him on a new path so well
+as the unexpected generosity of his father and the few pathetic words
+with which he underlined it.
+
+But when Peter turned round to his father with the intention of taking
+him, for the first time, into his confidence and treating him as he
+would have treated Ranken Townsend under the same circumstances, he saw
+that the Doctor was crumpled up in his chair with his hands over his
+face and his shoulders shaking with sobs, and so he held his peace; and
+instead of obtaining the help that he needed so much he put his strong
+arm round his father in a strange protective way, as though he were the
+stronger man.
+
+"Oh, don't, father," he said. "Please don't."
+
+
+VII
+
+There was a good reason why Kenyon didn't stay out his fortnight at Dr.
+Guthrie's house. He had already begun to know several young men whose
+very good feathers were waiting to be plucked. It was obviously
+impossible for him to invite them to East Fifty-second Street, and it
+became necessary, therefore, that he should take a bachelor-apartment in
+which to set up business. There he could play cards until any hour that
+suited him and settle down seriously to make his winter in New York a
+success. Also, he confessed to himself, the atmosphere of the Doctor's
+house was not conducive to his peace of mind or to his rigidly selfish
+way of life. He hadn't come over to the United States in order to play
+the fairy godmother, or even the family adviser to the young Guthries.
+He had worked hard to clear the one thing out of Graham's life which had
+rendered him useless, and he had had the satisfaction of seeing Peter's
+engagement broken, for which admirable accident he was profoundly
+grateful, because Peter also would now be free. In fact, these two
+brothers could now easily be brought to concentrate upon Kenyon's
+deserving case and take round to his apartment any friends of theirs who
+enjoyed gambling and could pay when they lost.
+
+Kenyon possessed a neat and tidy brain. It was run on the same principle
+as a well-organized business office. It had its metaphorical card
+indexes, letter-files and such like; so that when he made up his mind
+to go into his own quarters he gave the matter the closest and most
+careful consideration. He paid several visits to the well-known bachelor
+apartment-houses in and around West Forty-fourth Street. They would have
+been very suitable but for the existence of irksome rules and
+regulations as to ladies. He went further afield and, with Graham's
+assistance, examined several apartments in private houses. What he
+wanted was a place somewhere on the map where his breakfast would be
+cooked especially for him at any hour he desired, and which would be
+free of elevator boys, clerks, and the watchful eye of a manager.
+Finally he discovered exactly such a place on the second floor of a
+fairly large old-fashioned house in West Forty-eighth Street. In this
+the elderly lady who, as Kenyon at once saw, was blessed with the
+faculty of being able to look at things with a Nelsonian eye,--having,
+poor soul, to earn her living,--lived in the basement with her parrot
+and her Manx cat. Two young business men shared rooms on the first floor
+and a retired professor--who spent the greater part of his time in the
+country--rented the third floor. The servants slept in the attic.
+
+Into this house Kenyon moved,--much against the wishes of all the
+Guthries, especially Belle,--the day after Peter's attempt to get in
+touch with his father came to such an utter failure. He was very well
+pleased with his quarters. They gave him elbow-room and freedom from the
+responsibility of looking after another man's sons. The sitting-room,
+arched in the middle, ran from the front to the back of the house and
+it was well and discreetly furnished. There was a particularly nice old
+Colonial mirror over the mantel-piece, and what prints there were
+hanging on the walls were very pleasant. The bedroom across the passage
+would have been equally large had it not been broken up to provide a
+bath-room and a slip-room for baggage.
+
+Fate, however, with its characteristic impishness, interfered with
+Kenyon's well-laid scheme. At the very hour when he was arranging his
+personal photographs a cable addressed to him was delivered at Dr.
+Guthrie's house. It so happened that Peter was in the hall when the
+servant took it in, and he started off at once to take it round to his
+friend. He was glad enough to seize any excuse to see Kenyon again. He
+felt horribly at a loose end. Graham's affairs had completely upset him
+and disarranged his plans. He was longing to see Betty, but was not
+going back on his agreement with Ranken Townsend until such time as he
+could make the artist eat his words; and, as to his father and his
+endeavor to break down that apparently insurmountable barrier, he was
+utterly disheartened and depressed. He was shown into Kenyon's rooms at
+the moment when he was standing in front of a very charming photograph
+of Baby Lennox which he had placed on the sideboard. It showed her in a
+little simple frock, with a wide-brimmed garden hat, standing among her
+roses with a smile on her face. She looked very young, pretty and
+flower-like.
+
+"Hello, Peter!"
+
+"I've brought this cable round. Otherwise I wouldn't have rushed in on
+you quite so soon."
+
+"My dear old boy," said Kenyon, "you know very well that you have the
+complete run of whatever place I may be living in, at all hours of the
+day and night. A cable for me, eh? What the devil--? I was jolly careful
+to give my address here to very few people in England. Too many are
+anxious to serve me with summonses. Baby Lennox is going to be married,
+perhaps, and sends me the glad tidings. By Jove, I wonder who she's
+nabbed!" He shot out a laugh and tore open the envelope. "Oh, my God!"
+
+"What is it?" asked Peter, anxiously.
+
+Kenyon held out the cablegram and remained standing rigid, with his
+mouth open and his eyes shut, and his face as white as a stone.
+
+It was from Baby Lennox. "Your father died last night. A heart attack.
+Come home at once."
+
+"Oh, my dear Nick!" said Peter. "My dear old boy! I can't tell you
+how----"
+
+"No," said Kenyon; "don't say anything. Just sit down and wait for me.
+Whatever you do, don't go." And he went out of the room and across the
+passage to his bedroom, and shut himself in.
+
+Peter waited. The few cold, definite and even brutal words contained in
+the cablegram would have hit him much harder and rendered his sympathy
+for his friend very much more real if he could have felt what it would
+have been to him to hear of the death of his own father. While he
+waited, mechanically holding that slip of paper between his fingers, his
+respect for his friend's grief widened into an odd and powerful feeling
+of envy. The man who was dead had been infinitely more than a father. He
+had been a friend and a brother as well. It made him sick and cold to
+feel that the receipt of such a cablegram bringing to him the news of
+the death of his own father would have moved him only to extreme
+sympathy for his mother. He was ashamed and humiliated to realize that
+no actual grief would touch him, because his father was nothing more
+than a sort of kind but illusive guardian or a good-natured
+step-father--altogether unused to children--who effaced himself as much
+as he could and threw all responsibility upon his wife.
+
+It was an hour before Kenyon reappeared, and during that time--which
+seemed to Peter no more than a few minutes--he went over again in his
+mind the scene which had taken place in the Doctor's laboratory, out of
+which he had gone stultified and thrown back upon himself. He was as
+grateful as Graham had been for the Doctor's generosity, but appalled at
+the thought that he had utterly failed to realize not only the gravity
+of Graham's act, but the long years of parental neglect which made such
+an act possible. It seemed to him that the way in which his father had
+taken that deplorable incident was all wrong. He should not have written
+another cheque. He should have had Graham up in front of him, strongly
+and firmly, and tried him as a judge would have tried him if his act had
+been discovered and dealt with by law. He should have gone into all the
+circumstances which led up to the forgery and thereby have cleared the
+way for a new understanding. As it was, his acceptance of it was so
+weak that it gave Peter and Graham a feeling almost of contempt for that
+too kind man to whom children were obviously without significance, and
+the unmistakable knowledge that he was unable to understand his grave
+responsibility and the fact that he, alone among men, must take the
+blame for all their misdeeds and mistakes, because they had been allowed
+to enter life unwarned, unguided and unhelped. The outcome to Peter of
+this hour's bitter thought was finally this: That if news were brought
+to him at that moment of his father's death the only sorrow that he
+could feel would be at the fact that he felt no sorrow.
+
+When Kenyon came back into the room it was with his usual
+imperturbability. He might merely have left it to answer the telephone
+or interview the man who had come to collect his clothes to be ironed.
+But his eyes were red. In his own peculiar way he had loved his father
+and admired him. It was the first time that he had wept since he had
+been a child.
+
+"Thanks, so much, for waiting, old boy," he said. "I hope you've been
+smoking, or something."
+
+"No," said Peter; "I have things to think about too."
+
+Kenyon looked about, with a queer little smile. "I was just settling
+down," he said. "Very decent room, this, isn't it? Well, well, there it
+is. You never know your luck, eh?"
+
+"When will you sail, Nick?"
+
+"The first possible boat. Do you know anything about the sailings? Ah,
+this paper will have it. I detest the sea and its everlasting monotony
+and blandness, and the dull-bright propinquity that it forces upon one."
+He opened the paper and searched among its endless columns for the
+Shipping News. "Here we are. 'Trans-Atlantic Sailings.' I have a wide
+choice, I see. There's a White Star and a Cunarder leaving to-morrow at
+twelve-thirty. The _Olympic_, I see! That's good enough,--if she's not
+full up. I'll see to it this afternoon. There's sure to be a cabin
+somewhere at this time of year."
+
+"I shall miss you badly," said Peter.
+
+"Thanks, old man. I know you will. And I shall hate going. Well, well!"
+
+Peter picked up a book and put it down again; opened and shut a box of
+cigarettes and pushed a bowl of flowers nearer the middle of the table.
+"Do you want any--I mean, can I----?"
+
+Kenyon laid his hand on his friend's square shoulder. "Not this time,
+Peter, old son. Thanks, awfully. I've had one or two good nights and my
+pockets are full of dollars. They'll see me home with perfect comfort.
+Well, here ends my visit to the United States. To-morrow night I shall
+have left the hospitable Statue of Liberty behind me. But she'll see me
+again. I'll dash round in the morning and thank your people for their
+extreme kindness to me. You'll see me off, won't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Peter; "of course."
+
+"Of course. We won't dine to-night. I--I don't feel like it."
+
+"I understand, old man," said Peter.
+
+"So long, then."
+
+"So long," said Peter.
+
+"The Earl is dead!" said Kenyon, with a sudden break in his voice. "Long
+live the Earl!" And he raised his hand above his head.
+
+
+VIII
+
+Not for the first time in his comparatively short life, Nicholas Kenyon
+was able to put to the test his often boasted power of self-control. It
+was his creed to accept everything that might happen to him, whether
+good or bad, with equanimity. It was part of his training to allow
+nothing to interfere with the routine of his day and the particular
+scheme that he had worked out for himself. He was, however, utterly
+unprepared for his father's death. Only the day before he had received a
+very cheerful and amusing letter from the Earl of Shropshire which had
+provided him with many quiet chuckles. When the blow came in that sudden
+fashion it knocked him down and for an hour reduced him to the level of
+an ordinary human being--of a man who had not specialized in
+individualism and who did not set the earth revolving round himself as
+its hub. Shut up in his bedroom he gave way to his real and best
+emotions, the genuineness of which surprised him. He was a master
+egotist--a superindividualist--the very acme of selfishness. Therefore,
+odd as it may seem, he was somewhat ashamed of his deep feeling, because
+it proved to him that one of the links of his carefully forged chain of
+philosophy was weak. He defined the word philosopher as one who is
+profoundly versed in the science of looking after himself.
+
+As soon as Peter had left Kenyon's rooms, the new Earl of Shropshire
+took himself in hand and "carried on" as they do in the Navy after
+casualties, accidents and the issue of new orders. He continued to
+arrange his photographs round the room. He considered that he might as
+well make himself completely comfortable until the time came for him to
+pack up again and leave the country. He called up Belle on the telephone
+and had a little talk with her. He told her of his father's death and of
+the fact that he would have to sail within the next twenty-four hours.
+He listened with satisfaction to her cry of anguish, and arranged with
+her to come to see him that evening. It appeared that she was engaged to
+dine with some friends and go with them to hear Alfred Noyes read his
+poems at the AEolian Hall. He insisted upon her keeping her engagement
+and begged that she would come round to his rooms alone at eleven
+o'clock.
+
+He didn't intend to leave the United States, even under such
+circumstances, without adding Belle to his little list of conquests. The
+cold-bloodedness of such an intention was peculiarly characteristic of
+the man. "No weakness," he said to himself--"no weakness. No matter what
+happens, what had happened, is happening or may happen, you must carry
+on. You've built up a creed, stick to it." And then, very
+quietly--having changed his tie to a black one--he went forth to
+discover the offices of the White Star Steamship Company,--having
+obtained the proper directions from his landlady. He took the subway to
+the Battery, interviewed a clerk of Number One Broadway, had the good
+fortune to find that there was a state-room vacant on the boat deck of
+the _Olympic_; wrote his cheque for it; pocketed a bundle of labels;
+paid Graham a brief visit in his office on Wall Street and walked all
+the way home again, endeavoring to count the German names all along the
+most amazing street in the world, and giving up his temporary hobby in
+despair. On the way home he sent off a cable to Baby Lennox, giving her
+the name of the ship on which he was to sail. By this time he was tired
+and a little dazed at the amazing stir and bustle of Broadway, with its
+never-ceasing lines of cable-cars and its whir and rush of human
+traffic. He was glad of a cup of tea, and presently arranged himself for
+a quiet nap on the sofa in his sitting-room.
+
+Later, with his mind concentrated solely on Belle's impending visit and
+what he intended to achieve, he dined alone at the Ritz, dropped in to
+see a turn or two at the Palace, and strolled back to Forty-eighth
+Street at half-past-ten. As he went into the house he heard the landlady
+talking to the two young business men who lived on the first floor. She
+was asking them to be good enough not to play the piano that evening, as
+the Professor had come back from the country and was very unwell. She
+had sent for the doctor, and he would be more comfortable if the house
+were as silent as it could be made.
+
+Knowing that Belle would be punctual that night, of all nights, he went
+down just before eleven o'clock and waited for her at the front door. It
+was his intention to get her into the house unobserved, more for his own
+sake than for hers. The night was clear, but half a gale was blowing,
+carrying before it all the dust of the city and sending odd pieces of
+paper swirling into the air and making the hanging signs outside shops
+and small restaurants creak and groan. In its strong, vibrating song
+there was a note of wild passion that fitted exquisitely into Kenyon's
+frame of mind.
+
+Belle drove up in a taxicab a few minutes after eleven. "Not a word
+until we get upstairs," said Kenyon, as he helped her out. And then when
+she stood in his sitting-room, with all her emotions in a state of
+upheaval, nothing was said for many minutes. He took her in his arms and
+kissed her, delighting in her young beauty and freshness with all the
+appreciation of a connoisseur.
+
+There seemed to Belle to be no indiscretion in this visit. Was she not
+engaged to be married to this man?
+
+As a matter of fact, she was not. Kenyon had been playing with her; and
+now that he had succeeded to his father's title he had even less
+intention of dealing seriously by her than ever before. Marriage was not
+in his thoughts or plans. The title was his and the old house that went
+with it, but he was no better off than he had been as Nicholas Kenyon,
+the Oxford undergraduate. On the contrary he now had responsibilities of
+which he had hitherto been free and he must look out for some one who
+could buy his name for a substantial sum. If Belle had read into his
+vague and indefinite remarks a proposal of marriage it only showed that
+she possessed a very lively imagination. He was not going at that point
+to undeceive her. He was merely going to take from her everything that
+she was gracious enough to give. His trip to New York had provided him
+with very little in actual substance. He was determined that it should
+not be altogether empty, and that Belle should furnish him with a
+charming memento.
+
+He broke into Belle's preliminary remarks of conventional condolence by
+saying, "Thank you; but please don't say a word about my father. Let's
+talk about ourselves. We're alive. The next few hours are our property.
+Let's make them memorable. Let's give each other something that we can
+never forget." And he took her cloak and led her to a chair as though
+she were a queen, and stood looking at her with very greedy eyes.
+
+But Belle's temperament was Latin. Ever since Kenyon had spoken to her
+over the telephone she had been unable to control her feelings. She
+loved this man overwhelmingly. She had given him all her heart, which
+had never been touched before. To her it seemed amazingly cruel that
+fate had come along with its usual lack of sympathy and circumspection
+and put a sudden end to all the delightful hours to which she had been
+looking forward. The death of a man whom she didn't know meant very
+little to her. She was young, and to the young what is death but a vague
+mystery, an inconvenient accident which seems to affect every one but
+themselves? Indeed, she rather resented the fact that Kenyon's father,
+in dying, was to take so suddenly out of her life the one human being
+about whom her entire happiness revolved.
+
+"Oh, Nicholas, Nicholas! Must you go? Must you leave me? Let me go with
+you. I have the right. I shall be miserable and unhappy without you."
+And she clung to him with all the unreasonableness of a child.
+
+Kenyon was not in the least touched by this appeal--only extremely
+pleased, because it showed him that Belle was in the right mood to be
+won. He put his hand on her round, white shoulder. "You must be brave,"
+he said. "I know how you feel, but you must help me. Don't make things
+more difficult than they are. I may be able to come back quite
+soon,--who can tell?"
+
+"I believe you're glad to go!" cried Belle.
+
+Kenyon drew back. He wanted to make her feel that she had hurt him. He
+succeeded.
+
+In an instant, full of self-reproach, Belle was on her feet and in his
+arms again. "What am I going to do without you? I almost wish you'd
+never come into my life. I've been looking forward to your being here
+the whole winter. How am I going to get through the days alone?"
+
+A motor-car drew up at the house. Neither of them heard Dr. Guthrie's
+voice giving a quick order to the chauffeur or recognized his step as he
+passed upstairs on the way to see his friend, the Professor, on the
+floor above, to whom he had been called by the landlady.
+
+Presently, having turned out all the lights except a shaded lamp on the
+table, Kenyon began to let himself go. He threw aside his characteristic
+calmness and became the lover--the passionate, adoring man who was about
+to be separated, under tragic circumstances, from the girl who was
+equally in love. He threw aside his first intention of finessing Belle
+into his bedroom on the plea of asking her to help him to pack. He
+remembered that the old man above was ill and that the landlady and
+others would be passing to and fro. This was distinctly annoying. He
+was, however, a past-master in the art that he was at present pursuing
+and set the whole of his mind on his opportunity. Belle was, naturally
+enough, as putty in his hands and her despair at losing him made her
+weak and pliable.
+
+He sat down on the sofa and held Belle in his arms and kissed her again
+and again. "I love you! I love you! I don't know--I can't think what I
+shall be like without you," he said, bringing all his elaborate cunning
+to play upon her feelings. "More like a man who's lost his arms than
+anything; and we were to have come nearer and nearer this winter,
+finding out all the best of each other and all the joy that it is to
+love wholly and completely."
+
+"Oh, don't go, don't go!" cried Belle, making a pathetic and almost
+child-like refrain of the words, "I love you so! I love you so!"
+
+Kenyon bent down with her until her head was pillowed on the cushions,
+and kissed her lips and eyes. "You must love me, sweetheart, you must.
+It's the only thing that I can turn to and count on now. Go on loving
+me every minute that I'm away. I shall need it,--and before I go let me
+have the precious proof of your love to store up in my heart. Give me
+the priceless gift that is the only thing to keep me living till I come
+back."
+
+"Nicholas, Nicholas!" she whispered, with her young breasts heaving
+against him. "I love you so! I love you so!"
+
+The moment of his triumph had almost been reached when the Doctor, on
+his way down, saw something glistening in the passage outside Kenyon's
+sitting-room. He stooped and picked it up. He was puzzled to see that it
+was a little brooch that he had given to Belle on one of her birthdays.
+Her initials had been worked on it in diamonds. For several moments he
+held it in his hand, wondering how it could have been dropped in that
+place. He was utterly unaware of the fact that Kenyon lived in the house
+which he knew to be given up to bachelors. Then the blood rushed into
+his head. Almost for the first time in his life the Doctor acted on the
+spur of the moment. He was filled with a sudden sense of fear before
+which his inherent shyness and hesitancy were swept completely away. He
+tried to open the door. It was locked. He hammered upon it, shouting:
+"Let me in! Let me in!"
+
+Kenyon, cursing inwardly, sprang up from the sofa. "It's your father,"
+he said. "Go and sit by the table, quick, and pretend to be arranging
+these photographs." He could have ignored that knocking, but the result
+would be that the Doctor would go down to the landlady and there would
+be a scandal. How in the name of thunder did he know that Belle was in
+the room? He dashed over to the mantel-piece, collected a handful of his
+pictures and threw them on the table in front of Belle, who, with a
+touch of panic, tried to smooth her hair. Then he went to the door and
+opened it.
+
+"Good evening, Doctor," he said quietly. "This is very kind of you.
+Belle is here helping me to pack, and Peter should have been here, but I
+expect something has detained him. Do come in." He saw the brooch in the
+Doctor's hand and cursed Belle's carelessness.
+
+As Dr. Guthrie entered the room the blood slowly left his head. A
+feeling of intense relief pervaded him. He saw Belle sitting at the
+table with the utmost composure putting one photograph on top of
+another. At his side stood the man who had recently been his honored
+guest and who was the best friend of his eldest son,--the man of whose
+sad loss he had heard that afternoon from his wife. He thanked God that
+everything was well and hastened to accept Kenyon's suggestion that he
+had come there for the purpose of saying good-bye to him. It saved him
+from the appearance of having lost his head and made a fool of himself.
+"I--I'm indeed grieved to hear of your father's death, my dear Mr.
+Kenyon," he said, stammering a little. "I was called to see an old
+friend of mine who lives in this house, who isn't at all well, and I
+thought I'd take the opportunity on my way down----"
+
+"I'm deeply obliged to you," said Kenyon, giving the weak, nervous man
+before him the credit of having seized the hint so quickly. "It helps me
+very much to have so many good friends. I sail to-morrow at two-thirty.
+This is a good opportunity for me to thank you very much for your
+delightful hospitality. Will you wait for Peter?"
+
+"No; I think not, thanks," said the Doctor. "It's getting late and, as
+you say, Peter has in all probability been detained. Belle, dear, I
+think you'd better come with me, now."
+
+Kenyon was still quite placid and courteous and undaunted. "Oh, but
+mayn't she stay until Peter turns up?"
+
+"I think not," replied the Doctor, astonished at his own firmness. "It's
+very late."
+
+"Curse it! Curse it!" cried Kenyon, inwardly. But with a little smile he
+went over to Belle and gave her his hand. "You've helped me a lot," he
+said. "I can easily finish packing now. Good night and good-bye."
+
+Choking back her sobs and full of resentment at her father's clumsiness
+and interference, Belle rose and allowed Kenyon to help her into her
+cloak.
+
+By a strange accident she, like Graham, had been saved from a disaster
+which might have followed her into the future. God's hand must have been
+stretched out to help that man, who, by his unconscious neglect, had
+made it possible for these two children of his to stand on the brink of
+irreparable misfortune.
+
+Kenyon, keeping up a quiet flow of conventional remarks, followed them
+down-stairs and out into the street. He could have drawn Belle back into
+the hall while the Doctor went out to the car, and kissed her once
+again. But,--it was over, what was the use. He watched her fling herself
+into the motor-car and sit all hunched up with her hands over her face,
+and then he took the Doctor's hand and shook it warmly. All the angels
+in Heaven must have shuddered as he did so, and cried, "Judas! Judas!"
+
+"Good-bye again, then," said the Doctor. "I'm deeply sorry for the
+reason that takes you away from us. I hope we may see you again soon."
+
+"I hope so, too," said Kenyon.
+
+Standing in that quiet street he watched the automobile drive away, and
+cursed. His mind was filled with impotent rage. He felt as he did when
+he was a child and some one had hurt him. He wanted to find the thing
+which that some one treasured most and break it all to pieces, and stamp
+on it. Then he returned to his rooms, switched on all the lights, and
+with a gesture almost animalish in its baffled passion, swept all the
+photographs from the table.
+
+He was kicking them savagely, one after another, when he heard the
+whistle which he and Peter had used at Oxford to attract each other's
+attention. He ran to the window and opened it. There stood Peter with a
+glint of moonlight on his great square shoulders.
+
+"Come up!" said Kenyon. "By God, my luck's come back! Now I can make
+that old fool pay for ruining my evening!"
+
+
+IX
+
+With a fiendish scheme in the back of his head and with a most
+unpleasant smile on his face, Kenyon went over to the sideboard. He
+brought out two glasses. In one he mixed a whiskey high-ball and in the
+other he poured a concoction of neat whiskey and brandy, adding
+everything else that his bottles contained,--a mixture calculated to
+dull the senses even of the most hardened drinker. Then he waited--still
+with this unpleasant smile upon his face.
+
+When Peter came in he looked tired and pale. His boots were covered with
+dust and there were beads of perspiration on his forehead. "I saw that
+you were up," he said, "so I whistled. If you hadn't called out I should
+have gone home. Hope you don't mind."
+
+"Mind!" cried Kenyon. "I never was so glad to see anybody in my life.
+You look like a tramp. Where've you been?"
+
+Peter threw his hat on the sofa and sat down heavily. "I wasn't in the
+mood to go home to dinner. I've been walking hard ever since I saw you.
+God knows where I've been. At one time I stood under the apartment-house
+in Gramercy Park. It's a wonder I didn't go up and have it out again
+with Ranken Townsend. But it wouldn't have been any use."
+
+"Not the smallest," said Kenyon. "You'd only have given him the
+satisfaction of standing on his hind-legs and preaching to you. Will you
+have something to eat?"
+
+Peter shook his head.
+
+"Well, then, have a drink." And he put the poison in front of Peter. "I
+was going to drink to myself,--a rather dull proceeding alone. Now you
+can join me. On your feet, Peter, old man, and with no heel-taps, I give
+you 'the new Peer! The most decorative member of England's
+aristocracy,--Nicholas Augustus Fitzhugh Kenyon, Eighth Earl of
+Shropshire, master of Thrapstone-Wynyates--the man without a shilling!'
+Let it go!"
+
+Peter stood up, clinked his friend's glass with his own, emptied it and
+set it down. "Good Lord!" he said, with a frightful grimace. "What in
+thunder was that?"
+
+Kenyon burst into a derisive laugh. "'Some drink,' as you say over here.
+Away goes your water-wagon, Master Peter. Off you come from your self
+made pedestal. Drunk and incapable will be the words that will presently
+be very fitly applied to you, my immaculate friend." And he laughed
+again, as though it were a great joke. It would do him good to see Peter
+"human," as he called it, for once, to satisfy his sense of revenge--to
+pay out Dr. Guthrie for his cursed interference.
+
+Peter was glad to get back to his chair. "I don't care what happens to
+me," he said. "What does it matter? I've got nothing to live for--a
+father who doesn't care a damn what becomes of me, and a girl who's
+given me up without a struggle."
+
+He had had nothing to eat since the middle of the day. He was mentally
+and physically weary. Although he was unaware of the fact, he had
+caught a severe chill. It was not surprising that the horrible
+concoction which Kenyon had deliberately mixed went straight to his
+head.
+
+Everything vile lying at the bottom of Kenyon's nature had been stirred
+up. At that moment he cared nothing for his friend's repeated
+generosity, his consistent loyalty and his golden friendship. With a
+sort of diabolical desire to amuse himself and see humiliated in front
+of him the man who had stuck to his principles so grimly, he filled his
+glass again, to make certainty doubly certain. "This time," he cried,
+"I'll give you another toast. Come on, now. On your feet again, and
+drink to 'that most charming family, the Guthries, and in particular to
+the eldest son--to the dear, good boy who has run straight and never
+been drunk, and has treated women with such noble chivalry. In a word,
+to Peter, the virgin man.'" He raised his glass, and so did Peter. This
+time the stuff almost choked him and he set his glass down only half
+empty. But he put on a brave front and sat up straight, laughing a
+little. "Nice rooms, these," he said. "Large and airy. Bit nicer than
+our first rooms at Oxford, eh?" How different this hideous poison made
+him look. Already he was like a fine building blurred by mist.
+
+"It's extraordinary what you dry heroes can do when you try," said
+Kenyon. "All I hope is that you'll come face to face with your fond
+parent presently when you fumble your way into your beautiful home." He
+bent down and picked up his photographs and went on talking as though to
+himself. "Yes, there's some satisfaction in making others pay. I've
+tried it before, and know. I remember that plebeian little hunx at
+Oxford who was going into the Church. His name was Jones,--or something
+of the sort. I think he was a damned Welshman. He once called me a 'card
+sharp.' I didn't forget it. The first night he turned up in his Parson's
+clothes I doped him and he woke up next morning in the gutter. I loved
+it. Now, then, Peter, give me a hand with these things and bring them
+across the passage to my bedroom." He pointed to some books and left the
+room with his photographs.
+
+Peter got up unsteadily and rocked to and fro. He picked up the books as
+he was directed and staggered after his friend. He lurched into the
+bedroom and stood in the doorway, supporting himself. "I'm--I'm drunk,"
+he said, thickly. "Hopelessly drunk. Wha--what the devil have you done
+to me?"
+
+Kenyon burst out laughing. Many times he had threatened to do this for
+his friend, whose attitude of consistent healthiness and simplicity had
+always irritated him. He delighted at that moment in seeing Peter all
+befogged and helpless and as wholly unable to look after himself as
+though he were a baby.
+
+"Now you'd better go," he said sharply. He was tired with the episode.
+"I'm sick of the Guthries! Go home and cling to your bed while it chases
+round the room. I'll have mercy on you however to this extent. I'll put
+you in a taxi. There's sure to be one outside the hotel down the street.
+Come on, you hulking ex-Oxford man. Lean on me. Rather a paradox, isn't
+it? Hitherto I've always leaned on you." He got his visitor's hat and
+jammed it on his head, all cock-eyed. And then, still talking and
+jibeing and sneering, he led the uncertain Peter down-stairs.
+
+There were two taxicabs drawn up outside the hotel to which Kenyon had
+referred. He shouted and waved his hand. A chauffeur mounted his box,
+manoeuvred the car around and drove up, glad to get a fare.
+
+As he did so, a night butterfly flitted past, on her way home. She had
+had apparently an unsuccessful evening, for she stopped at the sight of
+these two men. Her rather pretty, thin, painted face wore an eager,
+anxious look. "Hello, dearie!" she said, and touched Kenyon on the arm.
+
+"By Jove!" said Kenyon to himself. "By Jove!"
+
+He was struck with a new inspiration. He had made his friend drunk.
+Good! Now he would send him off with a woman of the streets. That would
+complete his evening's work in the most artistic fashion, and render
+Peter human at last. And who could tell? It might hit the Doctor fair
+and square,--"the tactless, witless, provincial fool."
+
+"Wait a second," he said to the girl, and with the able assistance of
+the driver put the almost inanimate and poisoned Peter into the cab.
+Then he turned. The night bird was eyeing him with a curious
+wistfulness. She was too smartly dressed and the white tops of her high
+boots gleamed sarcastically. "Well, dearie?"
+
+"There's a customer for you," said Kenyon, jerking his finger towards
+the cab. "Take him home. He has money in his pocket. Help yourself."
+
+The girl gave the driver her address--which was somewhere in the
+Sixties--and then, with a little chuckle, jumped in and drew the door to
+behind her with a bang that echoed through the sleeping street.
+
+The cab drove away, and Kenyon's laugh went after it.
+
+He was revenged.
+
+
+X
+
+But for the chauffeur, a burly and obliging Irishman, Nellie Pope's
+unwilling and unconscious customer would never have reached her rooms.
+They were on the top floor of a brown-stone house which had no elevator.
+The struggle to earn his own daily bread made the chauffeur sympathetic.
+So he got Peter over his shoulder, as though he were a huge sack, and
+carried him step by step up the narrow, ill-lit, echoing staircase. On
+the top landing he waited, breathing hard, while the girl opened the
+door with her latch-key.
+
+"Where'll I put him?"
+
+"Bring 'im into the bedroom," said the girl. "I'm sure I'm obliged to
+you for the trouble you've taken, mister. You'll 'ave a glass of beer
+before you go down, won't you?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+He lumped Peter on to the bed with an exclamation of relief. It groaned
+beneath his dead weight. Mopping his brow and running his fingers
+through a shock of thick, dry hair, the Irishman looked down at the
+great body of his own customer's evening catch. "I guess I've seen a
+good many drunks before," he said, "but this feller's fairly paralyzed.
+It's a barrel he must have had, or perhaps he's shot himself with one of
+them needle things. Anyway, he's a fine-looking chap."
+
+Nellie Pope, who had heard these remarks as she was pouring out a bottle
+of beer,--it was one of those apartments in which every sound carries
+from room to room and in which when you are seated in the kitchen it is
+possible to hear a person cleaning his teeth in the bathroom,--went in
+and stood at the elbow of the chauffeur. Switching on a light over the
+bed she peered into Peter's face. Her own lost most of its prettiness
+under the glare. There were hollows and sharpnesses here and there, the
+roots of the hair round her temples were darker than the too-bright gold
+of the rest of it. There was, however, something kind, and even a little
+sweet about her English cockney face and shrewd eyes. "Yes 'e's a fine
+looking chap, isn't 'e,--a bit of a giant, too, and looks like a
+gentleman. Poor boy, I wonder what that feller did to 'im!" She put her
+hand on Peter's head and drew it back quickly. "'E's got a fever, I
+should think. It looks as if I should 'ave to play nurse to-night. Oh, I
+beg pardon, mister, 'ere's your beer."
+
+The Irishman took the glass, held it up against the light, made a
+curious Kaffir-like click with his tongue and threw back his head. "I
+guess that went down fine," said he. "One dollar and ten cents from
+you, Miss, and I'll make no charge for extras." He held out a great
+horny hand.
+
+Nellie Pope opened her imitation gold bag. "Bin out o' luck lately," she
+said. "Don't know whether I've got--No, I 'aven't. Oh, I know!" With a
+little laugh she bent over Peter again and hunted him over for some
+money. Finding a small leather case she opened it. It contained a wad of
+bills. With a rather comical air of haughty unconcern she handed the
+chauffeur two dollars. "Keep the change," she said.
+
+He laughed, pocketed the money, handed back the glass and went off,
+shutting the door behind him.
+
+Miss Pope, who had a tidy mind as well as an economical nature, took the
+glass into the kitchen and finished the bottle herself. And then,
+without removing her hat and gloves she sat down and counted the money
+that was contained in the case. "One hundred and twenty-five dollars,"
+she said. "Some little hevening!"
+
+She put the case into her bag, where it lay among a handkerchief,
+steeped in a too-pungent scent, a small, round box of powder, a stick of
+lip salve, and a few promiscuous dimes. Then she took off her hat--a
+curious net-like thing round which was wound two bright feathers--her
+coat and her gloves. The latter she blew out tenderly, almost with
+deference. They were white kid. All these she put very carefully on a
+scrupulously clean dresser. Singing a little song she arranged a meal
+for herself on the table,--having first laid a cloth. Bread, butter and
+sardines made their appearance, with the remains of a chocolate cake
+which had been greatly to the taste of her last night's customer, who
+had not been, however, a very generous person. Extremely hungry, she sat
+down and, with the knowledge that her purse was full, laid on the butter
+with a more careless hand than usual. While she ate she enjoyed the
+bright dialogue of Robert Chambers in a magazine which, having first
+broken its back in order to keep it open, she propped up against a bowl.
+Half way through the meal, she jumped up suddenly. "'Ere!" she said.
+"You can't leave that poor boy like that, you careless cat, and 'im
+lying with a fever!" She went swiftly into the bedroom, and once more
+stood looking down at the inert form of poor old Peter. Then she laughed
+at the difficulty of taking off his clothes, and with a shrug of her
+shoulders started pluckily at his boots. She hung the coat and waistcoat
+over the back of one of the chairs,--there were only two,--and having
+folded the trousers with great care, returned to her supper. It was
+after two o'clock when finally she crept quietly into bed.
+
+
+XI
+
+A little over twenty-four years before, Nellie Pope had been born to two
+honest, hard-working country folk. They lived in a village of about two
+dozen cottages a stone's throw from the great cross cut by the Romans on
+the chalky side of Chiltern Hills, in England. Her parents' quiver had
+already been a full one and there was indeed very little room in it for
+the new arrival. Eight other boys and girls had preceded her with a
+rapidity which must have surprised nature herself, bounteous as she is.
+The father, a deep-chested, brown-bearded, very ignorant, but
+good-natured man, worked all the year round on a farm. His wages were
+fourteen shillings a week. The wife, who had been a domestic servant,
+added to the family pot by taking in washing and, if able, helping at
+the big house when guests were there. Neither of them had ever been
+farther away from their native village than the town which lay in the
+saucer of the valley, the steeple of whose church could be seen glinting
+in the sun away below.
+
+Little Nellai, as she was called, was thrown on her own resources from
+the moment that she could crawl out of the narrow kitchen door into the
+patch of garden where potatoes grew and eager chickens played the
+scavenger for odd morsels of food. Her eldest sister was her real
+mother, and it was she who daily led her little brood of dirty-faced
+children out into the beech forest which stood in strange silence behind
+the cottage. The monotonous years slipped by one after another,
+enlivened only by a death or a birth or a fight, or a very occasional
+jaunt to the town in one of the farm wagons, perched up on a load of hay
+or wedged in between sacks of potatoes. Little Nellai's pretty face and
+fair hair very soon made her a pet of the lady at the big house, and it
+was from this kind, but mistaken person, from whom she obtained the
+seeds of discontent which at the early age of sixteen sent her into the
+town as a "help" in the kitchen of a man who kept a garage. It was from
+this place, on the main road to London, that Nellie Pope saw life for
+the first time and became aware of the fact that the world was a larger
+place than the little village perched up so near the sky, and caught the
+fever of discovery from the white dust that was left behind by the cars
+which sped to London one way, and to Oxford the other.
+
+During this first year among shops and country louts, Nellie became
+aware of the fact that her pretty face and fair hair were very valuable
+assets. They procured her candies and many other little presents. They
+enabled her to make a choice among the young men with whom to walk out.
+They won smiles and pleasant words not only from the chauffeurs of the
+cars which came into her master's garage to be attended to, but also
+from their owners. Eventually it was one of these--more unscrupulous
+than most--who, staying for a few days at the "Red Lion," carried Nellie
+away with him to London, after several surreptitious meetings in the
+shady lane at the back of the churchyard. There it was that she saw life
+with very naked eyes, passed quickly from one so-called protector to
+another, was taken to the United States by one of a troupe of gymnasts,
+and then deserted. For two years she had been numbered among the night
+birds who flit out after dark--a member of the oldest profession in the
+world. There were, however, no moments in her life--hard, terrible and
+sordid as it was--when she looked back with anything like regret at
+those heavily thatched cottages which stood among their little gardens
+on the side of the hills. She could put up with the fatigue, brutality
+and uncertainty, the gross actuality of her present life, with courage,
+cheerfulness and even optimism, but the mere thought of the deadly
+monotony of that peaceful village, where summer followed winter with
+inexorable routine, made her shudder. The first pretty frock which had
+been given her by the lady of the big house had begun the work. The
+candies and the little presents from the country louts had completed it;
+and here she was, still very young, with a heart still kind and with a
+nature not yet warped and brutalized,--a danger to any community in
+which she lived, the deliberate spreader of something so frightful that
+science and civilization stood abashed in her presence.
+
+Vanity has much to answer for, and out of nature spring many plants
+whose tempting berries are filled with poison.
+
+It was in the bed of this wretched little woman that the unconscious
+Peter slept that night.
+
+It was ten o'clock in the morning when the weary girl faced another day.
+She didn't grumble at the fact that she had been frequently disturbed
+and had watched many of the hours go by while she attended to Peter with
+something of the spirit of a Magdalen. She kept repeating to herself:
+"Poor boy! Poor boy! I wonder what his mother would say if she saw him
+like this."
+
+She bathed his head, listened with astonishment to his babbling, and
+tried to piece together his incoherent pleading with Ranken Townsend and
+his declarations to Betty of his everlasting love. She listened with
+acute interest to the broken sentences which showed her that this great
+big man-boy was endeavoring to stir up his father to do something which
+seemed to him to be urgent and vital, and she wondered who Graham was,
+and Nicholas.
+
+The first thing that she did when she was dressed and had put the kettle
+on her gas stove to boil, was to hunt through Peter's pockets to find
+out who he was. It was obvious to her that he was not so much a customer
+as a patient. She was a little afraid of accepting the whole
+responsibility of his case. The only letter she found was one signed
+"Graham," headed with the address of an office in Wall Street. In the
+corner of it was printed a telephone number. Graham, it was plain to
+her, was a Christian name. She could find no suggestion of the surname
+of the writer or of the man who lay so heavily in the next room.
+
+"I dunno," she said to herself. "Something has got to be done. That
+boy's in a bad way. 'E's as 'ot as a pancake and I shouldn't think 'e's
+used to drink by the way 'e takes it. Suppose hanything should 'appen to
+'im 'ere. I should look funny. What 'ad I better do?"
+
+What she did was to have breakfast. During this hasty meal she thought
+things over--all her hard-won practicality at work in her brain. Then
+she put on her befeathered hat and her white gloves, a second-best pair
+of shoes, and went out and along the street, and into the nearest drug
+store. Here she entered the telephone booth and asked for the number
+that was printed on Graham's note. By that time it was just after nine
+o'clock. Having complied with the sharp request to slip the necessary
+nickel into the slot, an impatient voice recited the name of the firm.
+"I want to speak to Mr. Graham," she said. "No such name--? Well, keep
+your 'air on, Mister. I may be a client--a millionaire's wife--for all
+you know. I'm asking for Mr. Graham and as 'e's a friend of mine, and
+probably your boss, I'm not bothering about his surname. You know that
+as well as I do--Do I mean Mr. Graham Guthrie? Well, yes. Who else
+should I mean?" She gave a chuckle of triumph. "All right! I'll 'old
+on."
+
+In a moment or two there was another voice on the telephone. "How d'you
+do?" she said. "I'm holding a letter signed by you, to 'Dear
+Peter,'--Ah! I thought that would make you jump--It doesn't matter what
+my name is. What's that--? Yes, I _do_ know where he is. I've been
+looking after 'im all night. Come up to my place right away and I'll be
+there to meet you. Dear Peter is far from well." She gave her address,
+and feeling immensely relieved left the box. But before she left the
+store she treated herself to a large box of talcum powder and a
+medium-sized bottle of her favorite scent, paying the bill with Peter's
+money. She considered herself to be fully justified.
+
+On the way home she dropped into a delicatessen shop and bought some
+sausages, a bottle of pickles, a queer German salad of raw herring
+chopped up with carrots and onions, and carried these away with her. On
+her way up-stairs--the bald, hard stairs--she was greeted by a
+half-dressed person whose hair was in curl-papers and who had opened her
+door to pick up a daily paper which lay outside. "Hello, Miss Pope!
+Anything doing?" "Yes," said Nellie Pope, "the market's improving," and
+she laughed and went on.
+
+Peter was still lying inert when she bent over him once more. She felt
+his head again, put the covers about his shoulders, pulled the blind
+more closely over the window, and after having put the food away
+returned to make up her face. She wasn't going to be caught looking what
+she called "second-rate" by this Mr. Graham Guthrie when he came.
+
+There being no need to practice rigid economy at that moment, she gave
+herself a glass of beer and sat down to pass the time with her magazine,
+in which life was regarded through very rosy spectacles.
+
+When finally she opened the door, in response to a loud and insistent
+ring, her answer to Graham's abrupt question: "Is my brother _here_?"
+was "Yes; why shouldn't he be?" She didn't like the tone. The word
+"here" was underlined in an unnecessarily unpleasant manner.
+
+
+XII
+
+"What's my brother doing here?" asked Graham.
+
+"What d'you s'pose? Better go and ask 'im yourself."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"In bed, if you must know." The girl answered sharply. She found her
+caller supercilious. She followed him into the bedroom, telling herself
+that this was a nice way to be treated for all the trouble that she had
+taken.
+
+Graham bent over the bed. "Good God!" he said. "What's the matter with
+him?"
+
+"Drink!" said the girl drily.
+
+"Drink! He never drinks."
+
+"Then 'e must 'ave fallen off the water-wagon into a barrel of alcohol
+and opened 'is mouth too wide. Also 'e's got a fever."
+
+Graham turned on the girl. "How did he get here?"
+
+"In a cab. You don't s'pose I carried 'im, d'you?"
+
+"Where'd you find him?"
+
+"I didn't find 'im. Some one gave 'im to me as a present--a nice
+present, I must say."
+
+"Don't lie to me!" cried Graham. "And don't be impudent."
+
+"Impudent!" cried Nellie Pope, shrilly. "Here, you'd better watch what
+you're saying. I don't stand any cheek, I don't, neither from you nor
+anybody else, and I'm not in the habit of lying. I tell you I was made a
+present of 'im. I was told to take 'im 'ome by a young fellow on
+Forty-eighth Street, who 'ad called up a cab."
+
+"Forty-eighth Street,--are you sure?"
+
+"Well, if I don't know the streets, who does? The young fellow was a
+gent. He didn't talk, he gave orders. He was tall and slight and he 'ad
+kinky hair. Quite a nut. English, he was, any one could tell that."
+
+"Good God!" thought Graham--"Kenyon." He sat down on the bed as though
+he had received a blow in the middle of his back. Only an hour before he
+had telephoned to Kenyon to say good-bye and wish him a pleasant
+crossing, and all that he said about Peter was that they had seen each
+other the night before. "No doubt he's all right," he had said, in
+answer to Graham's anxious question. What did it all mean? What foul
+thing had Kenyon done?
+
+Graham had been up all night waiting for his brother. He had good news
+for him. He had pulled himself together and gone to see Ranken Townsend
+during the time that Peter had been walking the streets. To the artist
+he had made a clean breast of everything, so that he might, once for
+all, set Peter right in the eyes of his future father-in-law. That was
+the least that he could do. He had carried away from the studio in his
+pocket a short, generous and impulsive letter from the artist, asking
+Peter's forgiveness for not having accepted his word of honor. Armed
+with this, Graham had waited while hour after hour slipped by, growing
+more and more anxious as Peter did not appear. At breakfast he told his
+mother--in case she should discover that Peter had not returned--that he
+had stayed the night in Kenyon's rooms, as they had much to talk about
+and one or two things to arrange. He had been in the house when Kenyon
+had rung up, apologizing for being unable to come round, and thanking
+Mrs. Guthrie for her kindness and hospitality.
+
+And there lay Peter inanimate and stupefied. In the name of all that was
+horrible, what had happened? Graham got up and faced the girl again.
+"You mustn't mind my being abrupt and rude," he said. "I'm awfully
+sorry. But this is my brother, my best pal, and I've been terribly
+anxious about him, and you don't know--nobody knows--what it means to me
+to see him like this."
+
+"Ah! Now you're talking," said Nellie Pope. "Treat me nicely and there's
+nothing I won't do for you. If you ask me--and if I don't know a bit
+more about life than you do I ought to--I have a shrewd idea that your
+brother was made drunk,--that is, _doped_. 'E was quite gone when 'e was
+put into the cab, and from the way that kinky-headed chap laughed as we
+drove off together,--I mean me and your brother,--I should think that 'e
+'ad it in for him, but of course I don't know hanything about that.
+Perhaps you do."
+
+Graham shook his head. "No," he said; "I don't know anything about it
+either. But what are we going to do with him, that's the point? He's
+ill, that's obvious, and a doctor ought to see him at once."
+
+"That's what I think," said the girl, "and I don't think 'e ought to be
+moved, 'e's so frightfully 'ot. 'E might catch pneumonia, or something.
+What I think you'd better do is to call up a doctor at once, get him to
+give your brother a dose and give me directions as to what to do. 'E
+can stay 'ere until 'e's all right again, and I'll nurse 'im."
+
+"Yes, but why should you----?"
+
+"Oh, bless you, that's all right. I'm glad to have something to do. Time
+hangs heavy. Besides, the poor boy is just like a baby. I like 'im and
+you needn't be afraid that I shall try to get anything out of 'im,
+because I shan't."
+
+Graham snatched eagerly at the proffered assistance. He was intensely
+grateful. "Have you a telephone here?" he asked.
+
+Nellie Pope laughed. "What d'you take me for?" she said. "I'm not a
+chorus lady. When I want to use the 'phone I pop round to the drug store
+and have a nickel's worth. That's how I got on to you."
+
+Graham caught up his hat and left the apartment quickly. One of his
+college friends was a doctor and had just started to practice. He would
+ask him to come and see Peter. He agreed with the girl that it would be
+running a great risk to move Peter, and he was all against taking him
+home in his present condition. It would only lead to more lies and would
+certainly throw his mother into a dreadful state of anxiety.
+
+While he was gone, Nellie Pope set to work to tidy up the bedroom. She
+put her boots away in a closet, got out a clean bedspread, rubbed the
+powder off her mirror and arranged her dressing-table. This doctor,
+whoever he was, should find her apartment as tidy as she could make it.
+It was a matter of pride with her. She still had some of that left. One
+thing, however, she was determined about. The doctor must not be
+allowed to look too closely at her.
+
+
+XIII
+
+Graham came out of the telephone box in the drug store. Dr. Harding was
+unable, he said, to leave his office for an hour and a half, when he
+would drive to Nellie Pope's address and meet Graham in her apartment.
+
+But as he was hurrying back to Peter's bedside, Graham drew up suddenly.
+The rage that had entered into his soul when he had gathered that Kenyon
+was responsible for his brother's condition broke into a blaze. Almost
+before he knew what he was doing or what he was going to do when he got
+there, he hailed a passing taxi and told the man to drive to Kenyon's
+apartment. He remembered that the liner was not due to leave until
+two-thirty. Kenyon would therefore be at home for some time yet. He told
+himself that he _must_ see him--he must. He owed it to Peter first, and
+then to himself as Peter's brother and pal, to make Kenyon answer for
+this dirty and disloyal trick. Yes, that was it, he told himself as the
+cab bowled quickly to its destination. Kenyon must be made to answer,
+or, at any rate, to offer some extenuating explanation if he could. It
+would be something that would make him wake up in the middle of the
+night and curse himself if he let the opportunity slip out of his hands
+to face Kenyon up before he went immaculately, unquestioned and perhaps
+unpunished out of their lives. How could he face Peter when he was well
+again? How could he look at his own reflection in the looking-glass if,
+for reasons of his personal admiration of Kenyon and disinclination to
+force things to an issue, he let him escape without finding out the
+truth?
+
+The cab stopped. Graham sprang out, paid the man, ran up the flight of
+stone steps and rang the bell. None too quickly it was answered by a
+girl with a mass of black hair and a pair of Irish eyes which had been
+put in with a dirty finger.
+
+"Is Mr. Kenyon in?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The hall was filled with baggage. A very distinct "K" was on all the
+baggage tabs.
+
+"All right!" said Graham. "I know my way up."
+
+Rather sharply Kenyon called out "Come in!" when Graham knocked on the
+door of the sitting-room.
+
+In a much-waisted suit of brown clothes, a brown tie and a pair of brown
+shoes which were so highly polished as to look almost hot, Kenyon was
+standing with the telephone receiver to his ear. He was saying
+"Good-bye" to one of the men to whom Graham had been proud to introduce
+him and whose pockets he had already lightened by a fairly considerable
+sum. He finished speaking before turning to see who had entered, and
+hung up the receiver.
+
+"Oh, hello, my dear fellow!" he said. "I didn't expect to see you. How
+extremely and peculiarly pleasant!"
+
+Graham wondered if he would think so by the time that he had done with
+him. But, with a strong effort of will, he kept his self-control. He
+intended to let Kenyon give himself away. That seemed to be the best
+plan.
+
+Kenyon gave him no chance to speak. "Not satisfied with wishing me 'bon
+voyage' over the wire, eh? By Jove, this is most friendly of you. You'll
+help kill the boring time before I drive off to the docks with all my
+duly and laboriously labelled luggage. Make yourself at home, old boy,
+and give me your news."
+
+He took his hat and stick and yellow gloves out of the one comfortable
+chair and waved his hand toward it.
+
+Graham remained standing. Having seen Peter lying in such a bed, inert
+and humiliated,--Peter, of all men,--he resented Kenyon's suave
+cordiality and glib complacency. "I've just come from Peter," he said.
+
+Kenyon burst out laughing. "Oh, do tell me! How does he look? Is his
+head as big as the dome of St. Paul's this morning? It ought to be. I
+gave him the sort of mixture that would blow most men skyhigh. It's
+never been known to fail."
+
+"It hasn't?" said Graham. "So you _did_ give it to him!" he added
+inwardly. "Good! You'll pay for _that_."
+
+"I was amazed to see the thirsty way our abstemious Peter lapped it
+down. I've a sneaking notion that he liked it. It was on an empty
+stomach, too. He seems to have been in an emotional mood
+yesterday--tramping the streets. Ye gods, how these sentimentalists go
+to pieces under the influence of a bit of a girl! He came up here fairly
+late, just after Belle--I mean, just after----"
+
+"Belle? Was Belle here last night, then?" Graham's voice rang out
+sharply.
+
+"Yes," said Kenyon, with a curious smile. After all, what did it matter
+now who knew? He was on the verge of sailing and he hoped that he might
+never see this family of Guthries again. "Yes, Belle was here."
+
+There was a look in the corners of Kenyon's eyes that sent a spasm of
+fear all through Graham's body. What was this man not capable of doing
+since he had deliberately turned Peter, his friend, over to a
+street-walker, having first rendered him senseless? "Then I'm here for
+Belle, as well," he said to himself, "and whatever you did you'll pay
+for that too."
+
+There was an empty cardboard collar-box on the floor. Kenyon gave it a
+spiteful kick. "Yes, Belle and I had,--what shall I call it?--a rather
+tender parting scene here last night,--quite tender, in fact. All very
+amusing in the sum total of things, eh? I was peculiarly ready for Peter
+when he dropped in. And, by the way, how on earth did you find out where
+he spent the night, learning, I trust, to shake off some of his Quaker
+notions?"
+
+"She rang me up," said Graham, whose fists were clenched so tightly
+that every finger contained a pulse. He was almost ready to hit--almost.
+He was only waiting for one other proof of this dirty dog's treachery.
+
+"Oh, did she? Found your name and address in Peter's pocket, I suppose.
+Well, she came along last night at the exact psychological moment. The
+alacrity with which she took dear old drunken Peter off my hands at the
+merest hint had a certain amount of pathos about it. _He's_ off his
+immaculate perch now, eh? _He's_ left his tuppenny halo on a pretty
+sordid hat-peg, at last, eh? He'll thank me for having done it for him
+one of these days, I'll be bound."
+
+Graham went slowly over to him. "Not one of these days," he said with
+extreme distinctness. "Through me, thank God, to-day--now."
+
+Kenyon darted a quick look at the man who had always caused him a
+considerable amount of inward laughter, whom he had labelled as a
+precocious provincial. He saw that his face had gone as white as a
+stone--that his nostrils were all distended and that his eyes seemed to
+have become bloodshot. No coward, Kenyon had an inherent detestation of
+a fracas, especially when he was dressed for the street. He decided to
+avert a row with a touch of autocratic authority. It had worked before.
+
+"Let there be no vulgar display of pugilism here," he said, sharply. "If
+you don't like my methods, get out!"
+
+Everything in Graham's nature seemed to have become concentrated in one
+big ball of desire to hit and hit, and hit again--to hear the heavy
+thud of his blows on that man's body--to see him lying squirming and
+broken on the carpet with a receipt in full upon his face for all that
+he had done.
+
+"Put up your fist," he said, "or I shall have to hit you cold."
+
+"Curse you, get out!" cried Kenyon, catching Graham one on the mouth
+before he was ready.
+
+Graham laughed. He needed that. By jove, he needed that. He let out his
+left. "That's for Peter," he said.
+
+Kenyon staggered. His left eye seemed to fill. With a yell of pain he
+jumped in and hit wildly.
+
+Graham waited a second chance and got it. "And that's for Belle," he
+said. And his knuckles bled with the contact of teeth.
+
+Kenyon went in again. Chairs fell over and the table was pushed aside.
+And all the time that he failed to reach Graham's face he screamed like
+a horse whose stable is in flames.
+
+But Graham, cold, icy cold, and cooler than he had ever been in his
+life, played with him. He had never been so much a man in his life. He
+warded and guarded and waited hoping that he might once more feel the
+sting of pain that would make his last blow unforgettable--epoch-making.
+
+He got it,--but with Kenyon's foot.
+
+And again Graham laughed,--for joy--for very joy. Now he could hit, and
+hit honestly.
+
+"You little gentleman!" he said. "You perfect little gentleman--I've
+paid you for Peter, and for Belle. Here's my debt, with a hundred per
+cent, interest and then some."
+
+The blow, hard and firm from the full shoulder, caught Kenyon on the
+point of the jaw, lifted him off his feet and laid him out full stretch
+on the broad of his back.
+
+For several moments, breathing hard, Graham stood over him, looking down
+at the dishevelled, unconscious dandy, with his bad blood all over his
+face and clothes. His collar had sprung, his beautiful brown tie had
+gone round under his ear, his shirt cuffs were dabbled with red, one eye
+was bunged up and his mouth was all swollen.
+
+Then Graham rang the bell, and while waiting tidied himself up in front
+of the glass in which he now felt that he could look.
+
+The girl came in and gave a shrill cry.
+
+"Just see to that man, please. Cold water at once will be the best
+thing."
+
+He caught up his hat, went out, shut the door, ran down-stairs, let
+himself into the street and was out of sight and into a taxicab before
+the girl had recovered herself.
+
+"Paid in full," he said breathlessly to himself, as he bound up his
+knuckles--"in full."
+
+
+XIV
+
+With wide-eyed anxiety, Graham, having driven straight back, waited for
+the doctor's verdict. The two young men stood alone in the little
+sitting-room. With a touch of delicacy, which they were quick to notice,
+Nellie Pope made no attempt to follow them in.
+
+"Um!" said Dr. Harding. "A very close shave from pneumonia. He can't be
+moved yet, unless, of course, you'd like me to send for an ambulance.
+That's up to you."
+
+Graham shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't want that. I think he'd
+better be--I mean I don't want my father--Oh, well, I dare say you
+understand."
+
+"Yes," said Dr. Harding, "I'm afraid I do. God knows what the percentage
+of disaster is from men having soused themselves like that. It seems to
+me that your brother, who had obviously caught a severe chill, must have
+set out deliberately to make himself drunk, and mixed everything in
+sight."
+
+Graham held his peace. But his blood tingled at the knowledge that he
+had given Kenyon something that he would never forget and which would
+make it necessary for him to remain in the seclusion of his state-room
+for some days at least.
+
+The young doctor sat down and wrote a prescription and went on quickly
+to tell Graham what to do. Finally he rose. "I'll look in again this
+evening," he said. "You'll be here, won't you? Of course we shall get
+him all right in a couple of days or so,--that is, right enough to go
+home,--but----"
+
+"But what?" asked Graham.
+
+"Well," said Dr. Harding, "I may have to leave the rest of the treatment
+to your father." He shook his head several times on his way to the
+door. He had taken one or two close, examining looks of Nellie Pope.
+
+"Mr. Guthrie, you're wanted."
+
+Graham turned sharply. Nellie Pope, waiting until the doctor had gone,
+put her head in at the door. "Come on in," she said. "Come on in!"
+
+Graham followed her into the bedroom and bent over Peter. Opening his
+eyes with some difficulty, as though they hurt him, Peter looked about.
+The room was strange. The face of the girl was strange. The whole thing
+seemed to belong to a dream. Then he recognized his brother. "You got
+away, then," he said.
+
+"Got away?"
+
+"Yes. By Jove, what a blaze! The last time I saw you, you were carrying
+mother along the passage. I could hardly see you for smoke. I got Betty
+out into the street and dived back into the house. Father was the only
+one left. Good God, what awful flames! The library was red hot. I got
+into the middle of it, choking and yelling for father, when something
+fell on my head. Is he--dead?"
+
+"No," said Graham. "He's all right."
+
+A little smile broke out on Peter's face and he sighed and turned over
+and went to sleep again.
+
+Nellie Pope made a comical grimace. "I don't wonder that 'e's been
+dreaming about a fire," she whispered. She arranged the covers over
+Peter's shoulder with a deft and sympathetic hand, and then took
+Graham's arm and led him out into the passage. "You've got your work.
+Push off. I'll see to the medicine when it comes. Don't you worry. Get
+back as soon as you can, and while you're away I'll look after 'im like
+a sister. I like 'im, poor boy! My goodness! why don't somebody put the
+lid on all the distilleries? Half the troubles in the world 'ud be
+prevented that way!"
+
+Very reluctantly Graham acted on the girl's suggestion that he should
+return to his office. He was in the middle of very important work. He
+held out his hand. "You're a damned good little sort," he said, "and I'm
+intensely grateful."
+
+Nellie Pope's eyes filled with tears. It had been a long time since she
+had been treated so humanly or had her hand so warmly clasped. But she
+screwed out a laugh and waved her hand to Graham as he let himself out.
+
+She spent the rest of the day in and out of the bedroom. With her eyes
+continually on her clock, she devoted herself untiringly and with the
+utmost efficiency to looking after her patient. To the very instant she
+gave him his medicine and said cheery, pleasant things to him every time
+she had to wake him up to administer it. It was an odd and wonderful day
+for her, as well as for Peter,--filled with many touches of curious
+comedy, the comedy of life--and many moments of queer pathos. Once she
+had to listen to a little outburst of incoherent love, when Peter
+insisted on telling her what an angel Betty was. Once she was obliged to
+hear what Peter had to say about his father, from which she gathered
+that this man was responsible for the burning house from which this boy
+had only just been able to escape alive, having saved his family. The
+obsession of fire remained with Peter until the evening, when he woke up
+with a clear brain, and having taken his medicine, looked at her with
+new eyes.
+
+"What's all this?" he asked quietly. "Where am I, and who are you?"
+
+"Oh, that's all right," said Nellie Pope.
+
+"Is it? Are you a nurse?"
+
+"Yes," she said.
+
+"Is this a hospital?"
+
+"Yes,--that is, a nursing home," she said.
+
+"Oh!" said Peter. "Where's Kenyon?"
+
+"I don't know, dearie."
+
+"What on earth was that filth that he gave me to drink? I carried the
+books into his room, and then I'm hanged if I can remember--I've got a
+most frightful headache. Every time I move my head seems to split in
+half. How long have I been here? Was I poisoned, or what?"
+
+"Now don't you talk or you'll get me into trouble. You go off to sleep
+like a good boy. You'll be all right in the morning."
+
+"Shall I? That's good." And he heaved a big sigh and obeyed. It was
+extraordinary how sleep came to his rescue.
+
+He was still asleep when Graham came back at six o'clock. Nellie Pope
+opened the door to him. "'E's getting on fine," she said. "You can take
+that line out of your forehead. 'E's been talking quite sensibly to me.
+What I don't know about your father and your family isn't worth
+knowing."
+
+Graham tiptoed into the bedroom, drew a chair up to the side of the bed
+and sat down. And while he waited for the time to arrive for Peter's
+next dose many strange things ran through his brain,--his own
+precocity--his own desire to be smart and become a man of the world--his
+own evening in the little shabby theatrical lodgings in Oxford with
+Kenyon--his dealings with Ita Strabosck--the night he had spent in his
+bed-room when Peter took his razors away--that awful hour when he
+sneaked into his father's laboratory and under the pressure of great
+trouble forged his name. The only thing that gave him any sense of
+pleasure out of all this was the fact that he carried in his pocket a
+warm and spontaneous letter from Ranken Townsend, which he knew would be
+better to Peter than pints of medicine.
+
+And while he sat watching, Nellie Pope ate her sausage in the kitchen
+and finished the instalment of the love story in her magazine.
+
+What a world, O my masters!
+
+
+XV
+
+It was late when Graham let himself into his father's house that night.
+He had done many things that day. He had also been through much anxiety.
+He felt that he deserved the right to turn in at once and sleep the
+sleep of the just. But Kenyon had said that Belle had been alone in his
+rooms the night before and the queer expression that had come into his
+eyes as he made the remark lived most uneasily in Graham's memory. He
+now knew Nicholas Kenyon to be a skunk--an unscrupulous individualist
+devoid of loyalty, incapable of feeling true friendship and in every way
+unfit to have any dealings, unwatched, with a girl unless she was in his
+own set or belonged to the same class as the two chorus girls for whom
+he had waited outside the stage door of the Oxford Theatre.
+
+He was well aware of the fact that Belle had been something more than
+merely attracted by Kenyon. He had even hoped that she might be engaged
+to be married to him, being very proud to believe that some day soon she
+might become the wife of the man under whose spell he, like all the rest
+of the family, had fallen. Now, however, in the light of Kenyon's
+hideous treatment of Peter, he saw his one-time hero with eyes from
+which all the glamour of his appearance had disappeared and he was
+filled with an overwhelming desire to see Belle at once and make it
+clear to her, bluntly and finally, that she must clear Kenyon out of her
+mind as a house is rid of vermin. Belle was, as he well knew, a
+high-spirited, amazingly imperious, independent girl, with strong
+emotions. She was not one who would be turned lightly, or even driven,
+out of a line of thought. She was, on the contrary, as difficult to
+treat as an unbroken filly and could only be managed with the lightest
+of hands. If she really and truly loved Kenyon and still believed in
+him, he knew that he could not say anything that would prejudice him in
+her estimation, even by telling her what he had done to Peter. She would
+be able to produce reasons, however far-fetched, to make that incident
+seem less ugly. There was, however, the chance--just the chance--that
+she would be open to conviction. After much inward argument and
+hesitation he decided to go up to Belle's room, and if she were not
+asleep, to have a little talk with her and find out how the land lay,
+and if he could see any possibility of adding to his punishment of
+Kenyon to do so by putting him in his true colour before Belle.
+
+It took him some time to come to this decision and screw up his courage
+to face Belle. For nearly an hour he paced up and down the quiet
+library, smoking cigarette after cigarette. Belle was likely to tell him
+to go and hang himself if she considered that he was butting into her
+private affairs. He knew this,--no one better. He had often done so
+before. He decided, however, to run this risk and, in the hope that she
+might still be up, went upstairs and stood for a moment listening
+outside her door. He could hear no sound in her room, no movement, no
+creak of a drawer being opened or shut. He knocked softly and
+waited,--was just going to knock again when the door was opened.
+
+With her beautiful black hair done for the night and a pink kimono over
+her night-dress, Belle stood in the doorway with an expression of
+surprised inquiry in her eyes. These two had not taken the trouble to be
+very good friends for some years.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Graham," she said, but made no move.
+
+"It's awfully late, I know; but, if you're not too tired, may I come
+in?" Graham hated himself for being self-conscious. It seemed absurd
+with his own sister. He wished then that he had not been quite so
+selfish and self-contained since he had considered himself to be a man,
+and had gone out of his way to keep up his old boyish relations with
+Belle.
+
+He was a little surprised when she said, "Come in, dear," and made way
+for him. He noticed quickly as soon as she stood under the light that
+her eyes were red and swollen, and that there was a most unusual air
+about her of gentleness and dejection. He noticed, too, with immense
+relief, that a large photograph of Kenyon in hunting-kit which he had
+seen standing on her dressing-table had been taken away. A good sign!
+
+The room was very different from Ethel's. It had nothing of that rather
+anaemic ultra-modern air so carefully cultivated by the younger girl. On
+the contrary, everything in it was characteristic of Belle. It was full
+of ripe colours and solid comfort. A mass of silver things jostled each
+other untidily on the dressing-table. A collection of monthly fashion
+papers with vivid decorative covers lay on a heap on a chair, and a
+novel, open in the middle, had been flung, face down, on the sofa. There
+was no attempt at carefully shaded lights. They were all turned on and
+were reflected from the long glasses in a large mahogany wardrobe. The
+carpet all round the dressing-table was bespattered with white powder.
+
+"I was reading when I heard your knock," she said,--"at least I was
+pretending to read. Sleep was miles away."
+
+Graham sat down, hanging a pair of stockings over the arm of the chair.
+"Why?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I don't know, I've been thinking,--for a change. It's such a new
+thing for me that it knocked sleep out of my head. Not nice thoughts,
+either."
+
+She seemed glad to talk, Graham thought. "Anything the matter, Bee?" he
+asked.
+
+"I guess it's nearly a century since you called me Bee," she said with a
+queer little laugh. "Would you say that anything was the matter if you
+had just picked yourself out of the ruins of a house that had fallen
+about your ears?"
+
+Graham got up suddenly, sat on the sofa at Belle's side and put his arms
+round her shoulder. "Don't dodge behind phrases, old girl," he said.
+"Just tell me in plain English. Let me help you if I can."
+
+But Belle shook him off,--not angry with him so much as with herself.
+She detested weakness. This unexpected kindness on Graham's part made
+her feel like crying again. In her heart she longed for some one to whom
+she could pour out her soul, and Graham's affection almost caught her
+before she could stop herself. Not to him, she told herself, nor to any
+member of her family, was she going to confess the sort of thoughts that
+had choked her brain ever since that hour alone with Kenyon. Not even to
+Betty, to whom she told most things, was she going to lay bare the fact
+that, in the cold light of day, she found herself deeply hurt and
+deeply humiliated at Kenyon's treatment of her. In fact, she had herself
+only that night begun to realize the state of her feelings and was still
+suffering under the discovery.
+
+Graham, whose nature and character were as much like those of Belle as
+though they were twins, caught her mental attitude as she stood
+struggling between pride and a desire to tell the truth. It was as plain
+to him as though she had already confessed that Kenyon had done
+something which had shaken her belief in him. His photograph, which had
+dominated her room, had been put away. Her eyes were red and swollen.
+All his sympathy was stirred. At the same time he rejoiced in the eager
+thought that he had it in his power to clear Kenyon finally out of her
+mind.
+
+He set to work quietly. "I'm going to tell you about Peter," he said.
+
+She turned quickly. "Peter? There's nothing wrong with Peter, is there?"
+
+"God knows how much wrong there is. I'm going to tell you all I know.
+We're all in this,--through Kenyon, and because we've been thoughtless
+fools running amuck through life."
+
+The idea of there being anything wrong with Peter brought Belle quickly
+out of self-analysis and the self-indulgence of her own pain. "Don't
+beat about the bush," she said. "Please tell me. You told mother this
+morning that he had stayed with Nicholas last night."
+
+"That was a lie. This is what happened. After a rotten day worrying
+about an upset with Betty, he went to see Kenyon late last night. He'd
+had nothing to eat. I believe because Kenyon had been disappointed about
+something earlier in the evening,--but I only make a guess at that from
+the way he looked when I saw him to-day,--he deliberately took it out on
+Peter."
+
+"On Peter? How?" Belle understood this disappointment only too well.
+
+"He made him drunk."
+
+"Drunk!--Peter!"
+
+"Dead drunk,--by doping him with a fearful mixture of all the drinks he
+had. He had always threatened to do it, and this time he caught Peter
+napping. That was a foul enough thing to do anyway, but it didn't
+satisfy him. He got him into the street and instead of putting him into
+a cab and sending him home he called a passing woman----"
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Belle.
+
+"Yes,--and gave Peter over to her and there he's been, in her bed, in a
+little hole of an apartment, ill and poisoned, ever since."
+
+"Oh, my God!" cried Belle.
+
+"The woman rang me up early this morning and I got Ralph Harding to go
+and see what he could do. I've been there most of the day,--except for
+ten minutes with Kenyon--the best ten minutes I ever put in--ever."
+
+He got up and stood looking at Belle with a gleam of such intense
+satisfaction in his eyes that she guessed what he had done.
+
+"That's our admirable friend Kenyon," he added. "That's the man who
+shared rooms with Peter--whose charm of manner got us all at Oxford, and
+who was made one of the family by father and mother when he came to this
+country. I hit him for Peter, for you and for myself in that glorious
+ten minutes to-day. I left him lying on the floor in his rooms all over
+his own black blood, and if ever I meet him again, in any part of the
+world, at any time of my life, I'll give him another dose of the same
+sort--for Peter, for you and for me--That's what I came to tell you,
+Bee."
+
+He bent forward and kissed her, turned round and left the room.
+
+That was Kenyon, Graham had said.
+
+Standing where he had left her, with this story of utter and incredible
+treachery in her ears, Belle added another count to Graham's
+indictment,--that of trying to seduce her without even the promise of
+marriage, when her grief at parting with him made her weak.
+
+For a moment she stood chilled and stunned. That was Kenyon--All along
+she had been fooled--all along he had been playing with her as though
+she amounted merely to a light creature with whom men passed the time.
+It was due to her father,--of all men, her father,--that she stood there
+that night, humiliated but unharmed, with her pride all slashed and
+bleeding, her self-respect at a discount, but with nothing on her
+conscience that would make her face the passing days with fear and
+horror.
+
+She suddenly flamed into action. "Yes; that's Kenyon!" she thought, and
+making a sort of blazing pounce on the middle drawer of her
+dressing-table she pulled it open, took out the large photograph of a
+man in hunting-kit, and with queer, choking cries of rage and scorn,
+tore it into shreds and stamped upon the pieces.
+
+
+XVI
+
+Belle got very little sleep that night. Having finally decided, on top
+of her talk with Graham, that Kenyon had intended to treat her much in
+the same way as he had treated Peter, she endeavored to look back
+honestly and squarely at the whole time during which that
+super-individualist had occupied her thoughts. She saw herself as a very
+foolish, naive girl, without balance, without reserve and without the
+necessary caution in her treatment of men which should come from proper
+training and proper advice.
+
+She laid no blame upon her mother,--that excellent little woman whose
+God-sent optimism made her believe that all her children were without
+flaw and that the world was full of people with good hearts and good
+intentions. She blamed only herself, and saw plainly enough that she had
+allowed her head to be turned by her father's sudden acquisition of
+wealth which made it unnecessary for her to be anything more than a sort
+of butterfly skimming lightly through life without any duties to
+perform--without any work to occupy her attention--without any hobbies
+to fill her mind and give her ambition. She felt like some one who had
+just escaped from being run over in the streets, or who, by some divine
+accident, had been turned back from the very edge of an abyss. It was
+indeed a night that she could never forget in all her life. She lay in
+bed in the dark room with her eyes wide open, hearing all the hours
+strike one by one, watching herself with a sort of terror and amazement
+passing through Oxford. All the incidents that had been crowded into
+that short and what had appeared to be glorious week, came up in front
+of her again, especially the incident in the back-water with Kenyon and
+the night of the ball at Wadham College. These were followed in her mind
+by the scene in the library in her father's house, and finally that
+dangerous hour in Kenyon's rooms when, but for the intervention of that
+man who seemed of so little account, she might have been placed among
+those unfortunate girls of whom the world talks very harshly and who pay
+a terrible price for their foolishness and ignorance. And when finally
+she got up, tired-eyed but saner than she had been since those good,
+strenuous days of hers at her college when she had intended to make art
+her mission in life, she told herself with a characteristic touch of
+humour that the reformed criminal was a very good hand at preaching, and
+made up her mind to go along to Ethel and improve the occasion. It was
+very obvious to her that if she did not do this nobody would, and she
+was eager to give a sort of proof of the fact that she was grateful for
+her own escape by giving her young sister the benefit of her suffering.
+And so she put on her dressing-gown and went to her sister's room--the
+little sister of whom she was so fond and proud.
+
+Ethel was sitting at her dressing-table doing her hair. There was a
+petulant and discontented expression on her face. Still shamming
+illness, she had not yet recovered from the smart of what she called
+Jack's impertinence. There was a surprise in store for her,--she who
+believed that she had managed so successfully to play the ostrich.
+
+"Why, Belle!" she said. "What's the matter? You look as though you had
+been in a railway accident."
+
+Belle sat down, not quite sure how she would begin or of the sort of
+reception that she would receive. She always felt rather uncouth in the
+presence of this calm, self-assured, highly finished little sister of
+hers. "Well," she said, "I have been through a sort of railway accident
+and a good many of my bones seem to have been broken,--that's why I'm
+here. I want to stop you, if I can, from going into the same train."
+
+"I don't think I quite understand you."
+
+"I don't suppose you do, my dear, but you shall--believe me." And then,
+in the plainest English she gave Ethel the story of her relations with
+Kenyon, without in any way sparing herself. And when she came to the
+parting scene in Kenyon's rooms she painted a picture that was so strong
+and vivid--so appalling in its proof of foolishness, that she made even
+Ethel forget her complacency and sit with large, frightened eyes.
+
+Then she got up and began to walk about. "I'm not a fool," she said,
+"and this thing is going to teach me something. Also, I'm not a coward
+and I've told you all this for a reason. You think that you're a very
+wise little person, kiddie, but in reality you're no better than I am,
+and just as sentimental and every bit as unwatched and as resentful of
+guidance. Why are you here instead of being at school? You think no one
+knows that. Well, I do. You're playing ducks and drakes with mother and
+father and your education in order to have what we call a 'good time.'
+You have shammed sickness so that you could have an adventure with the
+boy next door."
+
+"How d'you know that?" cried Ethel.
+
+"Easily enough, my dear. I was told by the girl who used to bring your
+thermos up to this room and who had caught you with the boy. Two days
+ago she left to be married, but before she went she blurted out the
+whole story. It wasn't for me to interfere then. I didn't much care, to
+tell the truth,--in fact, I thought it was rather a good joke. I rather
+admired you for the cunning way in which you had arranged everything. I
+thought you were a good sport. I don't know how far it has gone, but I
+hope to Heaven that you've not been quite so insane as I was. I'm not
+going to tell mother or do the elder sister stunt, or anything of that
+sort. I'm just going to ask you to chuck it all and go back to school
+and play the game for a change, and to try to bear in mind that you owe
+father and mother something,--a thing we all seem to have
+forgotten,--and when you do go back, just remember--and always
+remember--what I've told you about myself. We're very much alone, you
+and I,--like two girls who are staying in a house with somebody else's
+father and mother,--and so let's help each other and get a little
+honesty and self-respect and see things straight. What d'you say, dear
+little sister?"
+
+Ethel got up, and with a complete breakdown of all the artificiality so
+carefully instilled into her by her fashionable school, slipped into her
+sister's arms and burst out crying.
+
+
+XVII
+
+It was not until the next afternoon that Peter was allowed to get up.
+His superb constitution had stood, rock-like, against the chill which
+the doctor's medicine had helped to throw off. He had done full justice
+to a broiled chicken which Nellie Pope had cooked for him; but when,
+having put on his clothes, he stood in front of the looking-glass, he
+felt as though he had been under a steam-roller and flattened out.
+
+"Good Lord!" he said, when he saw his pale, unshaven face. "Good Lord!"
+But he was very happy. He had read and re-read Ranken Townsend's
+generous apology. Betty was waiting for him--thank God for that.
+
+And then he began to look round. Was this a nursing home? The
+dressing-table, with its tins of powder and a large dilapidated puff,
+its red stuff for lips, its shabby little brushes and a comb with
+several of its teeth gone, looked as though it belonged to a
+woman,--poor and struggling. The door of the closet, which gaped a
+little, showed dresses hanging and a pair of very high-heeled boots with
+white uppers. He opened a drawer in the dressing-table. It was full of
+soiled white gloves, several veils neatly rolled up, and a collection of
+small handkerchiefs. A strong, pungent scent rose up from them.
+
+An ugly suspicion crept slowly into his mind. He looked at the bed with
+its frilled pillows, at the flower papered bare walls, at the rather
+worn blue carpet, at the flimsy wrap hanging limply on a peg on the door
+of the bath-room, at the little bed-room slippers tucked away beneath
+one of the white, painted chairs----
+
+He turned and called out: "Nurse! Nurse!"
+
+Something in his tone brought Nellie Pope in quickly.
+
+He was standing with his hand on the big brass knob of the bed. "You
+told me that this was a nursing home," he said.
+
+The girl laughed. How should she know what Peter had done with his
+life--of the ideal that he kept so steadily in front of him? She only
+knew the other kind of men. "So it is," she said. "It's _my_ home and
+I've had to be your nurse. Pretty well put, I think. Don't you? 'Ow
+d'you feel, dearie? A bit groggy on your pins?"
+
+The girl's cockney accent, her made-up face, her cheap, smart clothes
+were noticed by him for the first time. Her insinuating, cheerful manner
+and that sort of hail-fellow-well-met intimacy that was all about her,
+came to him with a new and appalling meaning. He had been spoken to by
+just such women in London after dark, and on Broadway and its side
+streets as he passed. They belonged to the night life of all great
+cities. They were the moths who came out attracted by the glare of
+electric light. Good God! What was he doing in that place?
+
+The keen remembrance of this woman's inestimable kindness, the supreme
+lack of selfishness which had inspired her to bend so frequently over
+his bed, the charity of her treatment of him as he lay ill and helpless,
+made him anxious above everything else not to hurt her feelings. But
+there were things that he must know at once,--urgent, vital things which
+might affect all the rest of his life. There was Betty his
+love-girl--the girl who was to be his wife--who was waiting for him with
+the most exquisite and whole-hearted trust----
+
+"I want you to tell me how I came here," he said.
+
+Nellie Pope went over to the dressing-table. "That's easy," she replied
+lightly, adding a new coat of color to her lips. "The night before last,
+not having 'ad any luck, I was 'aving a last look round and 'appened to
+be in Forty-eighth Street just as you staggered out of a 'ouse on the
+arm of a young gent. I reckoned 'e didn't 'ave any use for me, being
+outside 'is own place, but I passed 'im the usual greetin' from force of
+'abit, just as 'e 'ad called up a taxi. With a funny look on 'is
+face,--a curly smile I called it to meself,--'e suddenly gave me orders,
+lumped you into the cab, blind to the wide, and told me to get in and
+take you 'ome, and 'elp meself to any money you 'ad on you. Well, I did,
+and the next instalment of the serial you know as well as I do. Feeling
+weak, old dear?"
+
+Peter sat heavily on the foot of the bed.
+
+Nellie Pope went on,--simply and naturally, like one who is glad to
+talk, glad to hear her own voice, indescribably, pathetically glad to be
+in the company of a man who asked for nothing, who was not a guest, but
+a friend--a fellow-creature down on his luck. "Me and Graham," she
+said,--"and, I say, what a good-looking boy that is, and fairly devoted
+to you, dearie,--well, 'im and me think that you must 'ave done
+something to get the goat of this young feller. 'E doped you, that's
+certain, and then passed you off on me. Enjoyed the joke, as it were,
+too, according to what I noticed. Is that likely?"
+
+Peter didn't answer. The joke--? Back into his mind came the many things
+that Kenyon had said to him at Oxford: "You need humanizing, old boy.
+You want to be hauled off that self-made pedestal of yours. One of these
+days you'll come to an unholy crash--" Back into his mind also came
+Kenyon's taunts made to him as he stood with his back to the fireplace
+in the library the night after they had returned from having seen Ita
+Strabosck: "You're blind! Blind! I tell you, and in that room sits a man
+whose patients you may become."
+
+Utterly ignorant of the feeling of revenge which had surged through
+Kenyon's brain after Belle had been saved by the Doctor, it was borne
+in on Peter, as he sat on the bed of this poor little night-bird, that
+Kenyon had set out on purpose--with calculated deliberation--to make him
+human, as he called it, before he returned to England. He had made him
+drunk in order to carry out the joke. He had given him something to
+render him insensible, well knowing that in no other way could this
+fiendish desire be fulfilled.
+
+"What time is my brother coming?" he asked.
+
+Nellie Pope was busy daubing powder on her face. "Not until about nine
+o'clock," she said. "'E and me talked it over this morning. The idea is
+that you're coming in on the train that arrives at the Grand Central at
+eight-forty-five. Now don't forget this. You stayed the night in your
+friend's apartment, but you couldn't see 'im off the next morning
+because you'd taken on a bit of business for 'im which meant going out
+of town. Your brother is going to meet you at the station. That's the
+story. And you're going 'ome together. 'E went back to get one of your
+bags. 'E will sneak it out of the 'ouse and bring it round here. Oh, I
+think we're pretty good stage managers, 'im and me. You see, the notion
+is that Ma mustn't be upset. Poor little Ma!"
+
+"What's to-day?" asked Peter, whose whole body seemed suddenly to have
+been frozen.
+
+"Sunday, dearie."
+
+"Then I've been here two nights?"
+
+"That's so," said the girl.
+
+Peter was consumed with a desire to explore the apartment. He wanted to
+discover whether there was another bedroom. "Are you comfortable here?"
+he asked, a little clumsily.
+
+Nellie Pope was rather flattered at his interest and so genuinely
+delighted to see this great big man-boy on his feet again that she could
+have broken into a dance. "Come and 'ave a look at my suite," she said,
+laughing at the word she chose. "You know the bedroom,--I don't think
+you'll forget that in a 'urry. On the right I 'ave the sitting-room
+which I only use for my customers, preferring to sit in the kitchen,
+which we now come to." She led him into it, with her hand on his
+arm--she was apeing the manner and the phraseology of the guide. "In
+this bright little apartment, beautifully furnished with a gas stove and
+dresser--not exactly Jacobean--a plain, but serviceable Deal table and a
+nice piece of linoleum which 'as worn very well, the sometimes popular
+Miss Nellie Pope passes most of 'er leisure. 'Ere she cooks her own
+meals and washes up after 'erself,--she's a very neat little thing,--and
+before going out on the long trail in all weathers, reads about life
+with a big L in the magazines, in which 'eroes with curly 'air, who
+stand about six-feet-six, make 'onest love to blondes with 'eads like
+birds' nests, who are nearly always about six-feet-one, and never fail
+to wear silk stockings,--and there you 'ave it. A charming suite for a
+single lady who earns 'er own living. The only drawback to it is that
+the rent 'as to be paid monthly in advance, and the blighter who
+collects it gives no grace. This is the sort of thing: 'Say! Got that
+rent?' 'Well--' 'Come on now, ain't got no time to waste here. Pay up
+or get out--' I tell you what it is, dearie, there's a little Florida in
+Hell for them men who let out apartments to us girls, and the heat there
+is something intense." She laughed, but there was a curious quiver to
+it.
+
+Behind all her badinage and cheery pluck Peter could see a vein of
+terror which touched his sympathies. Poor little painted, unfortunate
+thing! Was there no other way in which she could live and keep her head
+above water? He sat down and leaned on the table with his elbows. "Will
+you tell me," he said, "what brought you to this?"
+
+"Brought me to it?" Nellie Pope shot out a laugh. "You dear, funny old
+thing!" she said. "Nothing brought me it. I chose it."
+
+"Chose it! Chose _this_?"
+
+"Yes, this! A great many of us choose it. It's the easiest way. That
+shocks yer, doesn't it,--you who come from a comfortable home and whose
+sisters 'ave everything they want. But, you listen to this and don't be
+too fast to pass judgment. I was one of a big brood of unnecessary kids.
+My father earned fourteen shillings a week by grubbing in the earth from
+daybreak till sundown and my mother took in washing. We lived perched up
+on a 'ill among a dozen dirty little cottages. What was the outlook for
+me? Being dragged up with meat once a week and as a maid-of-all-work
+down in the town, being ordered about by a drab of a tradesman's wife,
+with not enough wages to buy a new 'at and a little bit of finery for
+Sundays, and then be married to a lout who got drunk regularly every
+Saturday night and made me what mother was,--a dragged, anaemic, dull
+animal woman, working up to the time I 'ad a baby and working directly
+afterwards,--no colour, no lights, no rush and bustle, no decent clothes
+to put on, no independence. Yes, I chose it, and if I 'ad my time over
+again I should choose it again. See! It's the easiest way. Oh, yes, we
+die young and nobody knows where we're buried, but we've 'ad our day,
+and it's the day that every woman fights for, the same as every man. Oh,
+by the way, 'ere's your purse!" She pushed it over to Peter.
+
+"My purse?" he said.
+
+"Yes; don't you recognize it? It hasn't got so much in it as it 'ad,
+because I was told to 'elp meself, and I did. I 'ave jotted down what I
+'ave taken; 'ere's the account." She held out a piece of paper on which
+Peter could see a list of spendings, which included a taxicab fare and a
+nickel for telephoning. At the end of it there was an item entitled
+"Fee, thirty dollars."
+
+Peter shuddered. He pushed the remainder of the money back to her across
+the table. "Please keep it," he said.
+
+Nellie Pope laughed again. She was full of laughter. "I hoped you'd say
+that," she said. "It'll come in mighty useful."
+
+Peter felt in his pocket and took out his cheque-book. He looked about
+and saw a bottle of ink and a pen on the dresser, with a piece of
+dilapidated blue blotting-paper. Watched with peculiar interest and
+excitement by Nellie Pope, he got up, went over to the dresser and
+wrote a cheque. "Will you accept this?" he asked. "I wish I could make
+it larger. But if it was ten times the amount it couldn't possibly cover
+my gratitude to you. You've been awfully kind to me. Thank you, Nellie."
+He held it out.
+
+The girl took it and gave a little cry. "Five hundred dollars! Oh, Gawd!
+I didn't know that there was so much money in the world." She burst into
+tears, but went on talking. "Mostly I can't afford to cry, because it
+washes the paint off my face, and it's very expensive. But what do I
+care, with this blooming cheque in my 'and? I shall be able to take a
+little 'oliday from business and, my word, that's a treat. God makes one
+or two gentlemen from time to time, 'pon my soul he does. Put it there,
+Peter." She held out her hand with immense cordiality and gratitude, and
+Peter took it warmly.
+
+But he had discovered what he wanted to know. There was only one bed in
+that apartment, and back into his mind came Kenyon's words. "Blind!
+Blind!--both of you--and in that room sits a man whose patients you may
+become."
+
+
+XVIII
+
+Graham was before his time. He hurried in, as anxious to get Peter out
+of that apartment as Peter was to go. He found his brother sitting on
+one side of the kitchen table and Nellie Pope on the other. Both had
+magazines. The girl tore herself out of the marble house of the
+heroine's father with reluctance. Peter had been holding his magazine
+upside down for an hour. He had been looking right through it and into
+his father's laboratory. There was not even the remote suggestion of a
+smile on his pale face when Graham threw open the door.
+
+"Come on, old man," urged Graham. "The taxi's waiting."
+
+Peter got up. "Well, good-bye, Nellie," he said. "I'll come and see you
+soon."
+
+The girl darted a quick look at him. She saw that she was mistaken. "Oh,
+yes, that'll be very kind of you. I 'aven't got any friends."
+
+"Yes you have," said Graham,--"two."
+
+Nellie Pope led the way into the narrow passage, stood on tiptoe, made a
+long arm and got Peter's hat off the peg. Then she stood in front of him
+and her lips trembled, although her well-practised smile curled up the
+corners of her mouth. "Not good-bye, but orevoy, eh? Well, good luck and
+God bless you. I shall miss you both most awfully. It's been a fair
+treat to 'ave you 'ere."
+
+Peter waved his hand and went down the bare stairs. His knees felt weak
+and shaky and his eyes seemed to be at the back of his head. He drew
+back to let a woman pass. She cocked her golden head at him with an
+enquiring eye and a flash of teeth and pushed open the half-closed door
+of an apartment. Her high-pitched metallic voice rang out. "Say, Kid,
+there goes Nellie Pope's boarder. By Gosh, don't yer think some one
+oughter stop her?"
+
+The two boys drove home in silence. They had both caught the meaning of
+those significant words.
+
+Graham, the self-imagined man of the world, who had picked up a large
+collection of half-facts--as all the precocious do--but who, for all
+that, or in spite of that, had walked into the trap set by Ita Strabosck
+without the faintest perception of his danger, threw those words aside.
+Everything would be right, he told himself, and if _he_ had been coming
+out of Nellie Pope's apartment in the ordinary way and had overheard her
+rival's loud comment, he would simply have shrugged his shoulders, like
+the rest of the young men of his type and spirit, and knowing only the
+tail end of the truth, told himself that all men take "chances" and that
+the odds were largely in his favor. And what would this attitude of
+puerile bravado have proved? That he and all the men like him were just
+as much a menace to society from knowing the half-facts which did
+nothing more for them than allow them to take "chances," as the men who
+were wholly ignorant and so blundered blindly into tragedy.
+
+To Peter, the words of the painted woman came as a finishing blow. In
+his crass and culpable ignorance, into which Kenyon had flung one most
+terrific fact, he came away from Nellie Pope not knowing whether he was
+immune--not able to assure himself that he was safe. Think of it! Big
+and strong as he was, he remained a mere child in the matter of plain,
+necessary and urgent truths, and if ever a man knew himself for a fool
+he was Peter Guthrie, as he drove home.
+
+No less grateful to God than ever for having been assisted to go
+through Harvard and Oxford clean and straight, he cursed himself for not
+having sought out the facts of life,--not from grinning and salacious
+arguments of half-informed young men, but from a proper source,--since
+his father had not conceived it to be his duty to give them to him early
+in his life. If Kenyon had not opened out a new and awful vista of
+thought the night that he talked about Graham and Ita Strabosck, Peter's
+ignorance, so jealously and mistakenly preserved, would have remained so
+colossal that he would have gone home humiliated, but unworried. As it
+was, this one thing at any rate--this one most awful thing--had sunk
+into his mind, making him dangerously less ignorant but without proper
+knowledge. He arrived home a prey, therefore, to the most hideous fear.
+
+Luckily there were people dining with his father and mother. Belle had
+gone out of town for several days, suffering from the shock of finding
+out the truth about Kenyon, and Ethel had returned to school. Peter was
+able to go up to his own room unnoticed.
+
+Graham, whose loyalty and concern had been good to see, went up with him
+and threw the suit-case into a corner.
+
+"Gee!" he said, with a touch of emotion that he made no attempt to hide,
+"but I'm glad you're home, Petey." It was many years since he had called
+Peter by the name that he had gone by in the nursery. He seemed to have
+come so close to his big brother during those recent hours.
+
+Peter did a surprising thing. He turned quickly, strode over to Graham,
+put his arm round his shoulder and kissed his cheek. For just those few
+moments both men had gone back through the years and were little boys
+again.
+
+Two things happened to Graham. He blushed to the roots of his hair, and
+swallowed something that threatened to choke him.
+
+"You said you had something on, didn't you,--supper, or something?" said
+Peter.
+
+"Yes; but I'll cut it out if you want me to."
+
+"No, don't. Why should you? I feel pretty rotten and I shall turn in
+right away. Don't bother about me any more, old man."
+
+"I'd rather stay with you."
+
+"Yes, I know you would, old boy, but you push off and have a good time.
+As a matter of fact, I rather want to--to be alone for a bit. D'you
+see?"
+
+"All right, then." And to show that he had become a man again and his
+own master, Graham went off whistling the latest tango.
+
+And by letting his brother go at that moment, Peter did a very unwise
+thing. He was still weak and ill. His brain, which had not recovered
+itself from the effects of Kenyon's poisonous mixture, was in no
+condition to be tortured by solitary thought. He needed to be kept away
+from self-analysis--to be set to work on the ordinary commonplaces of
+everyday life. Most of all, his thoughts required to be put to rest by
+sleep.
+
+Left to himself, Peter sat down, almost in the dark, with his arms
+folded, his legs stuck out and his chin buried in his chest, and
+thrashed the tired machinery of his brain into action. All that had
+happened in the last forty-eight hours coming on top of the suffering
+that he had undergone through having been separated from Betty and
+having failed to bring about the new relationship with his father, upon
+which he had set his heart, gradually became distorted. He began to look
+at everything through an enormous magnifying glass and to see himself,
+not as one whose loyal, simple and unsuspicious nature had been taken
+advantage of by Kenyon, but as a common drunken creature who had had to
+be lifted into a cab and who had spent two nights in the apartment of a
+woman of the street. He began to look at himself with so deep a
+humiliation and disgust that the mere thought of his ever again holding
+Betty in his arms seemed outrageous. And having by stages, made
+conceivable by the condition of his health and the strain that had been
+put upon him by all the things that had happened since his return from
+England, come up to this morbid and hyperconscientious point in his
+self-condemnation, he stood up suddenly, obsessed by a new and appalling
+thought. He said to himself: "I'm not only unworthy of Betty, I'm
+unclean, and so unfit to live." And having seized at that with the
+avidity and even triumph that comes with a sudden disorder of the
+understanding, he began to dramatize his death--to ask himself how to
+make it most effective. And then his father entered his thoughts. "Ah!"
+he cried inwardly. "Father--it's _father_ who is responsible--it's
+_father_ who must be made to pay! I'm his eldest son. He's very proud of
+me. He shall come into the room to-night in which he spends all his
+time for the benefit of other men's sons and find the one he neglected
+lying dead on the floor. That's it! Now I've got it! There's a hideous
+irony about this that'll sink even into his curious mind. I'd like to be
+able to see his face when he finds me. There'd be just a little
+satisfaction in that."
+
+If only Graham could have come back at that moment, or the little mother
+to put her arms round that poor, big, over-sensitive, uninitiated lad
+and bring him out of his mental dejection with her love and warmth!
+
+There was a revolver somewhere among his things. He had bought it when
+he went camping during one of his vacations from Harvard. He hadn't seen
+it for several years. With feverish haste he instituted a search, going
+through one drawer after another, flinging his collars and socks and all
+his personal things aside, talking in a half-whisper to himself, until,
+with a little cry of glee, he found it with a box of cartridges. And
+then, with the most scrupulous care he loaded it, slipped it into his
+pocket and crept out of the room and downstairs. The door of the
+drawing-room was ajar. He heard laughter and the intermingling of
+voices, heard some one say "Good-bye." He dodged quickly past, through
+the library and into the room in which he had last stood with his hand
+on the shaking shoulders of his father. _He_ would give him something to
+weep about this time,--yes, by jove, he would! _He_ would make him wake
+up at last to the fact that his sons were human beings and needed to be
+treated as such!
+
+He welcomed the fact that away in the distance a storm had broken with
+the deep artillery of thunder, and that already heavy rain was swishing
+down on the city. It fitted into his half-maddened mood.
+
+He shut the door. He walked quickly about the room, speculating as to
+the most effective place to be found outstretched. He had a decision and
+then, so that there might be no loop-hole for his father, sat down to
+write a final indictment.
+
+Time fled away. He covered page after page of note paper, pouring out
+all his soul, making a great appeal for the right treatment of Graham
+and his sisters, and finally signed his name, having scrawled in his
+large round writing, "This is my protest."
+
+The storm had come nearer. Outbursts of thunder rolled over the house
+followed by stabs of lightning.
+
+He then deliberately placed himself on the chosen spot, cocked the
+trigger and put the cold barrel of the revolver to his temple.
+
+There was a sort of scream.
+
+Peter swung round, with his nerves jangling like a wire struck suddenly
+with a stick.
+
+There stood his father, unable to form a sentence, his face grey, his
+eyes distended and his arms thrown out in front of him.
+
+
+XIX
+
+Peter was angry, like a child disturbed just at the moment when he was
+planning a surprise.
+
+"Why couldn't you have come in five minutes later?" he cried out, with
+queer petulance.
+
+The Doctor tottered forward and peered into his son's face. "Why were
+you going to do that? Tell me, tell me!"
+
+"You'd have found it all there," said Peter, pointing to the pages which
+he had left on the desk. "Not very nice reading, I can assure you. But
+if you want me to tell you instead, I will. And then you can see how a
+man dies, instead of finding him dead. Perhaps this is the best way,
+after all."
+
+He went to the door and locked it, still holding the revolver. The sight
+of his father did not stir any pity or sympathy in his heart. On the
+contrary, it added to the fever that had attacked his brain and acted as
+an irritant. He went back and stood in front of the grey man. There was
+an expression of contempt on his altered face. The pattering of heavy
+rain against the windows seemed to please him. Nature, like himself,
+seemed to have burst into open protest.
+
+"Sit down," he said.
+
+The Doctor obeyed. The blaze in his son's eyes contradicted his
+unnatural calmness. He had to deal with temporary madness. He could see
+that, and he was chilled with a sense of impending danger in which the
+most poignant solicitude was mixed.
+
+"Now," said Peter, weighing his words with odd deliberation, "you're
+going to hear something that'll shake you out of your smug
+self-complacency and your pitiful belief that everything is all right in
+this house--You're a good man, a better man than the average father.
+There's nothing in your life that isn't to your credit. Even since you
+had children you've worked like a dog to give them a better education
+than you had, and you've gone without things to provide us with money
+and make things easy. We all know that and we're grateful. We all know
+that we ought to be proud of you as a doctor--as a man who has made
+discoveries and added to the scientific knowledge of your profession.
+Well, we _are_ proud of you. But in the last words that you'll hear me
+speak I'm going to tell you what you've failed to do and why, in spite
+of all your kindness and unselfishness, not one of your children
+respects you or loves you, and why I, your eldest son, have got to put
+an end to myself because of your neglect."
+
+Dr. Guthrie sprang to his feet. The calculated cruelty of this
+indictment was more than he could endure. "What does this mean? If you
+don't respect and love me, the others do. In what way have I neglected
+you?" He stood up to Peter like a man, whipped into sudden anger.
+
+Peter liked that. It meant that he could hit out and put facts into
+naked words without feeling that he was ill-treating a weakling. "That's
+what I'm going to tell you," he said. "But there's lots of time and I'm
+not going to leave anything out. What makes you think the others respect
+and love you? Do they ever tell you so? Do they ever tell you anything?
+Do they ever go out of their way to come in here for a little talk? And
+if they did come in would you get out of your shell far enough for them
+to see that you're a human being? Would you meet them half-way in their
+desire to get something besides your money from you? Have you ever once
+in your life been sufficiently inspired with a sense of your
+responsibility as to make you get up and leave your work and come among
+us to play with our toys and get known? Have you ever once in all the
+years that we've been growing up been courageous or wise enough to take
+Graham or me for a walk and tell us _any one_ thing that we ought to
+know? In what way have you ever neglected us? In the most vital way of
+all. We could have done without your money and the education that you've
+been so delighted to give us. We could have done without comfort and
+servants and good food and easy times. They mean nothing in the sum
+total of things that count. Most men never have them at the beginning.
+They make them. What you've never given us is _yourself_. And we
+_needed_ you. What you've never given us is common sense. You've been a
+good father in every inessential way, but no father at all in all that
+goes to make us men. You've lived in a fool's paradise. You've let us
+find our own way. You've not given us one human talk--one simple
+fact--one word of warning. You've utterly neglected us because you're a
+coward and you've hoped and trusted that others might tell us what
+you've been afraid to say. Afraid,--to your own flesh and blood,--think
+of it!" The Doctor cried out again. He realized much of the truth of all
+this. He had confessed himself to be painfully shy to his wife many
+times and had spent God knew how many anxious hours wondering how he
+could get to know his boys. But it was too much to stand and be whipped
+by his son.
+
+"There are thousands of fathers who hold my views and act as I have
+acted," he said.
+
+"And there are so many thousands of sons who have to pay for those views
+that you and men like you spend your lives in trying to save them."
+
+The Doctor drew in his breath. "Wh--what d'you mean?" he stammered.
+
+"Ah! that gets you, doesn't it? Now you're beginning to see what I'm
+driving at, don't you? Put your mind back to the night you found Graham
+here with me. You saved him from forging your name, and that was good.
+But what led him up to that? Did you ask yourself? Did you go to Graham
+and gain his confidence? Did you wonder whether there was a woman behind
+it all who would never have come into his life if you had dealt by him
+like a man and a father,--the sort of woman who has made necessary these
+things round your laboratory and caused you to bend over your
+experiments for years and years?"
+
+"Good God! What do you mean?"
+
+Peter raised his voice. "Why should your sons be immune? What have _you_
+ever done to render them so? Why am I now standing here with this
+revolver in my hand? Look at me! A few hours ago I had health and
+everything in the world that makes life worth living, except a father.
+At this moment, because I've never had a father, I'm so terrified that I
+should be a criminal if I married the girl I love that I'm going to kill
+myself."
+
+"Why? What have you done?"
+
+"I've been two nights in the bed of the sort of woman whose work you are
+trying to undo."
+
+The Doctor staggered, and then rose up in his wrath. "_You_ have? You,
+_my_ son,--with such a mother--with such home influence! You mean to
+tell me that you've descended to such depths of immorality that you've
+gone back on everything that your education has made of you? It's
+unthinkable--unbelievable. You must be a mere animal to have done such a
+thing."
+
+What else he would have said in his emotion and horror no one can say.
+
+A cry of pain and rage rang out. The injustice of his father's narrow,
+inhuman point of view, his inability to show him, even by his impending
+death, that he must wake up to his duty and stand by Graham and his
+sisters, sent the blood into Peter's fevered brain.
+
+"My God!" he cried. "You dare to talk like that to me? You dare to kick
+me in the face after I've told you that I'm ignorant--without listening
+to my explanation as to how I got into that woman's apartment. All
+right, then, I'm not going to be the only one to pay. You shall take
+your share of it. The sins of the children are brought about by the
+neglect of the fathers, and we'll go and stand together before the Judge
+to-night for a verdict on that count."
+
+He raised the revolver, aimed it at his father's head, put his finger on
+the trigger----
+
+There was a blinding flash of lightning. A yellow quivering flame
+seemed to cut the room in half between the two angry men----
+
+An instant later the Doctor saw Peter standing with both hands over his
+face. The unfired revolver lay on the table in all its ugliness. And
+presently, when he had realized what had happened, he went nearer. "God
+didn't intend that you should do that," he said. And then his voice
+broke and he went forward to put his arms round Peter's shoulders. "Give
+me another chance, my dearest boy!" he cried. "Give me another chance!"
+
+But before he could reach his son the great big hurt boy crumpled and
+fell in a heap at his feet.
+
+
+XX
+
+For three weeks Peter's bedroom was the one room in the house to which
+the eyes of all the family were wholly turned. There, in the dark, he
+lay a victim to an attack of brain fever. Never in a condition of great
+danger, poor old Peter was ill and the Doctor, who, better than the
+rest, knew that death has many doors through which life goes out, eyed
+the specialist who had been called in with pathetic eagerness.
+
+The little mother and Belle were joined at once by Betty, and the three
+women sat very close together, speaking and even thinking in whispers
+during the first two days. To the one whose first child he was and the
+one who waited to be his wife, Peter meant everything good that life had
+for them, and in their terror that he might be taken away their
+imaginations ran ahead, as they always do in moments of such poignant
+anxiety, and they were afraid to look out of the window in case they
+should see Death, the black camel, kneeling at the gate.
+
+While the shadow seemed to rest on his house, Dr. Guthrie did many
+things. First of all he went over all the terrible words that Peter had
+said to him that bad and unforgettable night. With great humbleness and
+deep emotion he accepted them as the truth. He sat for hours at his desk
+with his hands over his face and tears leaking through his fingers.
+Metaphorically he placed his old hard-working, concentrated self in the
+criminal stand and his new startled, humbled and ashamed self in the
+Judge's seat and summed up his life as a father. It was very plain that
+he had failed in his duty to his boys. He had made no great effort to
+conquer that queer shyness which had affected him from the beginning. He
+had allowed his children to grow up to regard him as Bluebeard. He had
+thrown upon his wife's slight shoulders all the onus of the
+responsibility for the human development of their characters, and
+because she had succeeded while they were young he had, like a coward,
+neglected to step in and take upon himself his obvious duty when they
+had grown old enough to need more--much more--than the soft guiding hand
+of a mother. He had allowed them to make an early start,--the girls, as
+well as the boys,--without understanding the vital necessity of duty and
+discipline which he alone could inspire in them, because no man or woman
+in all the country, in any school or college, gave a single thought to
+either. He had hidden behind a hundred weak and foolish excuses in order
+to avoid the so-called difficulties of speaking manfully to these two
+embryo men. He had permitted them to grow out of boyhood without giving
+them the benefit of his own uninitiated struggles, or the simple
+warnings and facts which take the glamour away from temptation and make
+straight ways easy. He "took chances," and hoped that some one else
+might by accident give them the facts of sex or that they would find
+them out themselves, as other young men were obliged to do,--never mind
+how.
+
+Remorse and regret made Hell for this man in those honest hours,--this
+good, exemplary, distinguished, self-made man whose name would live by
+his professional efforts and scientific discoveries and who had
+succeeded in everything except as a father.
+
+And then he called Graham into his room, and sitting knee to knee with
+his second son, was brave enough to tell him wherein he now knew that he
+had failed and asked of him, as he had asked of Peter, for another
+chance. It was a pathetic and emotional talk that these two had, during
+which both told the truth, hiding nothing, reserving nothing. The
+outcome of it was good for them both, as well as for Peter. They went
+together to see Nellie Pope and heard from her lips, to the Doctor's
+unspeakable thankfulness, that Peter was in no danger from her. From
+that time onwards that little, kind, wretched girl became one of the
+Doctor's patients in the proper hospital, eventually to be placed by
+him at work which rendered the need for her following her chosen
+profession unnecessary.
+
+And finally the day came when Peter was able to receive visitors, and a
+very good day it was. The little mother went in first--she had the
+right. Peter was sitting in his dressing-gown by the window. To his
+intense relief he had just passed through the hands of a barber, whom he
+had asked to make him look a little less like a poet. He turned his head
+quickly towards the door as his mother went in. His old high spirits had
+returned. The sun was shining and life looked very good. His imagination
+made him as well aware of the fact that his mother had been through some
+of the most anxious hours of her life as though he had seen her sitting
+in her room below with a drawn white face and her hands clasped
+together. He got up and went to meet her. He took her in his arms and
+held her very tight. What they said to each other was far too sacred to
+put into cold print. They spoke in undertone, because the trained nurse
+kept a jealous eye upon her patient and moved in and out of the
+dressing-room adjoining. The interview was not allowed to be a long one.
+The last thing that Peter said to his mother made her very happy. "I
+think that the Governor and I are pals," he said. "I think we've found
+each other at last. Isn't that just about the best thing you ever
+heard?"
+
+In the afternoon Belle was allowed in. To his great relief she told him
+in her characteristic, concise way, how she felt about Kenyon. He caught
+her young, she said--marvellously young, "and if he should ever come
+back to New York all he'll get from me will be two fingers. I've quite
+recovered. So you may take that line out of your forehead, old boy. One
+of these days when you're out and about again we'll walk about four
+times round the reservoir and I'll tell you something of what's been
+going through my mind while you've been ill. In fact, we'll have a very
+substantial pow-wow about Nicholas Kenyon, and I don't think we shall
+leave him quite as immaculate as he usually is by the time we've
+finished, do you?"
+
+"No," said Peter, "I don't. All the same, I'm grateful to him for one
+thing. He has brought father out of his shell,--that's about the best
+thing he ever did in his life."
+
+There was something amusing as well as touching in the way in which the
+two brothers met again. It was the next morning early. Peter was still
+in bed, with his hair all frowzled and the remains of sleep still in the
+corners of his eyes. Graham had ten minutes before he was obliged to
+leave the house to go downtown.
+
+"Hello, old sport!" said Graham.
+
+"Hello, sonnie! Rather a hot thing in ties, that, eh?"
+
+Graham cleared his throat and put his hand rather self-consciously to
+the black-and-white effect newly designed by his pet firm of
+haberdashers. "I think it'll make the senior partner blink all right,"
+he said. "How d'you feel this morning?"
+
+Peter showed his teeth. "I'm sitting up and taking nourishment. Probably
+before the end of the week you'll see me in shorts and a zephyr
+sprinting round the park before breakfast."
+
+"I'd like to," said Graham, and he held out his hand.
+
+Peter took it and gave it a scrunch which had in it nothing of the
+invalid. "Give my love to the subway," he said, "and my kind regards to
+Wall Street."
+
+Graham grinned, waved his hand and left the room. He found it necessary
+to blow his nose rather hard on his way down-stairs. "Oh, Gee!" he said
+to himself. "Oh, Gee! Only think if Peter had--" He didn't allow himself
+to finish the thought.
+
+And then came Betty, and the way in which she and Peter came
+together--the way in which they stood only a step or two from the door,
+inarticulate in their love and thankfulness, was too much even for the
+trained nurse, to whom love and death and the great hereafter were mere
+commonplaces. She withdrew to the dressing-room and stayed there for a
+whole solid quarter-of-an-hour, eliminating herself with a tactfulness
+for which Peter blessed her and Betty became her friend for all time.
+
+"My baby!" said Peter. "We shall have to begin all over again. We're
+almost strangers."
+
+But Betty shook her head. "No," she said. "No. There hasn't been one
+moment during all this time that I haven't been with you."
+
+And Peter nodded. "That's dead true," he said.
+
+And then they sat down very close together and the things they said to
+each other are lost to the world, because we joined the nurse in the
+next room and shut the door.
+
+
+XXI
+
+It happened that the anniversary of Doctor and Mrs. Guthrie's wedding
+day,--they had been married twenty-eight years,--fell on a Sunday that
+year.
+
+The night before, at dinner, the little mother, thankful and happy at
+having Peter back again at the table, asked a favour. In having to ask
+it, instead of simply saying that she desired her children to go with
+her to church the next morning, she proved her knowledge of the fact
+that she had joined the ranks of mothers whose children have outgrown
+them.
+
+Mrs. Guthrie was, however, one of those rather rare women who had grown
+old gracefully. The hand of time, whose natural treatment she had made
+no sort of endeavor to combat, had added to her beauty. Optimism, a
+steady faith in God and His goodness, and the usual gift of accepting
+whatever came to her without kicking against the pricks, had mellowed
+her. It was without any of the spirit of martyrdom that cakes the nature
+of those women who have not been able to acquire the best sort of
+philosophy that she frankly made this very natural and easily fulfilled
+desire a favour. Peter was well again and she wanted to kneel before the
+altar of the Great Father and give thanks, surrounded by her children,
+on the anniversary of the day that made her a wife.
+
+The family had grown out of the habit of going to church,--Belle was
+tired, as a rule, after a late Saturday night, Graham was an inveterate
+week-ender, Ethel was a modernist, and Peter played golf,--and so, when
+they all agreed without any argument the little mother was almost as
+surprised as she was delighted.
+
+The conspiracy of silence which the family had tacitly agreed upon
+during their recent trouble, in order to spare her from unhappiness,
+left Mrs. Guthrie wholly without any knowledge of the fact that they
+were all glad of an excuse to join her in church, because they all felt
+a curious eagerness to listen to the simple, beautiful service with
+which they had grown up and to kneel once more--more humbly and
+sincerely than ever before--in the house of the God who had been
+instrumental in their various escapes.
+
+It would have been better if Mrs. Guthrie had not been so carefully
+shielded--if she had been made to share with the Doctor the blame,--at
+any rate for the mistakes which the two girls had made,--from the fact
+that she had let go the reins of duty and discipline with which she had
+held them in their early years and given them their heads--if she had
+been strong enough and wise enough to maintain over Belle and Ethel,
+without autocratically putting a stop to their having "a good time," the
+authority of respect, won by love and the exercise of sympathy and
+common sense--if, in short, she had not been content to slip into a
+position that allowed these high-spirited girls to say to themselves
+quite so early in their lives, "Oh, poor, dear little mother doesn't
+understand. She doesn't know anything that modern girls have to go
+through." She was shielded because it was understood that she was a sort
+of sleeping partner--not an active member of the firm. She was regarded
+as being so sweet and soft and old-fashioned that she couldn't possibly
+appreciate the conditions of the times in which the girls lived. Their
+early positions had become reversed. It was the girls who mothered their
+mother.
+
+It was a strangely silent party that returned home that Sunday morning,
+headed by the Doctor and the little mother. Betty had been invited by
+Mrs. Guthrie to join them and was to stay to lunch. It was while they
+were in the hall, and just as Betty had gone upstairs with Mrs. Guthrie,
+that the Doctor turned quickly. "I want you all to come to my room," he
+said. "I won't keep you more than a few moments," and led the way.
+
+Wondering what was going to happen, but taking trouble to avoid catching
+each other's eyes, Peter, Graham, Belle and Ethel followed their father
+across the library into the room which, for the two boys, had
+associations that they were never likely to forget, and for the two
+girls had hitherto been a place to avoid.
+
+As soon as they were in the room the Doctor shut the door and, from
+force of habit, went over to his desk. With one thin hand on it, and
+with a shaft of winter sun on a face that was very lined and pale he
+stood there for a moment in silence. His lips trembled a little, but
+there was a look in his eyes behind those strong glasses that his
+children had never seen before.
+
+"Peter, Graham, Belle and my little Ethel," he said brokenly, "I'm going
+to ask you all, on a day that means a great deal to your mother and to
+me, and so to you, to forgive me for not having been all that I ought to
+have been to you I know that I've failed in my duty as a father. You
+have always been my most precious possessions and it is for you that
+I've worked so hard and so closely, but because of all that I went
+through as a child and because I never struggled as I ought to have done
+to overcome a foolish shyness that has made me self-conscious, you and I
+have never been friends--have never understood each other. I take all
+the blame for whatever you have done that has made you suffer and of
+which you are ashamed. Very humbly, I stand before you now and ask you,
+as I asked Peter, here, in this room, to give me another chance. Let's
+make a new beginning from to-day, with the knowledge that I love you
+better than anything in the world. I want you all to meet me half-way in
+future, to look upon me no longer as the shy, unsympathetic,
+unapproachable man who, by accident, is your father, but as your closest
+and most intimate friend whose best and dearest wish is to help you and
+listen to your worries and give you all the advice in his power. I want
+this room to be the place to which you'll always come with the certain
+knowledge that you'll be welcomed by me with the greatest eagerness and
+delight. Don't let there be anything from to-day onwards that you can't
+tell me. Promise me that. I--I've told myself two or three times that
+it's too late for me to be of any use to you--that having failed I could
+never repair my mistake or ever hope to win your confidence and
+friendship."
+
+His voice broke so badly that he was unable to speak, and the
+painfulness of this strange little scene was almost more than those
+young people could bear. It hurt them enough to stand facing a man who
+opened his soul for them to gaze into, especially when that man was
+their father. It was dreadful to see him blinded by tears in the middle
+of an appeal which they all realized called for such extreme courage and
+strength of character to make.
+
+They all wanted to do something to help him and force him out of a
+humbleness that made them horribly self-conscious. It was Peter who did
+it. With two strides he stood at the Doctor's side and put his arms
+round his shoulder.
+
+The Doctor looked up into the face of the great big, tender fellow,
+whose eyes were eloquent, and smiled. Then he found his voice again and
+forced himself to the bitter end of what he had determined to say.
+"Something in the way you've all treated me since Peter has been ill,"
+he said, "has given me hope. That's why I put myself in your hands, my
+dears. Shall we make a new beginning? Will you take me into your
+friendship? Will you all give me another chance?"
+
+With a little cry from her heart Belle went forward and put her arms
+round her father's neck, and Ethel, with hot tears running down her
+face, crept up to him and put one of his hands to her lips. Graham bent
+over the other, which he held tight, and Peter, who had longed for this
+moment through all his illness, didn't give a curse who heard his voice
+break, patted the Doctor on the back, and said: "Dear old man, my dear
+old father!" over and over again.
+
+                              THE END
+
+
+_Books by_ Cosmo Hamilton
+
+
+The Blindness of Virtue
+
+    "A plea to mothers to tell their daughters frankly all the laws
+    of nature before they arrive at years of possible indiscretion
+    through innocence. Its characters are uncommonly well drawn and
+    might have stepped out of life."--_New York Evening Sun._
+
+    "A beautiful piece of work dealing with a stupendously difficult
+    subject with the most dexterous blending of delicacy, dramatic
+    strength and wholesome candor."--_London Daily Chronicle._
+
+307 Pages. _$1.35 net._
+
+
+The Miracle of Love
+
+    "One of the most notable novels of the year, well worth reading
+    by those who are seeking more than a pleasant hour, but wholly
+    delightful merely as a story."--_New Haven Register._
+
+    "It is a fine, well told and purposeful tale, with brilliant and
+    quotable passages."--_Detroit Free Press._
+
+325 Pages. _$1.35 net._
+
+
+The Door That Has No Key
+
+    "A work of genuine power; it is impossible to read it
+    unmoved."--_Providence Journal._
+
+    "A novel to re-read and preserve. A wonderful piece of work,
+    alive with emotion."--_London World._
+
+    "Discusses marriage and divorce. With its brilliant
+    characteristics it is a notable novel."--_New York Evening Sun._
+
+324 Pages. $_1.35 net._
+
+
+The Blindness of Virtue
+
+A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS
+
+     In this drama of two girls' careers Mr. Hamilton shows
+     powerfully just how far innocence, that is only ignorance, is a
+     protection. He levels the finger of accusation against parents
+     whose cowardice of silence, masquerading as refinement,
+     threatens ruin in their children's lives.
+
+     "It is the biggest sermon on the subject that has ever been
+     preached."--_Dorothy Dix._
+
+126 Pages. $1.00 _net_.
+
+
+A Plea for the Younger Generation
+
+    "It is a little bomb which any one at all interested in
+    children--parent, teacher, eugenist--would do well to read and
+    consider. It is written with the glow of conviction and there is
+    merit in it from cover to cover."--_Chicago Tribune._
+
+    "It is a very small book, but into its compass the author
+    contrives to say nearly all that is worth while on 'the tragedy
+    of half truths' on sex matters when they are told to
+    children."--_San Francisco Chronicle._
+
+16mo. 75 cents _net_.
+
+
+LITTLE, BROWN & CO., _Publishers_, BOSTON
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Sins of the Children, by Cosmo Hamilton
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