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diff --git a/38075-h/38075-h.htm b/38075-h/38075-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4708aa --- /dev/null +++ b/38075-h/38075-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18207 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Ambitious Woman, by Edgar Fawcett. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-family: serif; +} + + h1,h2,h3{ + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2 { + margin-top: 8em; +} + +h2.nogap { + margin-top: 1em; +} + +.ti1 { + text-align: center; + font-style: italic; + font-size: 120%; + clear: both; +} + +.ti2 { + font-size: 130%; + clear: both; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: .3em; +} + +.old {font-family: "Old English Text MT",fantasy, sans-serif;} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.b4 {margin-bottom: 4em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.c65 {width: 65%;} + +hr.c20 {width: 20%;} + +table { + margin-left: 3em; + width: 60%; +} + +td {vertical-align: bottom;} + +.toccenter {text-align: center; + margin-left: 40%; + } +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.blockquote { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + +.tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.left {text-align: left;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Ambitious Woman, by Edgar Fawcett + +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: An Ambitious Woman + A Novel + +Author: Edgar Fawcett + +Release Date: November 21, 2011 [EBook #38075] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN AMBITIOUS WOMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Fulvia Hughes, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="432" height="600" alt="cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="c65" /> + +<h2>AN AMBITIOUS WOMAN.</h2> + +<hr class="c20" /> + +<div class="toccenter"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><th class="left"><span class="smcap">Chapter</span></th></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#I"><b>I.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#II"><b>II.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#III"><b>III.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#IV"><b>IV.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#V"><b>V.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#VI"><b>VI.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#VII"><b>VII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#VIII"><b>VIII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#IX"><b>IX.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#X"><b>X.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XI"><b>XI.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XII"><b>XII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XIII"><b>XIII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XIV"><b>XIV.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XV"><b>XV.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XVI"><b>XVI.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XVII"><b>XVII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XVIII"><b>XVIII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XIX"><b>XIX.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XX"><b>XX.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XXI"><b>XXI.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XXII"><b>XXII.</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><a href="#XXIII"><b>XXIII.</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h3 class="old">Edgar Fawcett's Novels.</h3> + +<p><i>Mr. Fawcett is a novelist who does a service that greatly needs to be done,—a +novelist who writes of the life with which he is closely acquainted, and +who manfully emphasizes his respect for his native land, and his contempt +for the weakness and affectation of those who are ashamed of their country.</i>—New +York Evening Post.</p> + +<hr class="c20" /> +<p class="ti1">A GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ninth Edition.</i> "Little Classic" style. 18mo, $1.00.</p> + +<p>Take it as a whole, we know no English novel of the last few years fit to be +compared with it in its own line for simplicity, truth, and rational interest.—<i>London +Times</i>.</p> + +<p>It is the most truly American novel that has been given to the world in some +time, for the reason that it teaches Americans—or, at all events, should teach +them—what puny and puerile beings they become when they attempt to decry +their own country and ape the idiosyncrasies of another.—<i>New York Express.</i></p> + +<p>An amazingly clever book, the story well managed in the telling, the dialogue +bright and sparkling, and the humor unforced and genuine.—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>It is a most charming story of American life and character, with a rare dash +of humor in it, and a good deal of vigorous satire.—<i>Quebec Chronicle.</i></p> + +<hr class="c20" /> +<p class="ti1">A HOPELESS CASE.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Fourth Edition.</i> "Little Classic" style. 18mo, $1.25.</p> + +<p>"A Hopeless Case" contains much that goes to make up a novel of the best +order—wit, sarcasm, pathos, and dramatic power—with its sentences clearly +wrought out and daintily finished. It is a book which ought to have a great +success.—<i>Cincinnati Commercial.</i></p> + +<p>"A Hopeless Case" will, we are sure, meet with a very enthusiastic reception +from all who can appreciate fiction of a high order. The picture of New +York society, as revealed in its pages, is remarkably graphic and true to life.... +A thoroughly delightful novel—keen, witty, and eminently American. It +will give the author a high rank as a writer of fiction.—<i>Boston Traveller.</i></p> + +<p>As a sprightly and interesting comedy this book will find hosts of interested +readers. It has its lessons of value in the striking contrasts it furnishes of the +different styles of life found in our great cities.—<i>New England Journal of +Education.</i></p> + +<p>Its brilliant and faithful pictures of New York society and its charming heroine +can hardly fail to make it very popular.—<i>Salem Gazette.</i></p> + +<hr class="c20" /> +<p class="ti1">AN AMBITIOUS WOMAN.</p> + +<p class="center">12mo, cloth, $1.50.</p> + +<p>*.* <i>For sale by Booksellers. Sent, by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price +by the Publishers</i>,</p> + +<p class="center">HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., <span class="smcap">Boston, Mass.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="c65" /> + +<h1>AN AMBITIOUS WOMAN</h1> + +<p class="ti1 p4">A Novel</p> + +<p class="center p4">BY</p> + +<h2 class="nogap">EDGAR FAWCETT</h2> + +<p class="center b4">AUTHOR OF "A GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE," "A HOPELESS +CASE," ETC.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/tpcrop1.jpg"> +<img src="images/tpcrop.jpg" width="100" height="99" alt="shield" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p class="center p4"> +BOSTON<br /> +HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY<br /> +New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street<br /> +<span class="old">The Riverside Press, Cambridge</span><br /> +1884</p> + +<p class="center p4"> +Copyright, 1888,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> EDGAR FAWCETT.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> + +<p class="center p4"> +<i>The Riverside Press, Cambridge:</i><br /> +Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="c65" /> + +<h2>AN AMBITIOUS WOMAN.</h2> + +<hr class="c20" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> any spot on the globe can be found where even +Spring has lost the sweet trick of making herself +charming, a cynic in search of an opportunity for +some such morose discovery might thank his baleful +stars were chance to drift him upon Greenpoint. +Whoever named the place in past days must have +done so with a double satire; for Greenpoint is not a +point, nor is it ever green. Years ago it began by +being the sluggish suburb of a thriftier and smarter +suburb, Brooklyn. By degrees the latter broadened +into a huge city, and soon its neighbor village +stretched out to it arms of straggling huts and +swampy river-line, in doleful welcome. To-day the +affiliation is complete. Man has said let it all be +Brooklyn, and it is all Brooklyn. But the sovereign +dreariness of Greenpoint, like an unpropitiated god, +still remains. Its melancholy, its ugliness, its torpor, +its neglect, all preserve an unimpaired novelty. It +is very near New York, and yet in atmosphere, suggestion, +vitality, it is leagues away. Our noble city, +with its magnificent maritime approaches, its mast-thronged +docks, its lordly encircling rivers, its majesty +of traffic, its gallant avenues of edifices, its loud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +assertion of life, and its fine promise of riper culture, +fades into a dim memory when you have touched, +after only a brief voyage, upon this forlorn opposite +shore.</p> + +<p>No Charon rows you across, though your short trip +has too often the most funereal associations. You +take passage in a squat little steamboat at either of +two eastern ferries, and are lucky if a hearse with its +satellite coaches should fail to embark in your company; +for, curiously, the one enlivening fact associable +with Greenpoint is its close nearness to a famed +Roman Catholic cemetery. It is doubtful if the unkempt +child wading in the muddy gutter ever turns +his frowzy head when these dismal retinues stream +past him. They are always streaming past him; +they are as much a part of this lazy environ as the +big, ghostly geese that saunter across its ill-tended +cobblestones, the dirty goats that nibble at the placards +on its many dingy fences, or the dull-faced Germans +that plod its semi-paven streets. Death, that +is always so bitter a commonplace, has here become +a glaring triteness. Watched, along the main thoroughfare, +from porches of liquor-shops and windows +of tenement-houses, death has perhaps gained a sombre +popularity with not a few shabby gazers. It +rides in state, at a dignified pace; it has followers, +too, riding deferentially behind it. Sometimes it has +martial music, and the pomp of military escort. Life +seldom has any of this, in Greenpoint. It cannot +ride, or rarely. It must walk, and strain to keep its +strength even for that. One part of it drudges with +the needle, fumes over the smoky stove, sighs at the +unappeasable baby; another part takes by dawn the +little dwarfish ferry-boat, and hies to the great me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>tropolis +across the river, returning jaded from labor +by nightfall. No wonder, here, if death should seem +to possess not merely a mournful importance but a +gloomy advantage as well, or if for these toilful +townsfolk philosophy had reversed itself, and instead +of the paths of glory leading to the grave, it should +look as if the grave were forever leading to some sort +of peculiar and comfortable glory.</p> + +<p>But Greenpoint, like a hardened conscience, still +has her repentant surprises. She is not quite a thing +of sloth and penury. True, the broad street that +leads from steamboat to cemetery is lined with +squalid homes, and the mourners who are so incessantly +borne along to Calvary must see little else +than beer-sellers standing slippered and coatless beside +their doorways, or thin, pinched women haggling +with the venders of sickly groceries. But elsewhere +one may find by-streets lined with low wooden dwellings +that hint of neatness and suggest a better grade +of living. A yellowish drab prevails as the hue of +these houses; they seem all to partake of one period, +like certain homogeneous fossils. But they do not +breathe of antiquity; they are fanciful with trellised +piazzas and other modern embellishments of carpentry; +sometimes they possess miniature Corinthian +pillars, faded by the trickle of rain between their +tawny flutings, as if stirred with the dumb desire to +be white and classic. Scant gardens front them, +edged with a few yards of ornamental fence. Their +high basement windows stare at you from a foundation +of brick. They are very prosaic, chiefly from +their lame effort to be picturesque; and when you +look down toward the river, expecting to feel refreshed +by its gleam, you are disheartened at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +way in which lumber-yards and sloop-wharves have +quite shut any glimpse of it from your eyes.</p> + +<p>In one of these two-storied wooden houses, not +many years ago, dwelt a family of three people,—a +Mr. Francis Twining, his wife, and their only child, +a girl, named Claire. Mr. Twining was an Englishman +by birth; many years had passed since he first +landed on these shores. He had come here nearly +penniless, but with proud hopes. He was then only +three-and-twenty. He had sprung from a good +country family, had been fitted at Eton for Oxford, +and had seen one year at the famed University. +Then sharp financial disaster had overtaken his father, +whose death soon followed. Francis was a +younger son, but even to the heir had fallen a shattered +patrimony, and to himself merely a slender +legacy. With this, confident and undaunted as +though it were the purse of Fortunio, Francis had +taken voyage for New York. At first he had shown +a really splendid energy. Slim of figure, with a pale, +womanish face lit by large, soft blue eyes, he gave +slight physical sign of force or even will. But +though possessed of both, he proved one of those ill-fated +beings whom failure never tires of rebuffing. +His mental ability was unquestioned; he shrank with +sensitive disgust from all vice; he had plenty of ambition, +and the instinct of solid industry. Yet, as years +passed on, both secured him but meagre recompense +for struggle. He had begun his career with a clerkship; +now, at fifty-three, he was a clerk still. All his +hope had fled; he had undergone bitter heart-burnings; +he had striven to solve the problem of his own +defeat. Meanwhile its explanation was not difficult. +He had a boyish trust in his fellow-creatures that no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +amount of stern experience seemed to weaken. Chicanery +had made him its sport. Five separate times +he had been swindled mercilessly by men in whom +he had reposed implicit faith. There had lain his +rock of ruin: he was always reposing implicit faith +in everybody. His life had been one long pathos +of over-credulity. He could think, reason, reflect, +analyze, but he was incapable of doubting. A fool +could have deceived him, and naturally, on repeated +occasions, knaves had not found it difficult. At fifty-three +his last hard-earned savings had been wormed +from him by the last plausible scamp. And now he +had accepted himself as the favorite of misfortune; +over the glow of his spirit disappointment had cast +its dulling spell, like the deep film of ash that sheathes +a spent ember. He had now one aim—to keep his +wife and child from indigence while he lived, and one +despair—that he could not keep them from indigence +after he was dead. But his really lovely +optimism still remained. He had been essentially +amiable and complaisant in all intercourse with his +kind, and this quality had not lost a ray of its fine +former lustre. With ample excuse for the worst cynic +feeling, he continued a gentle yet unconscious philanthropist. +There was something piteously sweet in +the obstinacy with which he still saw only the bright +side of humanity. His delicate person had grown +more slim; his rusty clothes hung about him with a +mournful looseness; his oval face, worn by worriment, +had taken keener lines; but his large blue eyes still +kept their liquid sparkle, and kindled in prompt unison +with his alert smile. The flaxen growth that +had always fringed his lips and chin with cloudy +lightness, had now become of a frosty gray. Seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +passingly, no one would have called him, as the current +phrase goes, a gentleman. His wearied mien forbade +the suggestion of leisure, while his broadcloth +spoke of long wear and speedy purchase. But a close +gaze might have caught the unperished refinement +that still clung to him with sad persistence, and was +evident in such minor effects of personal detail as +a glimpse of cleanly linen about throat and wrist, a +cheap yet careful lustre of the often jaded boot, a +culture and purity of the hand, or even a choice +nicety of the finger-nail.</p> + +<p>He had married after reaching these shores, and +his marriage had proved another instance of misplaced +confidence. His wife had been handsome +when a young woman, and she had become Mrs. +Twining at about the age of five-and-twenty. She +was personally quite the opposite of her bridegroom; +she was an inch taller than he, and had an aquiline +face, splendid with a pair of very black eyes that she +had rolled and flashed at the other sex since early +girlhood. She had rolled and flashed them at her +present husband, and so conquered him. She was a +good inch taller than he, and lapse of time had not +diminished the difference since their union. She had +been extremely vulgar as Miss Jane Wray, when +Twining had married her, and she was extremely vulgar +still. She had first met him in a boarding-house +in East Broadway, where Twining had secured a room +on his arrival from England. At this period East +Broadway wore only a waning grace of gentility; +some few conservative nabobs still lingered there, obstinately +defying plebeian inroads. Its roomy brick +mansions, with their arched, antique doorways devoid +of any vestibule; their prim-railed stoops that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +guessed not of ornate balusters; and their many-paned, +thin-sashed windows where plate-glass had +never glittered, were already invaded by inmates +whose Teuton names and convex noses prophesied +the social decline that must soon grasp this once select +purlieu. Jane Wray was neither German nor +Hebrew; she was American in the least pleasant +sense of that word, both as regarded parentage and +breeding. She was an orphan, and the recipient +of surly charity from unprosperous relatives. She +wanted very greatly to marry, and Twining had +seemed to her a golden chance. There was much +about her from which he shrank; but she contrived +to rouse his pity, and then to lure from him a promise +which he would have despised himself not to keep.</p> + +<p>The succeeding years had brought bitter mutual +disappointments. Mrs. Twining had believed firmly +in her husband's powers to sound the horn of luck +and slay the giant of adversity. But he had done +neither, and it now looked as if his bones were one +day to bleach along the roadway to success. She +became an austere grumbler, forever pricking her +sweet-tempered lord with a tireless little bodkin of reproach. +Her vulgarities had sharpened; her wit, always +cruel and acute, had tipped itself with a harsher +venom and fledged itself with a swifter feather; her +bright, coarse beauty had dimmed and soured; she +was at present a gaunt, elderly female, with square +shoulders and hard, dark eyes, who flung sarcasms +broadcast with a baleful liberality, and seemed forever +standing toward her own destiny in the attitude +of a person who has some large unsettled claim against +a nefarious government.</p> + +<p>Claire Twining, the one child who had been born<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +of this ill-assorted marriage, was now nineteen years +old. She bore a striking likeness to her father; she +possessed his blue eyes, a trifle darker in shade, his +broad white forehead, his sloping delicacy of visage, +and his erect though slender frame. From him, too, +had come the sunny quality of her smile, the gold +tints in her chestnut hair, the fine symmetry of hands +and feet. Rather from association than heredity she +had caught his kindly warmth of manner; but in +Claire the cordial impulse was far less spontaneous; +she had her black list of dislikes, and she took people +on trust with wary prudence. Here spoke her +mother's share in the girl's being, as it spoke also +in a certain distinct chiseling of every feature, that +suggested a softened memento of Miss Jane Wray's +girlish countenance, though Claire's coloring no more +resembled her mother's of past time than wild-rose is +like peony, or pastel like chromo. But there was +one more maternal imprint set deep within this girl's +nature, not to be thinned or marred by any stress of +events, and productive of a trait whose development +for good or ill is the chief cause that her life has here +been chronicled. The birthright was a perilous one; +it was a heritage of discontent; its tendency was perpetual +longings for better environment, for ampler +share in the world's good gifts, for higher place in its +esteem and stronger claim to its heed. But what in +her mother had been ambition almost as crudely +eager as a boorish elbow-thrust, was in Claire more +decorous and interesting, like the push of a fragile +yet determined hand through a sullen crowd. In +both cases the dissatisfaction was something that is +peculiar to the woman of our land and time—a desire +not to try and adorn the sphere in which she is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +born, but to try and reach a new sphere held as more +suited for her own adornment. Yet Claire's restless +yearning lacked the homely grossness of her mother's; +it reflected a finer flash; it was not all cut from +one piece; it had its subtlety, its enthusiasm, even +its justification. It was not a mere stubborn hunger +for advancement; it was a wish to gain advancement +by the passport of proper worthiness. She did not +want the air to lift her away from hated surroundings, +but she wanted wings that would turn the air +her willing ally. It was what her father had made +her that touched what her mother had made her with +a truly poetic tenderness. By only a little prouder +curve of the neck and a little happier fullness of the +plume, we part the statuesque swan from considerably +more commonplace kindred. Something like +this delightful benison of difference had fallen upon +Claire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Circumstance,</span> too, had fed the potency of this +difference. Claire had not been reared like her +mother. When she was nine years old her parents +were living in a tiny brick house near the East River, +among New York suburbs. But Claire had been +sent to a small school near by, kept by a dim, worn +lady, with an opulent past and a most precarious +present. She had studied for three years under this +lady's capable care, and had lost nothing by the opportunity. +Her swift, apt mind had delighted her instructress, +whose name was Mrs. Carmichael. Claire +was remarkably receptive; she had acquired without +seeming effort. Mrs. Carmichael was one of the +many ladies who attempt the education of youth +without either system or equipment for so serious a +task. Her slight body, doubtless attenuated by recurring +memories of a cherished past, would sometimes +invisibly quake before Claire's precocious questionings. +She knew all that she knew superficially, +and she soon became fearful lest Claire should pierce, +by a sort of adroit ignorance, her veneer of academic +sham. She had a narrow little peaked face, of a prevailing +pink hue, as though it were being always +bathed in some kind of sunset light, like the rosy +afterglow of her own perished respectability. Her +nervous, alert head was set on a pair of sloping shoul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>ders, +and she wore its sparse tresses shaped into roulades +and bandeaus which had an amateurish look, +and seemed to imitate the deft handiwork of some +long-departed tirewoman. She carried her small +frame with erect importance. She was always referring +to vanished friendships with this or that notability, +but time and place were so ignored in these volunteered +reminiscences as to make her allusions acquire +a tender mythic grandeur. Claire had watched well +her teacher's real and native elegance, and she had +set this down as a solid fact. Perhaps the child had +probed her many harmless falsities with equal skill. +As for Mrs. Carmichael, she would sometimes pat +her pupil on the cheek and praise her in no weak +terms. "I wish that I had only known you a long +time ago, my little lady," she would say, in her +serene treble voice. "I would have brought you up +as my own dear child, for I never had a child of +my own. I would have given you a place in the +world to be proud of, and have watched with interest +the growth of your fine mental abilities, surrounded +by those poor lost friends of mine who +would have delighted in so clever a girl as you are."</p> + +<p>"When you speak of your friends as lost, Mrs. +Carmichael," Claire had once replied, "do you mean +that they are all dead now?"</p> + +<p>At this question the lady slowly shook her head, +with just enough emphasis not to imperil the modish +architecture of her locks.</p> + +<p>"Some of them are dead, my dear," she murmured, +with the least droop of each pink eyelid, "but +the rest are much too grand for me at present. They +have quite forgotten me." Here Mrs. Carmichael +gave a quick, fluttered cough, and then put the tips<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +of her close-pressed fingers to the edges of her close-pressed +lips.</p> + +<p>Claire privately thought them very churlish friends +to have forgotten anybody so high-bred and winsome +as Mrs. Carmichael. And she publicly expressed +this thought at supper the same evening, while she +sat with her parents in a small lower room opening +directly off the kitchen. A weary maid, whose face +flamed from the meal she had just cooked, was patiently +serving it. Mrs. Twining, who had lent no +light hand toward the Monday's washing, was in the +act of distributing a somewhat meagre beefsteak, +which fate and an incompetent range had conspired +to cover on both sides with a layer of thick, sooty +black. Mr. Twining was waiting to get a piece of +the beefsteak; he did not yet know of its disastrous +condition, for a large set of pewter casters reared its +uncouth pyramid between himself and the maltreated +viand; but although such calamities of cookery were +not rare to his board, he was putting confidence, as +usual, in the favors of fortune, and preparing himself +blandly for a fresh little stroke of chagrin.</p> + +<p>Outside it was midwinter dusk, and a bleak wind +was blowing from the ice-choked river, pale and dull +under the sharp stars. One-Hundred-and-Twelfth +Street was in those years a much wilder spot than +now; its buildings, like its flag-stones, were capricious +incidents; its boon of the elevated railroad was +yet undreamed of by capitalists; you rode to it in +languid horse-cars from the remote centres of commerce, +upward past parapets of virgin rock where +perched the hut of the squatter, or wastes of houseless +highway where even the aspiring tavern had not +dared to pioneer. Mr. Twining had just ridden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +hither by this laggard means, and he was tired and +hungry; he wanted his supper, a little valued chat +with his beloved Claire, and a caress or two from the +child as well. After these he wanted a few hours of +rest before to-morrow re-dawned, with its humdrum +austerities. One other thing he desired, and this was +a blessing more often desired than attained. He had +the wish for a peaceful domestic interval, as regarded +his wife's deportment, between home-coming and departure.</p> + +<p>But to-night it had been otherwise decreed. Mrs. +Twining's faint spark of innate warmth was never +roused by the contact of suds. Monday was her day +of wrath; you might almost have fancied that she +had used a bit of her superfluous soap in vainly trying +to rub the rust from her already tarnished hopes.</p> + +<p>The small room where the trio sat was void of any +real cheer. A pygmy stove, at one side of it, stood +fuel-choked and nearly florid in hue. From this a +strong volume of heat engulfed Mrs. Twining in its +oppressive spell, but lost vigor before it reached her +husband or Claire, and left the corners of the apartment +so frigid that a gaunt sofa, off where the light +of the big oil-lamp could only vaguely touch it, +took upon its slippery hair-cloth surface the easy +semblance of ice. Two windows, not fashioned to +thwart the unwonted bitterness of the weather, were +draped with nothing more resistant than a pair of +canvas shades, gorgeously pictorial in the full light +of day, when seen by the passer who seldom passed. +These shades were of similar designs; in justice to +Mrs. Twining it must be told that they had been +rented with the house. On each a plumed gentleman +in a gondola held fond converse with a dishev<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>eled +lady in a balcony. The conception was no less +Venetian in meaning than vicious in execution; but +to-night, for any observant wayfarer, such presentments +of sunny Italy, while viewed between blotches +of wan frost that crusted the intervening panes, must +have appeared doubly counterfeit. Still, the chief +discomfort of the chamber, just at present, was a +layer of brooding cold that lay along its floor, doggedly +inexterminable, and the sole approach to regularity +of temperature that its four walls contained.</p> + +<p>It had made Claire gather up her feet toward the +top rung of her chair, and shiver once or twice, but +it had not chilled the pretty gayety of her childish +talk, all of which had thus far been addressed to her +father.</p> + +<p>"And so you like Mrs. Carmichael, my dear?" +Twining had said, in his smooth, cheerful voice. +"Well, I am glad of that."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I like her," replied Claire, with a slight, +wise nod of her head, where the clear gold of youth +had not yet given way to the brown-gold of maidenhood. +"But I think it strange that all her fine +friends have dropped off from her. That's what she +told me to-day, Father; truly, she did! Why don't +they care for her any more? Is it because she's poor +and has to teach little dunces like me?"</p> + +<p>Twining's feminine blue eyes scanned the rather +dingy tablecloth for a moment. "I am afraid it is," +he said, in a low voice, pressing between his fingers +a bit of ill-baked bread that grew doughy at a touch.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining ceased to carve the obdurate beefsteak, +though still retaining her hold on the horn-handled +knife and fork. She lifted her head so that +it quite towered above the formidable group of casters, +and looked straight at her husband.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't put false notions into the child, Francis," +she said, each word seeming to strike the next with +a steely click. "You're always doing it. <i>You</i> know +nothing of where that woman came from, or who +she is."</p> + +<p>Twining looked at his wife. His gaze was very +mild. "I only know what she has told me, Jane," +he said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining laughed and resumed the carving. +Her laugh never went with a smile; it never had +the least concern with mirth; it was nearly always +a presage of irony, as an east wind will blow news of +storm.</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly; what she's told you! That's +you, all over! Suppose she'd told you she'd been +Lady of the White House once. You wouldn't have +believed her, not you! Of course not!"</p> + +<p>"What is a Lady of the White House?" asked +Claire, appealing to her father. She was perfectly +accustomed to these satiric outbursts on her mother's +part; they belonged to the home-circle; she would +have missed them if they had ceased; it would have +been like a removal of the hair-cloth sofa, or an accident +to one of the lovers on the window-shades.</p> + +<p>Twining disregarded this simple question, which +was a rare act with him; he usually heard and +heeded whatever Claire had to say.</p> + +<p>"Please don't speak hard things of Mrs. Carmichael," +he answered his wife. "She's really a +person who has seen better days."</p> + +<p>"Better days!" echoed Mrs. Twining. "Well, +then, we ought to shake hands. <i>I</i> think she's just +<i>the</i> plainest humbug I ever saw, with her continual +brag about altered circumstances. But I'll take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +your word for it, Francis. The next time I see her +I'll tell her we're fellow-unfortunates. We'll compare +our 'better days' together, and calc'late who's +seen the most."</p> + +<p>Twining gave a faint sigh, and looked down. Then +he raised his eyes again, and a new spark lit their +mildness. Something to-night had made him lack +his old patient tolerance.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Mrs. Carmichael would have much +the longer list," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you think so!"</p> + +<p>"I know so."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining tossed her head. The gloss was +still on her dark hair, whose gray threads had yet to +come, later, in the Greenpoint days. She was still, +as the phrase goes, a fine figure of a woman. Her +black eyes had not lost their fire, nor her form its imposing +fullness. She raised herself a little from her +chair, as she now spoke, and in her voice there was +the harshness that well fitted her bristling, aggressive +mien.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you <i>know</i> so, do you?" she said, in hostile +undertone. Then her next words were considerably +louder. "But <i>I</i> happen to know, Francis Twining, +<i>Es</i>quire, who and what <i>I</i> was when you took me +from a comfortable home to land me up here at the +end of the world, where I'm lucky if I can get hold +of yesterday's newspaper to-morrow, and cross over +to the cars without leaving a shoe behind me in the +mud!"</p> + +<p>The least flush had tinged Twining's pale cheeks. +He had looked very steadily at his wife all through +this speech. And when he now spoke, his voice made +Claire start. It did not seem his.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You were a poor girl in a third-rate boarding-house, +when I married you," he said. "And the +boarding-house was kept by relatives who disliked +and wanted to be rid of you. I don't see how you +have fallen one degree lower since you became my +wife. But if you think that you have so fallen, I +beg that you will not forever taunt me with idle +sneers, of which I am sick to the soul!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining rose from her chair. Her dress was +of some dark-red stuff, and as the stronger light struck +its woof the wrath of her knit brows seemed to gain +a lurid augment. She had grown pale, and a little +mole, just an inch or so to the left of her assertive +nose, had got a new clearness from this cause. She +did not speak, at first, to her husband. She addressed +the fatigued and heated maid, who waited to hand +Twining his share of the doleful beefsteak—in this +case a true burnt-offering.</p> + +<p>"You can go into the kitchen, Mary Ann," she +said, with tones that had a kind of rumble, like the +beginning of a large thunder-peal, before its threat +has become fury. "See to the range, you know. +Dump all the coal out, and then sift it."</p> + +<p>Mary Ann went uneasily toward the door. She +understood that this order thinly masked a bluff command +for her absence. Mrs. Twining slowly turned +her head, and followed the poor factotum with her +kindled black eyes till she had quitted the room. +Then she looked with stern directness at her husband.</p> + +<p>"I've stood a good deal from you," she said, pitching +her voice in a much shriller key, "but I ain't +going to stand <i>this</i>, Francis Twining, and it's time I +told you so."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>Twining rose. He did not look at all angry. +There was a weary distress on his face, mixed with +an unhabitual firmness.</p> + +<p>"What have you stood?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Being browbeat by you, sir, because I see fit to +talk out my mind, and ain't the weak-spirited goose +you'd like to have me!" retorted Mrs. Twining, all +rage and outcry.</p> + +<p>"I don't want a quarrel," said Twining, calm as +marble. "God knows I don't, Jane! But the time +has come for me to speak plainly. I have never +browbeaten you. It has been quite the opposite. I +have already borne too much from you for the sake +of peace. But no peace springs from that course. +So now I mean to try another. You and I must live +apart, since we can't agree." He turned to Claire, +at this point, and reached out one hand, resting it on +the girl's head. "Let our child choose which of us +she will go with," he added.</p> + +<p>Claire started up, sprang to her father's side, and +nestled herself against him, catching one of his +hands in both her own and drawing his arm about +her neck. She was trembling with what seemed +sudden fear as she looked up into his face.</p> + +<p>"Father," she cried, "I'll go with <i>you</i>! I couldn't +live alone with Mother. If <i>you</i> go, take me with +you! Promise—please promise! Mother isn't good +to me a bit. I couldn't live alone with her! She is +cross nearly all the time, when you're not here, and +she struck me yesterday, and she often does it, and +I didn't ever tell you before, because I knew it would +trouble you so to know!"</p> + +<p>These words were spoken in a high, pleading, +plaintive voice. The child's sad little secret had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +been wrung from her by sheer terror of desertion. +There was no accusative resentment in her tones; +she might have gone on for a long time hiding the +truth; it had leapt to her lips now only in the +shape of an impetuous argument against the dreaded +chance of being left behind, should her father's +menace of departure become fact. Mrs. Twining +moved from her own side of the table to where her +husband and daughter stood. She looked persistently +at Claire, during this action, and had soon drawn +very close to her.</p> + +<p>"You sly young vixen!" she exclaimed. Her cry +had a husky note, and she raised one hand. It was +plain that she meant wicked work to Claire. Twining +pushed Claire behind him, quick as thought, and +seized his wife's hand while it fell. He had grown +white to the lips. His clasp was not weak about the +wrist which he still retained. He did not appear at +all like a man in a passion, but rather like one filled +with the resolve which gets new sinew from excitement.</p> + +<p>"You shall never strike that child again." Then +he released his wife's wrist, and half turned, putting +his arms round Claire, while she again nestled at his +side. "I will do all I can for you," he went on, +"but neither she nor I shall live with you after to-morrow. +It was bad enough to have you make things +hard for me, but you shan't spoil her with your own +coarseness." The next moment he turned to Claire, +wrapped her still more fervently in both arms, and +kissed her twice or thrice on the uplifted forehead.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining stood quite still, for a short while. +She was watching her husband intently. Something +new in him had revealed itself to her; it blunted the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +edge of her anger; she was unprepared for it. Personal +defiance in Twining might merely have quickened +her own long-petted sense of grievance, which +had grown morbidly dear, as we know. But a fresh +experience fronted her; she found herself repelled, +so to speak, by the revolt of an insulted fatherhood.</p> + +<p>It was a very serious rebellion, and she felt its +force. Past concessions from her husband gave the +measure of his present mutiny. He had never been +humble to her, but he had yielded, and she had +grown more used than she realized to his pliant complaisance. +This abrupt change shocked her with an +actual fright. Her ready little body-guard of taunts +and innuendoes fled her usual summons. The despot +stood deserted; not a janizary was left. She saw, in +quick, startled perspective, her own future, uncompanioned +by the man whose supporting nearness her +bitter gibes had so often slighted. But apart from +merely selfish causes, a thrill of human regard for +her child and the father of her child lent fresh accent +to alarm. It was like the tremor wrought in a slack +harp-string, or one rusty with disuse, but it was still +a definite vibration.</p> + +<p>She succumbed awkwardly, like most overthrown +tyrants. Tears would have looked incongruous had +they left the chill black of her eyes, just as there are +climes of so fixed a rigor that thaws rank in them +as phenomena. But her brows met in a perplexed +frown that had no trace of ire, and she made a flurried +upward gesture with both hands, receding several +steps. When she spoke, which she promptly did, her +native idiom forgot the slight garb of change that +marriage and nicer association had lent it, and stood +forth, stripped by agitation, in graceless nudity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mercy me, Francis!" she exclaimed, "you ain't +talking as if you was a sane man at all! You'll quit +your lawful wife, sir, 'cause she's boxed her own +young one's ears? Why, that child can put on the +airs of any six, when she's a mind to. I ain't punished +her half enough. Do set down and eat your +supper and stop bein' a fool!"</p> + +<p>These chronicled words have the effect of rather +bald commonplace it is true; but to the man and the +child who heard them an apprehensive whimper, a +timorous dilation of the eyeball and a flurried quiver +about the severe mouth were accompaniments that +held piercing significance. Such tokens from their +domestic autocrat meant surrender, and surrender +was hard for both Twining and Claire to join with +past impressions of rule and sway, of command and +observance, from the very source which now gave +forth their direct opposites.</p> + +<p>Both father and daughter still remained silent. +Claire's head was still nestling against his breast; +Twining's arms still clasped her slight frame, as before. +Neither spoke. But Mrs. Twining soon spoke +again, and she moved toward the door as she did so.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you won't set down, eh?" she inquired; +and there was now a sullen fright both in her manner +and tone. "Very well. P'raps you'll eat your +supper when I'm gone. I've always heard crazy +people must be humored. Besides 'tisn't safe, with +so many knives and forks round."</p> + +<p>After that she left the room, going up stairs into +the little hall above the basement, where she could +have seen her breath freeze if economic reasons had +not kept the lank, pendant gas-burner still unlighted.</p> + +<p>She had beaten a positive retreat. Her exit had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +been a distinct concession. Twining turned his gaze +toward the vacant threshold after she had passed it, +as if he could not just realize the unwonted humility +of her leave-taking.</p> + +<p>"Claire," he said, again kissing the child, while +she yet clung to him, "you should have told me before +that your mother struck you. You should have +told me the first time she did it." He embraced her +still more closely. Since she was a baby he had +always treasured her, and now that defeat and disappointment +dealt him such persistent strokes, his love +grew deeper with each disastrous year. Claire's +presence in his life had gained a precious worth from +trouble; it was the star that brightened with sweeter +force against a deepening gloom.</p> + +<p>He leaned down and slowly passed his lips along +her silky hair, just where its folds flowed off from +one pale temple. "Oh, my little girl," he said, in a +voice whose volume and feeling had both plainly +strengthened, "I hope that happy days are in store +for you! I shall do my best, darling, but if I fail +don't blame me. Don't blame me!"</p> + +<p>He appeared no longer to be addressing Claire. +He had lifted his head. Both his arms engirt her as +previously, but his eyes, looking straight before him, +were sombre with meditation.</p> + +<p>Claire gazed up into his face. "Father," she +cried, "I shall be happy if I am always with you! +Don't look like that. Please don't. What does it +mean? I have never seen you so sad before. It +frightens me. Father, you are so strange and different." +He smiled down at the child as her high, +pained appeal ended; but the smile soon fled again; +a gloomy agitation replaced it. She felt his clasping +arms tremble.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You cannot always have me," he answered. "I +love you very much, my little one, but some day I +must leave you; my time will have come, and it may +come while your life is yet in its first flower. Then +I want you to be wiser than I. Listen to what I +say. I am in a dark humor now, but it will soon +pass, for I can't help being cheerful, as you know; +there's a good deal more sun than shadow in me. +But just now I am all shadow. I feel as if I should +never be successful, Claire. That is a queer word +to your young ears. Do you recollect, when I took +you for that one day to the country, last summer, +how we set out to climb the large hill, and were sure, +at starting, that we should reach its top? But half +way up we grew tired and hot; there was no breeze, +and the way was rough; so we sat down, didn't we, +and rested, and then went home? You have not forgotten? +Well, success means to do what you set out +for, darling. It means to climb the hill—not to get +tired and go home. That is what everybody is trying +to do. But only a few of us ever reach the top. +And to reach the top means to have many good +things—to be like the grand people who were once +Mrs. Carmichael's friends. Do you understand, +Claire?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the child. Her lips were parted. A +gloom had clouded the blue of her eyes; they seemed +almost black, and two unwonted gleams pierced them. +She was alarmed yet fascinated by the real sorrow in +her father's look, and by his unfamiliar speech, with +its fervent speed and bitter ring.</p> + +<p>"I shall never gain the top of the hill, Claire!" +Twining went on. "Something tells me so now—to-night. +To-morrow I shall be changed. I shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +turn hopeful again. I shall go climbing along, and +pick myself up stoutly if I stumble. But remember +what I tell you to-night. In my heart, little girl, +there is a great fear. I am afraid I must leave you, +when I do die, poor and helpless. We are always +helpless when we are poor. But you must not lose +courage. There is one thing a girl can always do if +she has beauty and wit, and you will have both. +She can marry. In the years of life left to me, I +shall strain hard to make you a lady. I am a gentleman. +My father, and his father, and his father, +too, were all gentlemen. It is in your blood to be a +lady, and a lady you shall be. But your mother"—Here +he paused. Even his raw sense of wrong, and +the precipitate reasoning native to all passion, forbade +his completing the last sentence.</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean, Father," said Claire, +who had not lost the significance of a word, and +whose mind would have grasped subtler discourse +than the present. She spoke falteringly, and turned +her eyes toward the deserted table; and then, with +her shaken, tragic little voice, she lapsed into the +prose of things, slipping over that edge between the +emotional and the ordinary whose unwilling junction +makes the clash that we like to call comedy.</p> + +<p>"Father," she said, "please sit down and eat your +supper. It's getting cold. Please do!"</p> + +<p>This is not at all an index of Claire's thoughts, for +they were then in a storm of dread and misgiving; +but she shrank from the changed aspect of one known +and loved in moods widely different. She seized, as +if by a fond instinct, the most ready means of re-securing +her father as she had at first found him and +had always afterward prized him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>But her attempt was vain. Twining's arms only +tightened about her frail form. Like all with whom +outburst is rare, his perturbation worked toward a +climax; it would brook no repression. There are +craters that keep the peace for many decades, but in +spite of that their stored lava will not be cheated of +the eruptive chance.</p> + +<p>So it was with Twining. He trembled more than +ever, and his cheeks were now quite hueless. "I +want you to do all that I shall leave undone, +Claire!" he exclaimed, with voluble swiftness. "I +want you to conquer a high place among men and +women. Be cool and wary, my daughter. Don't +live to serve self only, but push your claims, enforce +your rights, refuse to be thrust back, never make +false steps, put faith in the few and doubt the many. +Remember what I am saying. You will need to recall +it, for you must start (God help you, little one!) +with all the world against you! Yes, all the world +against you" ...</p> + +<p>A sudden gasp ended Twining's words. His embrace +of Claire relaxed, and he staggered toward the +sofa, which was just behind him. As he sank upon +it, his eyes closed and his head fell sideways. One +hand fluttered about his throat, and he seemed in +straits for breath. Claire was greatly terrified. She +thought that to be death which was merely a transient +pause of vitality. The rough gust will bow the +frailer tree, and Twining, weary in mind and body, +had made too abrupt drafts upon a temperament far +from robust.</p> + +<p>The child uttered a piercing cry. It summoned +the proscribed Mary Ann from exile in the neighboring +kitchen; it was heard and heeded by Mrs. Twin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>ing, +aloof in some remoter chamber. Yet, before +either had reached the scene of Claire's disquietude, +her father had already pressed the warm hand which +sought his cold one, and had looked at her with a +gaze that wore the glow of recognition.</p> + +<p>"Claire," he soon said, brokenly, and with faint +utterance, "I—I was unwell for a moment—that is +all. Here, little girl, kiss me, and then give me a +glass of water."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Father," said Claire. Her response showed +a joyous relief. She knelt beside him, and put her +lips to his. It was like the good-night kiss she always +gave him, except that she made it longer than +of old. And then she rose to get the glass of water, +hearing footsteps approach.</p> + +<p>As she poured the liquid, with unsteady fingers, a +partial echo of her father's impetuous enjoinder swept +through her mind. "I shall never forget this night," +she told herself. Her silent prophecy proved true. +She never did forget.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Twining's</span> menace was not carried out. There +was no actual reconciliation between husband and +wife, and yet matters slowly rearranged themselves. +The domestic machinery, being again set moving, +went at first in a lame, spasmodic way, as though +jarred and strained through all its wheel-work. But +by degrees the old order of things returned. And +yet a marked change, in one respect at least, was always +afterward evident. Mrs. Twining had received +a clear admonition, and she was discreet enough permanently +to regard it. She still dealt in her former +slurs and innuendoes; the leopard could not change +its spots; no such radical reformation was naturally +to be expected. But Twining had put forth his protest; +he had shown very plainly that his endurance +had its limits, and through all the years that followed, +his wife never lost sight of this vivid little +fact. She had been seriously frightened, and the +fright left its vibration of warning as long as she and +her husband dwelt under the same roof. Her sting +had by no means been extracted, but its point was +blunter and its poison less irritant. She never again +struck Claire. She was sometimes very imperious +to her daughter, and very acrimonious as well. But +in her conduct there was now a sombre acknowledgment +of curtailed authority,—an under-current of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +concession, occasionally rather faint, it is true, yet +always operative.</p> + +<p>During the next year the family deserted One-Hundred-and-Twelfth +Street for a new place of +abode. Twining received a few extra hundreds as +earnest of shadowy thousands promised him by a +glib-tongued rogue who was to appall the medical +world with a wondrous compound that must soon +rob half the diseases known to pathology of their +last terrors. The elixir was to be "placed handsomely +on the market," and toward this elegant enterprise +poor Twining gave serious aid. For the +lump of savings that went from him, however, he +was paid only a tithe of his rash investment. One +day he learned that the humane chemist had fled +from the scene of his proposed benignities, and a little +later came the drear discovery that his miraculous +potion was merely an unskillful blending of two +or three common specifics with as many popular +nervines.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the halcyon promise of bettered fortunes +had induced Twining to secure easier quarters. +For several months he set his household gods within +apartments on the second floor of a shapely brownstone +residence in a central side-street. This was +really a decisive move toward greater social importance. +The very tone of his upholstery bespoke a +distinct rise in life. There was not a hair-cloth sofa +in his pretty suite of chambers. The furniture was +tufted and modish; one or two glowing grates replaced +the dark awkwardness of stoves; draughts +were an abolished evil; to sup on burnt beefsteak +had grown a shunned memory, since the family now +dined at six o'clock each evening in a lower room,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +where they had a small table all to themselves, and +ate a repast served in courses with a distinct air of +fashion, if not always cooked after the loftier methods. +Here they met other groups at other small +tables, and bowed to them with the bland nod of co-sharers +in worldly comfort. It was all a most noteworthy +change for the Twinings, and its effect upon +Mrs. Twining was no less obvious than acute. She +seemed to clutch the new favors of fate with a mingled +greed and distrust. She was like one who +crushes thirstily between his lips a luscious fruit, +won by theft, and thought to be watched with the +intent of quick seizure.</p> + +<p>She had already quite lost faith in anything like +the permanence of her husband's good fortune. "I'd +better make hay while the sun shines," she would +exclaim, with a burst of laughter that had, as usual, +no touch of mirth in it. "Lord knows when it'll +end. I'm sure I hope never. Don't think I'm +croaking. Gracious me, no! But even the Five +Points won't seem so bad, after this. They say +every dog has his day, don't they, Francis? So, all +right; if mine's a short day, I'll be up and doing +while it lasts."</p> + +<p>She was undoubtedly up and doing. She carried +her large frame with a more assertive majesty; she +aired one or two fresh gowns with a loud ostentation; +she had a little quarrel with a fellow-lodger of +her own sex about the prevailing fashion in bonnets, +and said so many personal things during the contest +that her adversary, who was a person with nerves, +retired in tearful disarray. On more than one Sunday +morning she induced her husband to walk with +her along Fifth Avenue and "see the churches come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +out." At such times she would lean upon his arm, +grandly indifferent to the fact that her stature overtopped +his own, and stare with her severe black eyes +at all the passing phases of costume. It is probable +that the pair made a very grotesque picture on these +occasions, since all that implied refinement in the +man's face and demeanor must have acquired a fatal +stamp of insignificance beside the woman's pretension +of carriage and raw spruceness of apparel. But +Mrs. Twining was making her hay, as she has told +us, while the sun shone, and it is hardly strange that +she should not be critical as to the exact quality of +her crop. A good deal of rough experience in the +woes of dearth and drouth had, naturally, not made +her a fastidious harvester.</p> + +<p>Claire, meanwhile, had begun to feel as if she +dwelt on quite a new sort of planet. Her environment +had lost every trace of its former dullness. Its +neutral shades had freshened into brilliant and exciting +tints. Little Mrs. Carmichael, with her hoard +of memories stowed away like old brocades in a +scented chest, had herself faded off into a memory +as dim as these. Claire had of late become one of +the pupils in a large, well-reputed school, where she +met girls of all ages and characters, but seemingly of +only a single social rank. The academy was superintended +by a magnificent lady in chronic black corded-silk, +whose rich rustle was heard for a half minute +before she entered each of her various class-rooms +and held bits of whispered converse with the instructresses +under her serene sway. Her name was +Mrs. Arcularius, and its fine rhythmical polysyllable +seemed to symbolize the dignity of its owner's slow +walk, the majesty of her arched nose and gold eye-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>glasses, +and the white breadth of her forehead, from +which the gray tresses were rolled backward in high +solidness, with quite a regal effect of hair-dressing. +This lady was the direct contra-type of Mrs. Carmichael. +It was widely recorded of her that she had +once been a gentlewoman of independent wealth, had +chanced upon adverse times, and had for this reason +become the proprietress of a school. But she had +made her grand friends pay the penalty of her misfortunes; +she had acquired the skill of using them +as an advertisement of her venture at self-support. +She had not gone up to One-Hundred-and-Twelfth +Street and mourned their loss; she had stayed in +Twenty-Third Street, and suffered their children, little +and big, to come unto her. She had at first graciously +allowed herself to be pitied for her reverses, +but she had always possessed the art of handing back +their patronage to those who proffered it, in the +wholly altered form of a gracious condescension from +herself. This is a very clever thing to do; it is a +thing which they alone know how to do who know +how to fall from high places with a self-saving rebound; +and Mrs. Arcularius, who was a decidedly +ignorant woman, was also a marvelously clever one. +She knew rather less, in a strictly educational sense, +than poor, unsuccessful Mrs. Carmichael. She had +been a friend of Mrs. Carmichael's in the latter's +gladsome days, but she was now not even aware +that her old associate was teaching school anywhere. +Everybody was aware, on the other hand, that Mrs. +Arcularius was teaching school, and just where she +was teaching it. Poverty had crushed one; it had +stimulated the other. Mrs. Arcularius was now exceedingly +particular as regarded her visiting-book.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +She was a conspicuous figure at the most select receptions. +Whether the fact that she presided over +a fashionable school had made her lose caste or no, +she chose secretly to believe that it had, and for this +reason let her voluminous black silk robes rustle only +in the most irreproachable assemblages.</p> + +<p>She greatly desired that her pupils should all bear +the sacred sign of aristocratic parentage. She did +not object to the offspring of struggling plutocrats; +for she was wise in her generation, and had seen more +than one costly-laden camel squeeze itself through a +needle's eye straight into the kingdom of the blessed. +But she had strong objections to having her school +lose tone. Above all things, this was her dread and +abhorrence.</p> + +<p>And therefore she had been covertly distressed by +the application of Twining for his daughter's admission. +She had "placed" him before he had spoken +three words to her. She always "placed" with equal +speed everybody whom she met for the first time. He +was a decayed foreigner, and she abominated decayed +foreigners. He was a person who wanted to make his +common little daughter profit by the prestige of her +establishment, and she had a like distaste for all persons +of this class. She looked at Claire's attire, and +inwardly shivered. The girl had on a frock cut and +trimmed in a way that struck her observer as positively +satanic. The lovely natural wave of her hair +had been tortured by her mother into long ringlets, +made sleek and firm under the stiffening spell of +sugar-and-water, and pendant about her shoulders +with a graceless vertical primness. But the head and +front of the poor child's offending was, in the sight of +her new critic, a hat which Mrs. Twining esteemed a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +triumph of taste, which she had bought as a great bargain +the day before, and which was half-smothered, +from crown to brim, in small white roses, each bearing +a little movable glass bead that was meant to imitate +a dew-drop.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Arcularius decided, however, to receive Claire +as one of her pupils. There had been a falling-off, of +late, in their list. A good many sweet girl-graduates +had gone off at her last commencement day. Besides, +it was absurd to suppose that any flock could be kept +from an incidental black sheep or so. More than this, +there was a fascinating intelligence about Claire's +face, with its two dark-blue stars of eyes, and a musical +sorcery in the child's timid tones when she spoke, +that no <i>diablerie</i> of millinery could dispel.</p> + +<p>It soon proved that Claire's fellow-scholars were +far from sharing this latter opinion. She was received +among them with haughty coolness, varied by +incidental giggles. She suffered three days of silent +torture, and at their end told her father, in a passion +of tears, that he must take her away from Mrs. Arcularius's +school. The girls there all despised her +and laughed at her; hardly one of them had yet even +spoken to her; they seemed to think her beneath +them; it was horrible; she could not stand it; it was +just as if she had some disease and they were all +afraid of catching it from her.</p> + +<p>"There is one girl," sobbed Claire, with her arms +round her father's neck and her head on his dear, +kindly breast, "that I know I shall slap or throw +something at if I stay. She has red hair and very +white skin, with little freckles all over it, and she is +quite fat. She wears a different dress every day, and +it's always something handsome but queer to look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +at.... I heard her tell another girl that all her +clothes came from Paris. She brings two bananas +for lunch, and long cakes spread over with chocolate, +that spirt out something soft and yellow, like custard, +when she bites into them, and soil her fingers.... +Well, Father, that girl sits near me, and she is +always making fun of me behind my back, and whispering +things about me to the others that make them +burst out laughing and watch me from the corners +of their eyes.... Of course this is only at recess, but +at all times, Father, I can feel how they are thinking +that I have no right, no business among them.... +And perhaps I haven't. Oh, Father, I want to be a +lady as much as you want me to be one, but ... isn't +there some other way of learning how? If you'll only +take me from that dreadful place, I'll ... I'll go +anywhere else you please!"</p> + +<p>Indignant, yet pierced with sympathy for his darling, +Twining promised her that she should go back +no more to Mrs. Arcularius's.</p> + +<p>Claire kissed him, and then put her wet cheek +against his. But an instant later she lifted her head. +She had thought of her mother, who was paying one +of their fellow-boarders a visit that evening, and at +this very moment was stating to her hostess, with a +sort of saturnine braggadocio, that Claire's new school +"ought to be a regular first-class one, and no mistake, +for it was going to cost a regular first-class kind +of a price."</p> + +<p>"But Mother?" said Claire, in anxious query, +"what will <i>she</i> say, Father?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind what your mother will say, my dear," +answered Twining, in his gentle undertone. And +Claire remembered a certain night in One-Hundred-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>and-Twelfth Street,—a +night which she had never +really forgotten, as we know, and whose incident was +fated sharply to revisit her through many an eventful +year yet unlived.</p> + +<p>But Claire's tears were scarcely dried before she +regretted the promise won from her father, and asked +him to revoke it. Her young face looked pale and +resolute as she did so. Her brief burst of weakness +had passed. The ambition to seize and hold any +near means of advancement was already no weak impulse +in her youthful being. As it afterward struck +the great key-note of her life, and became the source +of every discord or harmony which that life was to +contain, so now its force had begun to stir secret centres +and to prelude the steady influence which must +soon impel and sway her.</p> + +<p>"Let me try a little while longer, Father," she +said, standing near him and holding his hand. Her +head was slightly thrown backward; her mouth was +grave and firm. She was so slender and fragile that +this solemn mood might have made one think, as he +regarded her, of a lily that had found some art to +cast aside its droop, while all its lightsome traits of +stem or petal still remained.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I mean it, Father," she continued, with a +very deep seriousness. "I have begun to climb the +hill, and I shan't get tired so soon and sit down to +rest. You told me I must not, and I won't. I do +not want to sit down at all until I shall reach the +top.... But you can help me, if you will; you can +make it easier for me." She pressed his hand. "<i>Will</i> +you make it easier, Father?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" he answered. He spoke the word without +knowing what she meant. He could have spoken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +no other at this moment, with her eyes fixed on him +like that, and her clinging hand tense about his own. +He loved her so well that he would have faced any +peril to save her from any harm. She was his cheer, +his pride, his hope, his happiness. He thought her +the most beautiful little girl in all the world. He +had forgotten to tell himself that her mother made +her look a guy in seeking to make her more pretty. +To him she was always his innocent, blameless idol—his +Claire, whom he had named after his own dead +mother, known only in the idealizing years of early +childhood. He never looked into her face without +feeling his heart beat a trifle quicker. He had been +in love with her from the time when he first held her, +a new-born baby, and he was in love with her still. +It was a love which had the best glow and thrill of +those dramatic passions that make our tales, our tragedies, +and our epics, only that by absence of the one +fevered sentiment knit and kinned with these, it so +gained in purity and unselfishness as to strip from +all hint of over-praise the holier epithet of divine.</p> + +<p>Naturally enough came Twining's afterthought.</p> + +<p>"What is it that I can do for you, Claire?" he +asked. "How <i>can</i> I make it easier?"</p> + +<p>"In this way, Father. Listen. I want to dress +differently at school. I want to wear another frock—I +know which one—I am afraid you wouldn't recollect +which it is if I told you. But it is not the pink +merino which I have on now. Pink merino is not +nice. And my new hat with the white roses is not +nice, either. I didn't think of this till I noticed how +the other girls dressed at Mrs. Arcularius's. Then I +remembered that mine was something very like the +style in which Mrs. Halloran used to dress her little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +girl, Bridget, every Sunday. You do recollect Mrs. +Halloran, don't you Father? Her husband used to +work on one of the Harlem boats, and they lived +down near the river in that small red house, and +there was a bee-hive in the garden, and a horrid bull-dog +that used to jump out of his kennel if he heard +the least noise, and bark so, and try to break his +chain. But little Bridget used to have pink kid shoes, +though, to match her dress, and very proud they +made her. And her hair was curled in that stiff +way, just as Mother curls mine. Now, Father, I +want you to let me brush all the curl out of my hair +except what it has of its own free choice, and to let +me just tie it in a bunch behind with a dark ribbon, +and to let me wear my brown bonnet, which is rather +shabby, perhaps, though I don't mind that. And if +Mother cares to buy me anything new, I want you to +go with us—say some Saturday evening when the +stores keep open—and to let me use my own taste +in choosing quiet and pretty things. But that will +be afterward. I'd like you to think, just now, only +about to-morrow, you know. I'd like"—But there +Twining stopped her with a kiss. He was smiling, +but his eyes were moist.</p> + +<p>"You shan't dress like little Bridget Halloran any +longer, Claire, darling," he said. "I'll see to it as +soon as your mother returns."</p> + +<p>He kept his word. When Mrs. Twining reappeared +he sent Claire out of the room. She knew a +storm was coming; she was glad to be away while it +broke and raged. She went as far away as possible, +into her own bedroom, two chambers off, closing the +intermediate doors. Once, while waiting here, she +heard the smothered sound of a high, wrathful voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +It was her mother's, no doubt. But she knew that +however hot the conflict, her father had made up his +mind to be victor.</p> + +<p>And he was. The next day Claire went to Mrs. +Arcularius's without her white roses or her pink +merino.</p> + +<p>"You look for all the world like a charity-child," +her mother said to her, in gruff leave-taking. "Still, +I don't s'pose it matters any. You might as well +practice for a short spell beforehand."</p> + +<p>Claire's altered raiment produced an immense sensation +among her classmates. Even several of the +teachers showed signs of surprise. The new plainness +of her attire brought out her unquestioned beauty, as +gaudier and ill-blended vestments had before marred +and obscured it. The back-drawn effect of her chestnut +tresses, which were still streaked here and there +with sunny threads, could not be doubted as charming +even by the most prejudiced caviler. Her brow +and temples were shown in their full purity of moulding, +and the eyes beneath them gained poetic tenderness +from this lovely exposure. She was not yet a +girl clothed at all after the dainty manner of the +girls about her, but she was at least no longer spoiled +and hampered by unbecoming and vulgar garments. +Everybody felt this promptly, and Claire herself soon +recognized, by an intuition which always stood vassal +to her singularly quick perceptions, that everybody +had felt it.</p> + +<p>This was to be a memorable day with her. It may +seem trivial to employ so august a term when dealing +with one yet on the threshold of our truly vital episodes, +but, after all, there is a reality about the chagrins +and victories of childhood which is none the less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +potent while both exist because both must shortly +drop into shadow before harsher pangs and warmer +transports. Claire had resolved to be a kind of miniature +heroine if occasion should ask her to play that +part; and she had a conviction, based on very fair +grounds of reasoning, that some such demand might +be made of her before the school-exercises for that +day should reach their end.</p> + +<p>Nor was she wrong. The recitations began, and +were continued under various teachers until the +twelve o'clock recess. Claire had suffered hitherto +from the embarrassments of her surroundings, as regarded +any frank assertion of what she knew and just +how she knew it. But to-day she had conquered embarrassment; +she was on her mettle, as the phrase +goes; it was the main aim of her meditated plan to +let herself be browbeaten in no particular, and the +excitement born of this resolve had put her best faculties +into nimble readiness.</p> + +<p>Her understanding was of the quality beloved by +instructors; it had a prehensile trait; it seized things +and clung to them. The alarm of Mrs. Carmichael +lest her pupil should unmask her elegant deficiencies +had been no unfounded one. This lady's tuition of +Claire had been but a series of suggestions, each of +which the girl had rapidly tracked to its lair of remoter +truth. Mrs. Carmichael had pointed her the +path—quite often, it must be owned, with a somewhat +faltering finger—and she had glided whither it +led at a pace no less swift than secure. This was +especially true of the French language, for which her +aptitude was phenomenal, and which, under new conditions +of instruction, she soon almost mastered. As +a matter of mere fact, she had been placed, at pres<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>ent, +among her inferiors in knowledge. She was +much more advanced than the class of superb young +misses who had wounded her with their callow disdain. +And to-day she made this tellingly evident. +Her answers came placid, self-assured, unhesitating. +She sat, all through the morning, with hands folded +together in her lap, and with looks that paid no seeming +heed to any of her associates. Some of them +were extremely stupid. They gave stammering responses, +or rattled off the wrong thing with fatal +glibness, or preserved that stolid silence which is the +most naked candor of ignorance. The freckled girl, +who ate bananas, cut an especially dull figure. +Through some novel freak of parental indulgence she +had been permitted to wear, this morning, a ring of +clustered sapphires and diamonds, very beautiful and +precious; and this she turned and re-turned, while +puckering her forehead, whenever a question was put +to her, as though the fair bauble might prove talismanic +and show her some royal road out of learning's +tangled mazes. No one appeared to think her replies +particularly blundering or fatuous. Her ring, and +her last new Parisian gown, and the luxurious prospect +of her approaching lunch, seemed to invest even +her weak wit with prestige. Claire felt it to be somehow +in the air that this maiden's mental poverty +should receive nothing except respectful sympathy +from her fellows. Fortune does not shower every +known gift on one favorite; that seemed to be tacitly +understood. When she floundered in a French verb, +or came to dire grief in compound fractions, the imbecility +provoked no laughter; it bore a sort of gilded +pardonableness, like the peccadillo of a princess.</p> + +<p>When recess came, Claire had distinguished her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>self. +Everybody was convinced that her powers of +mind were much above the common. Two of the +teachers, both ladies of gentle bearing and kindly +disposition, came to her side, and cheered her with +a few words of complimentary encouragement. The +grand Mrs. Arcularius did not come; she was elsewhere, +in her elegant little reception-room; she had +not yet heard of her new pupil's handsome exploits. +But if she had already heard of them she would have +paid Claire no congratulations. Good scholarship, she +would have argued, with splendid egotism, was in this +case a form of gratitude to which she was of course +amply entitled, since she had allowed Twining the +honor of seeing her autograph on his daughter's future +receipted bills.</p> + +<p>During the first portion of the recess hour Claire +ate her modest lunch, choking it down with strong +reluctance. But one teacher now remained in the +large class-room, and she was closely occupied in the +examination of some written exercises. The girls +were gathered here and there, among the files of desks, +in whispering groups. They were all discussing +Claire; she herself knew it; an instinct told her so. +She was very much excited, but outwardly quite calm. +The girls no longer stared at her; not a single giggle +now broke the air; they had been impressed, startled, +and perhaps a little awed as well; their pariah had +turned out a sort of notability; she had clad herself +in a sudden armor of cool defiance against impudence. +They might have regarded her lately-revealed endowments +as a queerness collateral with the eccentric +quality of her clothing. But the pink robe, the brittle-looking +curls, the beflowered hat, had vanished +and left them no chance for such associative ridicule.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +There had been a transformation, abrupt and baffling. +Claire was not going to be their butt; of this there +was no doubt; she must either be accepted as an +equal, or avoided as an inferior; she could no longer +hold the position of a target for their covert raillery.</p> + +<p>The freckled girl, of the sumptuous mid-day meal, +however, preserved opposite opinions. Her name +was Ada Gerrard, and her family was one of great +wealth and distinction. Her elder sister, a mindless +blonde with creamy skin and exuberant figure, had +made a notable English marriage, having wedded no +less a potentate than the young Marquis of Monogram, +heir of a renowned ducal house. Miss Ada +was a leader in her way, and she felt keenly disappointed +by the unforeseen turn of affairs. She had +anticipated prodigious fun out of the new scholar. +She was by nature cruel and arrogant, and she was +now affected as some feline creature that has been +cheated of the prey it has meant to maul and maim.</p> + +<p>Her reddish-hazel eyes, that showed so little white +as to look like two large beads of clouded amber, +and were fringed with scant lashes of lighter red, kept +up a persistent scrutiny of Claire. She was sitting +not far away from the latter, who caught, now and +then, a waft of the delicate violet perfume which exhaled +from her fine foreign apparel. She was occupied +with her epicurean repast, whose dainties she +devoured with a solemn gluttony; but this did not +prevent her from keeping up a little fusillade of +whispers to a friend on whom she had bestowed one +or two bites of luscious cake as a mark of peculiar +clemency.</p> + +<p>The converse was at first low-toned. Claire had +finished her brief refreshment. She had opened a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +book, and maintained at least the semblance of being +engaged in its contents. Suddenly she heard Ada +Gerrard speak these words, in a voice lifted above +her former key, though doubtless meant solely for +her companion's ears:</p> + +<p>"I don't care <i>how</i> much she knows. She's a common +little thing, and <i>I</i> wouldn't notice her if she got +on her knees and begged me to."</p> + +<p>Claire waited a few seconds, with head lowered +above her book. She trembled while she so waited. +The tremor was half from anger, half from intimidation. +She felt, in every fibre of her being, the coarseness +of this speech, but through her sensitive soul +had shot a pang of false shame, dealt by the piercing +sense of contrast between her own humble state and +the probable grandeur and comfort of life which had +fed Ada Gerrard's present superciliousness. But anger +conquered. She ceased to tremble, and closed +her book. Then she rose, quietly, and faced her +classmate. It may have been that the generations +of gentlewomen from which, on her father's side, she +had sprung, helped to nerve and steady her now; +since the primal source of all aristocracy is a cogent +self-assertion, and those races alone gain heights overbrowing +their kind whose first founders have had the +will and vigor to push forward resisted claims.</p> + +<p>Everybody saw her rise. It flashed through the +little throng, in an instant, that something had +spurred her into a course of retaliation. At least +fifteen pairs of eager eyes were leveled upon her +pale face. But she regarded Ada Gerrard only; and +when she spoke, with enough clearness to be heard +in all parts of the room, her first words were addressed +strictly to that special offender.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You say that you will not notice me," Claire began, +"and yet you say it so loudly that I can hear +you, and thus you very plainly contradict yourself; +or, in other words, you try to attract my attention +by speaking a falsehood."</p> + +<p>Here she paused. A dead silence ensued. Many +bewildered looks were exchanged. The presiding +teacher stopped her task, and sat with a gaze of puzzled +alarm fixed upon this resolute young combatant. +Ada Gerrard flushed crimson, and ceased to discuss +her savory confections.</p> + +<p>Claire's voice quivered as she now proceeded, but +she quickly controlled this perturbed sign: "I do +not think there is much chance of my begging you +on my knees to notice me," she said. "But I might +be tempted to take such a way of begging that you +would try and help me to forget, as long as I remain +here, how I have had the ill-luck of being thrown +near anyone so unkind, so impudent, and so vulgar +as yourself."</p> + +<p>Ada Gerrard sprang to her feet as the last calm +word sounded from Claire's lips. She had clenched +both of her plump hands, and there was a wrathful +scowl on her face. Several titters were heard from +her companions; they seemed to sting her; it was +impossible for her to fail in perceiving that she had +met an adversary of twice her own prowess. She +knew to which side the sympathy had veered; all +her imposing superiority in the way of dress, of diet, +of home-splendor, of titled kindred, were momentarily +as nothing beside Claire's placid antagonism. +She was only an ugly girl in an ugly rage, who had +behaved insolently and been rebuked with justice; +while Claire, pale, unflinching, wholly in the right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +and wholly aware of it, her drawbacks of uncouth +costume no longer present, her beauty a fact beyond +dispute, her intelligence a recent discovery and a +sharp surprise, stood clad with the dignity of easy +and complete conquest.</p> + +<p>Ada Gerrard suddenly burst into tears. They +were very irate tears; there was not the least tincture +of remorse or shame in them. She flung herself +back into her chair, and covered her face for several +minutes while she wept.</p> + +<p>Claire watched her, tranquilly, for a little while. +Then she sat down again and reopened her book. +An intense silence reigned, broken by the sobs of +Ada Gerrard. Claire leaned her head on her hand, +feigning abrupt absorption in the page that she regarded, +and feigning it very well. But her mind +was in a secret whirl, now. She was mutely, but +impetuously asking herself: "Will they think I was +right? Will they take my part? Will they treat +me any more kindly, or just as before?"</p> + +<p>These silent, pathetic queries were fated to receive +a speedy answer. Before the school hours of that +same day had ended, the ostracism which had so +wrung poor Claire's spirit was in a measure ended +likewise. Less than a week had elapsed before she +was on friendly terms with a number of her classmates. +A little adverse clique soon shaped itself +against her. Ada Gerrard, fiercely unforgiving, +headed this hostile faction; its remaining members +were a few stanch personal adherents who had never +been able to resist the dazzling fascination of Miss +Gerrard's toilets and lunches. But this opposing element +was not actively inimical. Claire's party had +the strength of multitude and the courage of its opin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>ions. +Still, its members were by no means ardent +devotees; they sometimes hurt her with the sly stab +of patronage, and they often gave her furtively to +understand that her claims upon their favor were of +a sort which they practically recognized without theoretically +approving.</p> + +<p>It would be hard to define just how they conveyed +this impression. And yet Claire frequently felt its +weight, like that of some vague tyranny which offers +no tangible excuse for revolt. She could neither realize +nor estimate the force with which she had been +thrown into contact. Her years were yet too few, +her experience was yet too limited; nor was the +force manifest in active strength at Mrs. Arcularius's +school, a narrow enough theatre for its exercise, and +one where its full-grown momentum must of necessity +dwindle into something like mere juvenile parody. +Claire was yet to learn with how much rank +haste its evil growth had sprung up in the big metropolis +outside, thwarting and clogging any pure development +of what has been called the republican +idea, and making us sometimes bitterly wonder if +the great dead philosophers were not tricked, after +all, by wills-o'-the-wisp no less lovely than elusive.</p> + +<p>But there were a few girls who met Claire on a +perfectly equal footing, and left from their intercourse, +at all times, the least frosty sparkle of condescension. +Some of these may or may not consciously +have undertaken their rôles. But with one, +past doubt, and for excellent reasons, the kindly +impulse was in every way spontaneous. The name +of this pupil was Sophia Bergemann. She professed +a deep fondness for Claire, and it was evidently sincere. +She belonged among Mrs. Arcularius's toler<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>ated +plutocrats. Her father was a German brewer +who had made a very large fortune out of lager-beer, +and who dwelt in Hoboken, where he had built an +immense house on spacious grounds. It was said +that the lawns were adorned with statues in bronze +and marble, and that the main drawing-room of the +mansion was frescoed with a design representing Germany +offering a tankard of foaming beer to Columbia, +in colossal sociability. But the latter statement +may have been only the caustic invention of Sophia's +foes. She was stoutly disapproved by the conservative +element, and this fact had helped to make her so +warm a supporter of Claire. Being at daggers drawn +with Ada Gerrard, she naturally hailed Claire's public +rebuke with rapture, and immediately became her +stanch ally.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid you'd stay meek and mild right +straight along, just as you began," she afterward confessed. +"Somehow you looked as if you hadn't got +any spunk. And I do like spunk. I believe in it." +This article of faith Sophia had several times frankly +verified. She had once pulled the ear of her fellow-pupil, +and again narrowly escaped expulsion by slapping +another's face. She had a buxom figure, a +broad-blown countenance, nearly as round as a moon +at the full, solid cheeks of constant vivid coloring, +and hair so yellow that its keen tint blent with her +brilliant complexion in producing the effect of an expensive +wax doll enlarged and animated. She was +drearily stupid at all her lessons, rivaling Ada Gerrard +as the regnant ignoramus of the academy. Her +gestures were painfully awkward; her walk was a +cumbrous prance; she seemed incapable of seating +herself without an elastic bounce. She grew very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +fond of Claire, as weeks went on, and gave her repeated +invitations to pass a portion of the summer +holidays at the grand Hoboken abode.</p> + +<p>But before the summer holidays arrived, Claire +had left Mrs. Arcularius's school for good. Twining +had awakened to one more dismayed perception of +having been grossly duped; the reed on which he +had leaned had snapped beneath him; prompt retrenchments +became inevitable; his poor ventured +thousands were dissolved, as a last ironical sort of +ingredient, in the worthless elixir.</p> + +<p>For a long time his affairs stood miserably involved. +His innocent share in a matter of imposture +and chicanery was misconstrued and sharply +censured by his employers. He was discharged from +his clerkship, and put face to face with the worst +threats of need. Mrs. Twining, forced to resign her +briefly-worn robes of ease for the old garb of drudgery, +spared no zeal in proving herself not to have +been a false prophetess of disaster.</p> + +<p>"I ain't a bit surprised," she would declare, with +one of her thin, acid laughs. "Mercy, no! Don't +mind me. I was prepared for it, Francis. So here +we are over in Jersey City, and a pretty shabby part +of it, too! Oh, well, it's better'n keeping a peanut-stand, +anyhow. You'll bring me there, some day; +you're bound to. I ain't eaten a peanut in ever so +long. I'm saving my taste for 'em."</p> + +<p>Twining secretly writhed under these thrusts. +His meagre stock of money was slipping from him +daily. But he was still cheerful. The tough texture +of his optimism still refused to be rent. A few +more years, and its severance must come, warp and +woof, but as yet the sturdy fibres held good against +every strain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>He secured another position at last. The salary, +smaller than before, was at least regular. But the +quarters in Jersey City, though humble and restricted, +made too strong an annual drain upon his +impoverished purse. After two years of pitiful +struggle, the family removed to Greenpoint. Claire +was then sixteen. But before this new change occurred, +Twining's evil genius had again tempted him, +and with the usual malign result. He trusted a fellow-man +once more, and once more he was confounded. +This time it was of necessity a much +smaller hazard. Only three hundred dollars went, +though millions were of course to be ultimately realized. +One day a sallow, elderly man, with eyes +bleared from dissipation and clothes that hung glazed +round a bony figure, fell in with poor Twining, and +talked to him glibly about a miraculous patent. It +concerned the giving of signals on railroads by an +electrical process. It was to effect a sublime security +against all future accidents of travel by land. A few +primary steps were to be taken before this marvel +should obtain the indorsements of eager capitalists. +The sallow little man, in three interviews, during +which he cleverly contrived not to smell too strongly +of liquor, convinced Twining that he was a neglected +genius. The money was given him, and a receipt for +it was signed with a hand whose insecurity passed for +grateful emotion. But this origin might have been +ascribed with more truth to the rheumy moisture that +filled the recipient's eyes when he placed a plump +roll of bills within his threadbare waistcoat-pocket. +Twining never saw him after that eventful conference. +He died about three weeks later of delirium +tremens in a city hospital. It was his seventh attack.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>This fresh blow leveled Twining. Neither his +wife nor his child ever knew of it. But it struck +into him a sort of terror at himself from which he +never recovered. He had trusted humanity for the +last time. He still remained amiable, genial, gentle. +But despair had turned his heart to lead. Both +Claire and Mrs. Twining saw the change, though ignorant +of its cause. The Greenpoint epoch had now +begun.</p> + +<p>In Jersey City Claire had been sent to a public +school. Here she had met genuine daughters of the +people. Some of them were almost in rags; others +represented thrifty home-surroundings; all were very +different from the sleek children of wealth and caste +whom she had known at Mrs. Arcularius's. At first +she suffered torments of disgust. But by degrees +the slow, continual pressure of habit wore away the +edge of her distaste, as a constant sea-wash will +blunt the rim of a shell. She absorbed herself in +study, made rapid progress, and learned much that a +fashionable school would have left untaught.</p> + +<p>Her fastidiousness in a measure vanished. A good +deal of the old acquired nicety stayed, but her age +was impressionable, and ceaseless contact with rough +manners and crude opinions wrought its certain effect. +She was now rubbing against taffetas, and before +it had been against silk. She was hearing the +boorish laugh and the slovenly idiom to-day, when +yesterday she had heard the mirth of culture and the +phrase of decorum. Her young life had thus far been +a strange discord of opposing influences. She felt +this in periods of half-bewildered retrospect, and +sometimes with moods of passionate melancholy as +well. The intense contrast of the changes through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +which she had passed, disheartened while it stimulated +her. She meant to try her best; she wanted +with all her energy to gain secure and permanent elevation; +she had no intent of sitting down and resting +before she reached the top of the hill, for her +father's heated words of admonition and entreaty yet +swept their insistent echo through her spirit.</p> + +<p>But the hill seemed a sheer steep, defiant of any +foothold. If she was eager to ascend, loath to rest, +full of splendid activity, what mattered these favoring +conditions when circumstances turned them to +mockery?</p> + +<p>They were at Greenpoint, now. They had been +there three years. Claire was nineteen. Her school +days had ended. They could no longer afford to +keep a servant; she had to help her mother in all +menial domestic offices. She had to bake, to sweep, +to wash, to sew. She hated the place; she hated the +life. But she saw her father's hidden despair, and so +hid her own. More than this, she trembled at certain +signs that his health was failing. He would +have seizures of sudden weakness at morning or +night; she feared to ask him whether they also occurred +when he was absent at his business, lest he +might suspect the acute nature of her anxiety, and +so acquire new cause for worriment.</p> + +<p>She loved him more than ever. The dread of his +loss would steal with ghastly intrusion along her +dreams at night. She thought of her grim, acrimonious +mother, and said to herself: 'If he should die! +It would be terrible! I should be worse than +alone!' Every kiss that she gave him took a more +clinging fondness.</p> + +<p>He never spoke of his future. He never spoke of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +hers. She understood why. Each always met the +other with a smile. There was something beautiful +in their reciprocal deceit. They heard the dead +leaves crackle under their footsteps, but they strove +to talk as if the boughs were in bud.</p> + +<p>And so the weeks went on. The bitterness of their +second winter in Greenpoint had now yielded to the +mildness of a second spring. But the vernal change +brought no cheer to Claire. In the little yellowish-drab +wooden house where they dwelt, with lumber-yards +and sloop-wharves blocking all view of the +river, with stupid, haggling neighbors on either side +of them, with ugliness and stagnation and poverty at +arm's-reach, was a girl so weighed upon and crushed +by the stern arbitraments of want, that she often felt +herself as much a captive as if she could not have +moved a limb without hearing the clank of a chain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> afternoon Claire said to her mother: "I intend +to take a little holiday. I am going out for a +walk." Mrs. Twining and her daughter were in the +kitchen when this very novel announcement was +made. The elder lady had just taken her preliminary +steps toward the getting of supper. She let her +big knife remain bedded in the side of a large, soggy +potato that she was peeling, and glanced up at Claire +with her quick black eye. A long spiral of skin hung +from the half-pared vegetable. It seemed to denote +with peculiar aptness the paralyzing effect of Mrs. +Twining's astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Going to take a holiday, are you?" she exclaimed, +with the favorite jerky, joyless laugh. +"And what am <i>I</i> going to do, if you please? Stay +at home, no doubt, and slave over this stove till +supper's cooked. Hey?"</p> + +<p>"I cooked the supper yesterday," said Claire, "and +you vowed that everything I had done was bad, and +that I should never make myself so smart again. I +recollect your exact words—'make myself so smart,'" +continued Claire, with cutting fidelity of quotation. +"I would readily do the whole cooking every afternoon, +on Father's account. For he likes the food +I prepare better than he likes what you prepare. +There's no doubt about that."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, not a bit," returned Mrs. Twining, who +could never cow her daughter nowadays, and avoided +all open skirmishes with Claire, preferring to fire her +volleys under cover of ambiguous sneers, being sure +of rout in any fair-fought engagement. "Not a bit, +certainly. When he knows you've pottered away at +anything, he'll eat it and smack his lips over it +whether it's roasted to a cinder, or as raw as a fresh +clam."</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad to hear you say so," returned +Claire, with a weary little smile. "It's pleasant to +think Father loves me like that."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining vigorously resumed work on her potato, +speaking at the same time. "Pity about both +o' you two, I <i>do</i> declare," she retorted, lapsing into +the vernacular with which she loved to accompany +her worst gibes. "'Pears to me that if he's so fond +o' <i>you</i> he mightn't have made you the poor mean +fag at nineteen that he's made o' me at forty-four; +and if you are so fond o' <i>him</i>, why, you might try +and catch a decent husband, with a few dollars in his +pocket, to raise up the family out o' the mud and +muck Francis Twining's got it in."</p> + +<p>Claire's eyes flashed a little; but she was not specially +angered; she was so used to this kind of verbal +savagery.</p> + +<p>"Father never meant anything but good to either +of us," she said, "and you know it. I don't want to +hear you speak against him when he is away and +can't defend himself. <i>I</i> am able to defend him, if I +choose. I think you know that, Mother, by this time. +I'm going out, as I told you. I shall be back rather +soon, I suppose."</p> + +<p>She left the kitchen, and presently the house as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +well. She might have stayed to wrangle; but she +knew that would be for no purpose. She had stood +up for her loved father so often, and always with the +same results. Her wit was quicker than her mother's; +it could thrust deeper and parry more dexterously; +but she was very tired of this aimless warfare, +where she got wounds that she hid and gave wounds +that it cost her only pain to deal. She had no definite +idea whither she would go, on quitting the +house. At first she took her way through the cheap +and vulgar main street of Greenpoint. It was the +first real day of Spring; the air was bland; something +had called her forth to breathe it, even here in +this dreary spot. She did not quite know whence +the silent summons had come. She was by no means +sure if it were her own youth that had called her, conspiring +in some subtile way with the push of leaves +and grasses out toward the strengthened sunshine. +She had felt old and tired, of late; the monotony of +toil had dulled her spirits; her mother's arrowy slurs +had pierced and hurt her more than she guessed. +But the mild atmosphere, stirred by tender breezes, +made it pleasant to be abroad, even in this malodorous +thoroughfare.</p> + +<p>Everything was dull and common. It seemed a +sort of beautiful outrage that the pure, misty blue +of the afternoon sky should arch so contentedly over +these slimy gutters, shabby tenements, dirty children, +and neglected sidewalks. A German woman jostled +against her as she pressed onward; the woman carried +a pail of liquid refuse, and issued from a near doorway. +She had a tawdry red bow at her throat, one +or two smaller bows to match it in her tossed blonde +hair, and an immense flat water-curl glued against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +either temple, with the effect of some old hieroglyph. +She was a beer-seller's wife, and she was about to +empty her vessel of stale malt upon the neighboring +cobble-stones. But the random speed of her gait +caused her to collide abruptly with Claire's passing +figure, and some of the contents of her pail shot out +upon the latter's dress, making an instant stain. +Claire paused, and looked at the woman with a slight +annoyed motion of the head. The offender was a +high-tempered person; it was currently whispered by +members of their special Teuton clique that her husband +was a rank socialist who had been forced to fly +the police of his native town overseas, and that she +shared in secret his rebellious opinions. This may or +may not have been truth; but the woman flung her +pailful fiercely into the street, and then as fiercely +confronted Claire.</p> + +<p>"Vell, vat you got to say?" she cried, shrilly. +"You looks at me as if I vass to blame for you running +against me, ain't it? I see you before. You +ain't much, annerhow. You got a big lot uf airs; +you valks shust like a grant laty." Here the virago +dropped her pail, set a hand on either hip, and attempted, +with sad lack of success, while two long, +tarnished ear-rings oscillated in her big, flushed ears, +to imitate Claire's really graceful walk. "Sho," she +continued, in sarcastic explanation of her parody. +"You valks jush sho! Bud you ain't much. You +ain't no laty. You better stop ride avay treing to +be one. Dot's too thin, dot iss. Aha, you're off. +I t'ought I'd freiden you!"</p> + +<p>Claire was indeed "off," and moving somewhat +briskly, too. She had grown rather white. This +rude encounter left a harsh memory behind it. For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +some time she could not dissipate the recollection of +the German jade's insolence.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she was right," her set lips at length +murmured. "I am <i>not</i> a lady. I <i>had</i> better stop +right away trying to be one."</p> + +<p>A little later she had quitted the main street of the +town, and gained an open expanse at whose verge +the houses stood with wide gaps between them, as +though a forlorn effort had been made to conquer +vacancy by ugliness. But vacancy had won the fight; +space never resisted time with more complete conquest. +An immense drab plain, shorn of the least +green feature, now stretched before Claire's gaze. On +one hand, like a slow, interminable snake, wound a +black thread of slimy creek, flanked by ragged embankments +of crumbling clay. On the other hand +was a dull, bare sweep, unrelieved by even a single +hut. Far to the eastward, facing Claire, gleamed a +wide assemblage of cottages; this was a settlement +that some wag or optimist, whichever he may have +been, had long ago named Blissville.</p> + +<p>Claire had a fanciful thought, now, as she walked +along the hard macadamized road which the incessant +trains of funerals took toward Calvary, that Blissville, +seen so distantly at the end of this treeless, +herbless waste, was like the mirage glimpsed by a +wanderer on a desert. But she might more aptly +have compared the lonely desolation which encompassed +her to those classic fields where the Greek and +Roman dead found their reputed bourne. The shocking +creek would have made an excellent Styx, and +even the most barren imagination could have traced +ready analogy between these monotonous levels of +sun-baked mud and the flowerless lands where disconsolate +shades were supposed to wander.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tender amethyst sky, arching over this hideous +spot, alone saved it, to-day, from the last sort of infernal +suggestiveness. An enormous funeral presently +appeared in sight, just as Claire reached a +certain uncouth bridge that spanned a curve of the +impure current. The slow procession of dark carriages +uncoiled itself, so to speak, from the massed +habitations of Greenpoint, and drew gradually nearer +without yet revealing its final vehicle. It was a mortuary +cavalcade of phenomenal length, even for the +present place, where New York quite often sends +some of her worst reprobates to their graves under +conditions of the most imposing solemnity. The +whole retinue was at last unfurled upon the smooth +roadway, along which it crawled with something of +the same serpentine stealthiness as that of the almost +parallel creek. A sombre rivalry seemed evident, +now, between the two differing streams. This blank +tract of repulsive land, so strangely dedicated to +death, had lost every hint of Lethean likeness. The +arrival of the funeral had wrought striking change. +Here we had the modern mode of dealing with death. +It seemed to make paganism wither and vanish. An +old, half-rotten barge, moored in a slushy cove, might +have served for an emblem of the decay and contempt +now fallen upon antique legend. Was this +the melancholy boat that once ferried the ghosts to +Hades? Ah! but if so, the oars were lost, the planks +leaked wofully, and the grim pilot had gone permanently +away into the great shadow-land of all the +dead gods! Claire looked toward the coming funeral, +and shuddered in silence. There seemed so unholy +a contrast between her own fresh, vital maidenhood +and this ghastly, morbid domain. How had her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +healthful young spirit ever courted death, that it +should thus force upon her its continual grisly fellowship? +She placed both elbows on the rough balustrade +of the bridge, leaned her fair girlish chin +against both hands, and stared straight before her +across the bleak heath. Not far off several venturesome +swine were waddling; they were near enough +for their absurd grunts now and then to reach her, +and for her to see the pink flush of their cumbrous +bodies between coarse, soiled hairs, and the earthward +thrust of their long, gray, cylindrical noses. But a +moment later a flock of pigeons suddenly lighted just +at the foot of the bridge, on a little loamy flat. The +sight gave her a thrill of pleasure. It was so odd to +get any bit of beauty here, and each bird was a true +bit of beauty, with its flexible irised neck, its rounded +sleekness, and its rosy feet. Presently the flock began +their rich peculiar coo, and the sound fascinated +Claire as much as their shapes had done. She quite +forgot the advancing funeral; here were color, grace, +and a sort of music. They had fallen to her, as +might be said, from the skies. In a dumb, unformulated +way she wished that more of all three charms +would so fall to her. It was such a wretched doom to +dwell in this abominable suburb. All her youth was +being wasted here. She was already getting rather +old. She was already nearly twenty—four months +of her twentieth year had gone—and she had been +accustomed to think people quite old when they were +twenty. Would it last years longer? Ah! to fly as +those lovely birds could! Why had they come hither, +of all places in the world? If she were a green-and-purple +thing, with strong wings, like any of them, +she would soar away to the window of some rich<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +lady's house on Fifth Avenue, and be taken inside +some handsome chamber, perhaps, and fed and petted—yes, +even put into a cage, if the lady chose. A +cage there would be better than one's full freedom +here, where the dead were always going to their +graves.</p> + +<p>From a reverie which may or may not have resembled +this if it had been made into actual language, +the sudden spontaneous flight of the whole +charming flock roused poor ruminative Claire. She +now perceived that the funeral train had drawn +much nearer. A sort of metallic resonance sounded +from the many horse-hooves on the hard surface of +the road. But another sound, at this point, turned +her attention elsewhere. It was a cracked, thin, piping +voice, and its utterances were delivered only a +short distance from her side. She discovered that an +old man had joined her on the bridge during her absorbed +preoccupation with the pigeons. He was a +very old man; he leant on a staff, and was clad in an +evident holiday-attire of black, whose rusty broadcloth +hung about his shrunken shape with tell-tale +looseness; it had too evidently been cut for a far +more portly person. He had a wrinkled face, and +yet one of rubicund plumpness; a spot of red flushed +each cheek, centring in a little crimson net-work of +veins there, while the same peculiarity cropped out +a third time, as it were, on the ball-like lump at the +end of his irregular nose. Claire had a feeling, as +she looked at him, that he was a reformed toper. +Everything about him told of present sobriety, but +he was like a colored lantern seen without the illuminative +candle; you had a latent certainty, as you +regarded him, that only a few glasses of sufficiently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +bad liquor were needed to warm up those three red +spots into their old auroral splendor. While speaking, +he put forth a brown hand that trembled a good +deal. The tremor came, no doubt, from senile feebleness, +and the hand was so gnarled and knotty that it +might almost have been one of those rough excrescences +which sometimes bulge from tree-trunks, instead +of the sad rheumatic member that it really was. +The new-comer spoke with an extremely strong Irish +accent, and in a hollow, husky voice that implied, +on first hearing it, a kind of elfin and subterranean +origin.</p> + +<p>"Begorra, ma'am, here it is, ma'am! I'm alludin' +to the funeral, ma'am. Shure I made th' ould woman +dresh me up in mee besht clothes thish day, ma'am, +so I did. Fur it's Mishter Bairned McCafferty that's +to be buried thish day, I sez, ma'am, sez I to th' ould +woman, I sez, an' sez I, ever since I haird he wasn't +expected, I sez, it's his wake I wants to be goin' to. +An' if I wus too ould, I sez, to crossh over an' pay +mee respechts when they waked him in the city, sez +I, it'll be meeself, I sez, that'll shtand here an' watch +'em parade 'im to Calvary, ma'am, sez I."</p> + +<p>Claire had a pity for the old man, at first. But +before his speech ended he had roused in her a repulsion. +He appeared quietly hilarious; he had produced +several distinct chuckles, and his watery, peering +eyes, which one of his misshapen hands soon +shaded, revealed an actually gay twinkle.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you wanted to come out and +watch the person go to his grave," said Claire. +"What pleasure can that possibly give you?"</p> + +<p>"Pleasure, ma'am, is it, ma'am?" was the startled +response. "Why, shure, ma'am, it's the foinest fu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>neral +that's been seen in these parts, ma'am, fur +manny a day! An' it's mee own son, Larry, that's +drivin' the hairse, ye'll understand, ma'am, an' it's +a proud day for Larry, so it is. Excuse me, ma'am, +but do ye take sight o' the hairse yet?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; very well," said Claire. "It has a +number of wooden ornaments along its top, that are +gilded and look like large black cabbages." She +gave a little burst of weary laughter as she finished +the last sentence, whose irony was quite lost on her +dim-sighted companion. "And its sides are glass," +she continued, "and you can see the large coffin +within quite plainly, and there are four horses with +white and black plumes."</p> + +<p>"An'—an'—the carriages, ma'am, if ye plaise, +ma'am?" eagerly questioned the old man. "Shure +there should be forty if there's wan, ma'am, an' a +few loight wagons thrown in behoind as well. How's +that, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"I think there must be forty," said Claire, turning +a curious look on the questioner, as he bent excitedly +forward to hear her answer. "And there are several +light wagons, also."</p> + +<p>The old man rubbed his weird hands together in +gleeful ecstasy, nearly toppling over as he did so, because +the act necessitated a transient disregard of the +needful prop lent by his staff. "Shure I towld th' +ould woman jusht that!" he cried, in great triumph. +"Shure I sez to her, sez I, Barney McCafferty's too +daicent a man, I sez, to go to his grave, sez I, anny +less daicenter nor that, I sez. It'll be forty carriages, +I sez, if it's wan. An' there'll be a shport +or so, sez I to her, ma'am (bee thish shtick in mee +hand, ma'am, I sed it, ma'am!) there'll be a shport<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +or so that'll bring a buggy or so, sez I, for a woind +up at the end, I sez, like the laugh that comes, ye +mind, at the tail of a joke, I sez. An' it's you I'm +thankful to, ma'am, fur the loan o' your two broight +eyes, ma'am, that lets me see the soight that God's +denied me, ma'am: an' I mean, wid a blessin' to yer, +the shtyle o' the hairse an' the gineral natur o' the +intertainmint altogether, ma'am, the Lord love yer +fur yer frindly assistance!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you can see the funeral better when it +gets in front of the bridge," said Claire, somewhat +kindly, but with a shocked sense still remaining. +Her varied past, that had shown her so many differing +human phases, had not till now presented to her +the extraordinary fact of how positively festal are +the associations with which the Irish, as our shores +find them, are wont to accompany death. At the +same time, she felt interested, and rather curious. +She could always manage, on brief notice, to feel interested +and curious regarding any fellow-creature; +and this trait (one that has grown historic among the +most noted charmers of her own sex) was now tested +to perhaps its last limits.</p> + +<p>"Does your son always drive hearses?" she continued, +unconsciously looking at the old man as if he +were something in a museum, to be marveled at for +antiquity and strangeness, but not, on pain of expulsion, +to be touched.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, ma'am. Larry's wan o' the hands to a +livery shtable, ma'am; but yer see, ma'am, he's timperance, +an' so they gives 'im the hairse at mosht o' +the high-toned funerals, bekase they're shure, then, +that there'll be no dishrespect showed to the corpse, +y' undershtand. An' it's always the behavior o' the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +hairse that's mosht cruticized, fur if that goes an' +comes quiet, wid no singin' nur shkylarkin' on the +part o' him that drives it, d' y' undershtand, why +there's lesh talk nur if all the mourners an' relashuns +should come home shtavin' drunk, ma'am, d' ye +mind?"</p> + +<p>"And who is this Bernard McCafferty?" asked +Claire.</p> + +<p>"Is it Barney McCafferty that ye're ashkin' +about?" was the old man's amazed response, a +sharp falsetto note piercing through his usual huskiness. +"Why, shure, ma'am, he run six places acrosh +in the city fur tin year all to wanst, so he did, an' +that ain't countin' the wan he kep' in Harlem, naythur."</p> + +<p>This explanation was delivered with an air of astonished +rebuke, as though one should enumerate the +possessions of some slighted prince.</p> + +<p>"What sorts of places do you mean?" inquired +Claire.</p> + +<p>The old man put his head on one side and looked +at her with uneasy suspicion, as though he feared she +was making sport of him.</p> + +<p>"Places? Why, liquor-sthores, to be sure."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Claire. "And what did he die of? +Drink?"</p> + +<p>Her companion brightened noticeably, and seemed +to gain confidence in his questioner. He scratched +one cheek, where the unshorn beard showed in white, +bristly patches along the fleshless jaw, and winked +at Claire as though she had at once put the matter +upon a basis of mutual and intimate comprehension.</p> + +<p>"I guess it <i>wus</i> the drink ash laid 'im out at lasht, +ma'am. Manny is the good glass I had wid Barney<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +afore he went into politics an' got shut of his besht +frinds, bad luck to 'im. But he shtood well up to +his liquor fur nigh forty year, though I'm thinkin' +it fetched 'im in the end, ma'am."</p> + +<p>This was said with the manner and tone of a person +who might have alluded to some rather genteel +foible in the deceased, like a fondness for chess or +whist. Claire found herself confronting another fact +in the lower Irish nature, hitherto but half surmised: +the enormous indulgence and sympathetic tolerance +with which this unique race regards every form and +feature of drunkenness.</p> + +<p>"If he sold liquor all his life and died of it himself," +she exclaimed, with heat and force, "he +doesn't deserve to have half so large a funeral. And +I think it's dreadful," she went on, with a little +angry stamp of the foot, while she lifted one finger +and shook it at the old man in a way with which +her sex had doubtless familiarized him at an earlier +stage in his long career—"yes, I think it's perfectly +horrible that you people should ever dare to get +drunk at funerals as you do! I often see the carriage-loads +come back from the cemetery through +Greenpoint, laughing and smoking, and sometimes +yelling and swearing as well! Oh, I don't know +how you <i>can</i> do it! There is something so grand, so +terrible about death! You ought to be ashamed, all +of you! Such actions make this place more sad and +wretched than it really is. It is a miserable place +enough, Heaven knows!"</p> + +<p>She moved away from the old man as she spoke +the last sentence. Going forth upon the road, she +retraced her steps in the direction of the town, and +thus met each separate vehicle of the long funeral as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +it stole laggingly onward. First came the black-and-gilt +hearse, flaunting its interior coffin with horrid +ostentation, as though it wanted you to see how +many wreaths and crosses had been lavished upon +the remains of Mr. McCafferty by his bereaved constituents. +Then followed a carriage to whose driver +had been confided a capacious wooden box which +would doubtless receive the coffin before its interment, +and into which the driver, having placed its +glaring unpainted mass on a line with the dashboard, +had thrust his feet, and by the act engulfed, +as it were, nearly half his person. He was a man of +sallow, cadaverous visage and very gaunt frame; he +looked as if he might possess some eerie fellowship +with the corpse itself; he seemed to alter the popular +phrase about having a foot in the grave, and to +make it quite thinkable that life could exist under +still more moribund conditions. In the conveyance +which he drove was a group of four people. Two of +them were stout Irishwomen, swathed in crape, and +two were middle-aged Irishmen, dressed with a holiday +smartness. In this vehicle silence appeared to +reign; its occupants, all four, sat with lowered eyes. +But in the other carriages, as one by one passed +Claire, not a sign of grief was manifest. There was +a good deal of audible conversation; there was considerable +leaning of heads out of windows; there +were not a few querulous children of various ages, +some of whom had been given oranges to suck or +sticks of striped candy to munch; there were buxom +women and spare women, massive men and slim men, +little girls and little boys, all huddled together, quite +often three or even more on a seat. But in the +whole long panorama of human visages, as it glided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +past her, Claire could not discern a single trace of +solemnity. The impression of mere hollow and senseless +form was produced, by this crude <i>cortège</i>, with +complete and dismal success. Nobody—with the +slight exceptions recorded—seemed to be sorry that +Mr. McCafferty had made a permanent departure +from the liquor-business.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why they come, if they are not sorry," +Claire said to herself, as she reëntered the town, +leaving the great serpentine funeral behind her. "I +suppose it is because of the ride. They seize on even +this grim excuse for getting a little pastime." ... +Then her thoughts took a new, self-questioning turn. +"And what reason have I to pity them and call +them 'poor'? They come here only in the way of +holiday, but I never get a glimpse of anything better +or worse, month after month. I dare say there <i>are</i> +worse places than this. I should like to see one, if +there really are, just for the change."</p> + +<p>Passing back through the unlovely streets again, +Claire had a desire to be near the water before she +returned in-doors. She now regretted not having +gone thither at first, instead of taking her dolorous +inland walk. It was nearly sunset; the twilight +had not yet learned to loiter, as it does in maturer +Spring, and a gloom had already crept, with purplish +effect, into the sweet pale azure of the heavens. +Claire made as short a cut toward one special place +at the water's edge as her regretted familiarity with +Greenpoint would permit, and presently stood on a +raised spot close beside the river. It was a bare +scarp of earth, touched faintly, here and there, with +the most meagre intervals of struggling green. Its +site commanded the delightful view beyond, and now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +at the ruddy but transient advent of evening, this +view was peculiarly delightful. You saw the wrinkled +river, drab and tremulous, under a stretch of +sky which the sinking sun had made from verge to +zenith a turmoil of little rosy and feathery clouds. +Each cloud had the damask glow, without its fleetness, +that we see in the scales of a darting trout. +The whole ember-colored array arched over the wide +stream in brief, unusual brilliancy, and stole now +and then from the gray waves beneath it a slight +gleam, no larger than the bud of a carnation, but +quite as rich-hued. Just beneath Claire was a low, +uncouth, many-patched hut, near to the muddy +strand, and looking not unlike something that had +drifted up from aqueous recesses with the intent of +making itself habitable for men. A ragged contiguous +wharf had been built here, at whose edge, when +summer came, small boats would be grouped to let. +A little northward, great yellowish piles of lumber +loomed, tier after tier, with big sloops moored beside +them, and with one acute red pennon, on one slim +mast, blown out bright against the darkening air. +Steamboats and sail-boats were slipping over the +ruffled river, these urged by their steady mechanic +push, those winning the capricious breeze to favor +their full-stretched canvas. Beyond, in dusky, irregular +semicircle, lay the opposite city. Its many +church-spires pierced the dimness, but all its other +traits of architecture, viewed at this distance, had a +flat, massed look. There was something symbolic in +the isolated saliency of these spires; they seemed to +typify the permanence of a faith which had already +defied centuries. But still more, their vague group +merged every detail of creed into one pictorial whole;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +you forgot, as you gazed, what various paths toward +salvation this or that steeple might be supposed to +point. The whole effect was simply and powerfully +Christian.</p> + +<p>Claire fixed her eyes upon the shadowy city. A +few early lights already dotted its expanse with gold, +as if to outspeed the tardier stars overhead. It +spread away, for the gaze that watched it, like a +huge realm of fascinating mystery. Claire forgot +how much sin it hid; perhaps she scarcely knew if +it hid any. She thought only of the diversions, relaxations, +festivities that would soon hold sway there. +Odd memories of her old school-fellows crossed her +mind. Doubtless Ada Gerrard was there now, thinking +of some new robe in which she would show her +plump white neck with the little freckles on it, that +very evening. It should be a pale-blue dress, Claire +decided; that would suit Ada's red hair the best. +How full was the big city, yonder, of happy, handsome, +prosperous people! And so many of them +were saying, now that the nightfall had begun, "I +shall go to this ball to-night," or "I shall go to that +theatre." They were getting the theatres ready for +the plays, now; the entrances were being lighted. +She could see Wallack's and the Union Square, each +with its small court and the baize doors beyond. Oh, +how pleasant it would be to do something, to look at +something, to hear something, to-night, that she had +not done and looked at and heard, again and again, +for weeks and months past! The girl's blood and +bone hungered for a holiday. She must go back +home, soon. And there was only one thought to +make the prospect of return endurable; that thought +was meeting her father. But he would be tired; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +was always more tired nowadays than in other times. +When he lay upon the lounge in the basement, and +she got the stool and sat down beside him, he would +smile to have her put both arms round his neck and +press her cheek up close to his, but he would go to +sleep very soon afterward; he would be so tired that +he would forget even to ask her if she had had a +hard time with her mother that day. And then her +mother would grumble a hint that the dishes were +yet to be washed, and she would take her arms away +from the beloved neck, and scrape and clean for +quite a long time; and then she would get sleepy, +more because she remembered how early she must +rise to-morrow than because a very little diversion +would not have made the alert young lids loath to +shade her eyes for hours to come.</p> + +<p>It would all be the same as on other nights. It +was always, every new night, the same as on that +which went before. There was the dull burden of +it. When would the burden be shifted? Would it +ever be shifted? Would it not merely grow heavier, +and slowly crush her down, till her back should get +the crook of age, and so bear it with better ease?</p> + +<p>She went nearer to the edge of the hillock, and set +her eyes once more upon the city, as if for a farewell +view. Its lights had become more numerous; the +tips of its spires were lost in tender vapor. Above, +the tiny scraps of luminous cloud had begun to fade; +the river had roughened and grown dull, and there +was a damp keenness in the freshening breeze. That +exquisite melancholy which is sure to breathe from +evening when it sheds a spell over the triple charm +of blended sky, land, and water, was now in the full +tide of its lovely power.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire lifted her hand to her lips, and waved a +kiss toward the glooming city. It was a pretty gesture, +and so furtive and stealthy that it might have +fled the notice of any one who stood quite close at +her side. And the low words that now succeeded it, +too, were just low enough to escape such heed, though +their sense might easily have met a possible listener +with the effect of broken and half-audible speech.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," she said to the city. "Good-night, +and be merry for hours to come. You seem just like +something alive and breathing, but I know that if +you had one mind and one heart to think and to feel +with, instead of the thousands and thousands that +you have got, you would pity me because I'm so +sorry that this big, cold river is always between us!"</p> + +<p>Claire nearly broke into a laugh at her own soft +and quaint little apostrophe. Like most lonely people +who dislike their solitude, she often felt the temptation +to soliloquize; especially since her imagination +was vigorous, and sometimes loved, as well, to let +mount from its wrist the agile falcon of fancy. But +a practical bent, as we call it, and a rather sharp +sense of the humor of things besides, usually mingled +to repress this volatile impulse. As it was, she gave +a strong, tired sigh instead of a laugh, and turned +her face homeward, though not her steps quite yet, +for she still remained standing on the mound beside +the water.</p> + +<p>"My holiday," she thought, "is over." She did +not know that it was just beginning.</p> + +<p>Her last action had brought her into abrupt contact +with a girlish figure, whose countenance she +might have recognized had not the dusk so deepened.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">"I</span> was mos' sure '<i>twas</i> you, Miss Twining," said +the new-comer, holding out a hand to Claire, "so I +run a little further up the hill, jus' to make reel <i>certain</i> +sure."</p> + +<p>"Well, you were not wrong, Josie," said Claire, +giving her own hand. It did not occur to her that +she had been called "Miss Twining" and had answered +by "Josie." In this case she took her rights +of superiority without thinking; she did not stop to +consider their soundness; it had always been to her +an accepted fact that she was an alien and an exile, +here in Greenpoint, and that the few residents whom +she knew must of necessity admit her claim to having +existed under better previous conditions. There +was no taint of arrogance in this unargued assumption.</p> + +<p>"You ain't often out's late's this, Miss Twining," +said Josie, with a little burst of laughter. "Are you, +now?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," answered Claire. "I am not often +out at all." She sighed again, quite unconsciously. +"Well, Josie," she went on, "I must be getting back +home. I've been away too long, as it is. You seem +to be dressed in your very finest. Does it mean that +you are going to enjoy yourself somewhere?"</p> + +<p>Josie gave another laugh. "I expect so, Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +Twining," she said, with a touch of mysterious piquancy +in her manner. She turned herself quickly +about, looking over her shoulder all the while with +the air of waiting for some one to appear. Claire +watched her closely during the unconscious but significant +by-play.</p> + +<p>The name of this young girl was Josephine Morley. +She was of Irish parents, but felt ashamed of +the fact. Perhaps consciously, perhaps not, she had +banished from her speech all hereditary traces. She +spoke in a rattling way, and every now and then she +would heap massive emphasis on one special word. +Her talk made you think of a railway that is all +broken up with <i>dépôts</i>, none of which the engine discountenances. +Her widowed mother kept a grocery +store, not amply patronized, and of moderate prices. +By pre-arrangement with the Twinings on a basis of +the most severe economy, Josie would bring them +their needed supply of vegetables thrice a week. She +was not so jaunty-looking on those occasions as she +now appeared. Then she would be clad in any flotsam +and jetsam of apparel that charity might have +drifted toward her. But to-night she was smartly +dressed. Now that Claire scanned her closer in the +dimness, it was plain that she wore very unusual +gear. Josie was not much over twenty. She was +extremely thin, but still rather shapely, and endowed +with a good deal of grace. Her face would have +been pretty but for its high cheek-bones and the hectic +blotch of color that was wont to flush them, in +sharp contrast with her remaining pallor. She had +had several sisters who had died of a speedy consumption. +Her eyes were black, and would glitter +as she moved them; she was always moving her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +eyes; like herself, they never seemed at rest. She +constantly smiled, and the smile would have had a +charm of its own if it had failed to reveal somewhat +ruinous teeth. Claire had always liked her vivacity, +though it had seemed to possess a spur that came +from an unhealthy impulse, like the heat of internal +fever. She wore a wide-brimmed hat of dark straw, +with a great crimson feather, and a costume of some +cheap maroon stuff, violently relieved by trimmings +of broad white braid. The <i>ensemble</i> was very far +from ugly. She had copied its effect from a popular +weekly journal, whose harrowing fiction would sometimes +be supplemented by prints of the latest fashions, +"given away" to its devoted patrons.</p> + +<p>Claire, having drawn nearer to Josie, took in all +her details of costume with ready swiftness. This +fleet sort of observation was always an easy matter +for Claire. In most cases of a like sort, she would +both see and judge before others had accomplished +even the first process.</p> + +<p>"You seem to be waiting for somebody, Josie," +she now said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," returned Josie, with another laugh. +She put one slim hand to her mouth as she laughed; +she nearly always employed this gesture at such a +time; it came, no doubt, from a consciousness of +dental deficiencies. "I ain't goin' to be <i>shy</i>, Miss +Twining," she pursued. "Why <i>should</i> I? I'm expectin' +a gent'man friend o' mine. We was goin' +over t' the city together. We was goin' to <i>Niblo's</i>. +There's an el'gant play there, they <i>say</i>." ... Here +Josie paused, drew backward for an instant, and then +impulsively seized one of Claire's hands in both of +her own. "Oh, Miss Twining!" she suddenly ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>claimed, +"I know I hadn't ought to ask you if <i>you'd</i> +come along, too, but I do wish you just <i>would</i>! You +ain't the same kind as me a bit, and there's more'n +me in Greenpoint—now, 'pon my word there is—that's +said when they see you that you <i>was</i> a reel +lady. But still, you might come with me and my +friend, Mr. MacNab, and just get a spell of <i>'musement</i>. +I know you ain't had any 'musement in goodness +sakes <i>how</i> long! It's a reel el'gant play! Do +say you will! Now I ain't a bit <i>soft</i> on Mr. MacNab. +P'aps he'd <i>like</i> me to be, but I ain't. So +three won't spoil comp'ny. Now, <i>do</i>! Oh, Miss +Twining, I'd be awful glad if you <i>would!</i>"</p> + +<p>Josie's tones, like her words, were warmly persuasive. +She still retained Claire's hand. Nor did +Claire withdraw it. She was tempted. She turned +her head toward the darkling city, in whose realm +of deepened shadow many new lights had begun to +burn.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Josie," she said, "you are very kind to ask +me. But I'm quite shabby beside you, you know."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" flatly objected Josie; "you look fust +rate. That ain't <i>no</i> sort of reason.... Do! Now, +<i>do</i>!"</p> + +<p>Claire laughed nervously. She was thinking how +pleasant it would be to hear an orchestra play, to see +a curtain rise, to watch a drama roll its story out, behind +vivid footlights, between painted scenes.</p> + +<p>"I am sure Mr. MacNab wouldn't like," she said. +And then she thought of how her father would soon +come home and miss her, and have to be told, when +they next met, that she had been to the theatre over +in New York with the girl who brought them vegetables +thrice a week. She seemed quite to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +made up her mind, presently. She withdrew her +hand from Josie's with a good deal of placid force.</p> + +<p>"No, Josie, I can't," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you <i>can</i>!" was the fervid reply. "Yes, you +just <i>shall</i>, Miss Twining; now <i>there</i>! I ain't goin' +t' let you <i>off</i>! When I get my mind set right <i>onto</i> +anything, I'm as stubb'n as ever I can <i>be</i>! An' I'm +sure you'd <i>like</i> to come. There ain't no doubt of 't—not +one single <i>grain</i>!"</p> + +<p>Josie was laughing while she thus spoke, and had +again caught Claire's unwilling hand with more of +entreaty than boldness.</p> + +<p>"What makes you sure?" Claire asked. She +smiled now, though the smile was sad.</p> + +<p>Josie's laughter became a high treble ripple. She +put both feet, visible beneath her short skirt, suddenly +very close together, and curved her lithe body +in an abrupt burlesque bow. The trick was graceful, +though vulgar; it savored of the cheaper variety +entertainments, where Josie had no doubt found it. +She still held Claire's hand, and she was looking +straight into the eyes of her companion with her own +dark, brisk eyes.</p> + +<p>"What <i>makes</i> me sure you'd like to go?" she said. +"Why, sakes alive, Miss Twining, I can see the need +of a little fun oozin' right out of your <i>face</i>—now, +'pon my word and sacred honor I just <i>can</i>! Oh, +pshaw! We'll be home early 'nough. It won't be +<i>much</i> more'n quarter past 'leven, I guess. B'sides, +who'll <i>know</i>? 'Tain't anybody's business but <i>ours</i>."</p> + +<p>'Father would know. It would be his business,' +Claire thought. But she did not answer aloud, as +yet. She permitted Josie to retain her hand, while +she turned and gave another glance toward the city +across the river.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>The rapid darkness had thickened. Where New +York had lain, dim as a mirage, hundreds of lights +had clustered; their yellow galaxy more than rivaled +the pale specks of fire now crowding with silent speed +into the heavens domed so remotely above them.</p> + +<p>She faced Josie again. She trembled, though imperceptibly. +Drooping her eyes, at first, she then +raised them. "Well," she said, "I will let you persuade +me. I will go with you, Josie."</p> + +<p>It was the first time she had ever made a resolve +whose fulfillment she felt sure would displease her father. +The certainty that he would not sanction her +going in companionship of this proposed sort made +Claire's decision a sacrilege to herself, even while she +perversely took it. She trampled on her own filial +loyalty, and she seemed to feel it tremble in pained +protest under the outrage. It was in vain that a +troop of self-excusing pleas sprang to battle against +her shamed afterthought. She knew that remorse +was already whetting for her its poniard. The gloom +of her father's future rebuke had already made itself +a part of the increasing nightfall.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ain't I glad, though!" Josie broke forth, gleefully. +Her triumph was one of pure good-natured +impulse, but at the same time she had a flattered +sense that her evening's amusement would now gain +a stamp of distinction. One or two girls in Greenpoint +had derided her for encouraging Mr. MacNab +as a devotee. She herself secretly derided the young +man in that same tender office. For this reason she +had arranged that they should meet here to-night at +the foot of the little hillock near the river, and invest +their purposed trip with enough clandestine association +to defeat the couchant raillery of certain +unsparing neighbors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>Almost immediately Mr. MacNab made his appearance +below, and Josie tripped lightly down toward +him, followed by Claire at a much more sober pace. +The introduction promptly followed, and Josie's glib, +matter-of-course explanation soon succeeded that. +The reason of Claire's presence was given Mr. MacNab +by Josie with a handsome, off-hand patronage. +"It's awful nice o' Miss Twining to <i>consent</i> to go +along with us," she ended. "<i>Aint</i> it, now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed," said Mr. MacNab.</p> + +<p>The young man was inwardly tortured by this abrupt +announcement. He was very much in love with +Josie, and he had felt deeper and deeper thrills of +anticipation all day long, as the hour of their rendezvous +drew near. He was a youth of about two-and-twenty. +His stature was so low as to be almost +dwarfish; both Claire's and Josie's well overtopped +it. He was very stout, however; the breadth of his +shoulders and the solid girth of his limbs might have +suited six feet of clean height. He had a large, +smooth, moon-like face, a pair of little black eyes, +and a pair of huge red ears. He was immoderately +ugly, but with an expression so simply amiable as +quite to escape repulsiveness. You felt that his ready +smile possessed vast hidden funds of geniality; there +was no telling what supple resources that long slit +of big-lipped mouth might draw upon, at a really +mirthful emergency. One glance at his abnormal +hands, where every joint was an uncouth protuberance +and every nail a line of inky darkness, left it +certain that they held no dainty share of the world's +manual requirements. Mr. James MacNab was an +oyster-opener for about eight months in the year, and +a clam-opener through the remaining four. The nar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>row +window of his employer's shop looked upon +Greenpoint Avenue, wedged between the stores of +a butcher and a candy-seller. Like Josie Morley, +James was of Irish parentage; like her, he abjured +the accent of his ancestors, having been born here, +and having breathed into his being at an early age +that peculiar shame of Celtic origin which belongs +among our curiosities of immigration. His wages +were meagre, and his hours of work numerous. To-night +was a precious interval of relaxation. He had +been released at three o'clock that afternoon, and had +gone heavy-lidded to a tiny cot in a garret-room, +where he had slept the exhausted sleep of one who +is always in arrears to the drowsy god. Not long +ago he had waked, highly refreshed, and pierced +with the expectation of soon meeting his beloved +Josie. He had four dollars and seventy-five cents in +his pocket, and the possession of this sum gave him +a firm sense of pecuniary security. The strong faith +that he was finely dressed, too, increased his confidence. +He had a little low hat of black felt, tipped +sideways on his ungainly head; an overcoat of muddy +cinnamon-brown, with broad black binding along its +lappels and edges; and a pair of boots so capably +polished that their lustre dissuaded you from too +close scrutiny of the toe-joint bulging from either +clumsy foot. He was entirely satisfied with his general +effect. He knew that nature had not made him +comely, but he felt complete repose of conscience in +the matter of having atoned artistically for this personal +slight.</p> + +<p>Josie's tidings left him almost speechless. In a +trice his glowing hopes had crumbled to ashes. He +had long known Claire by sight. He had, in a way,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +admired her. But she was not of his <i>monde</i>, and he +saw with woe and dismay that for this reason her +company would prove all the more burdensome. As +a matter of expense, too, it presented the most painful +objections. New drafts must be made upon his +limited capital. All his past calculations were suddenly +rendered null. Who could say what financial +disaster might overtake him, if he should now aspire +to three oyster-stews after three seats at the theatre? +Would his four dollars and seventy-five cents not +pass its powers of elasticity if subjected to this unforeseen +stretching-process? Claire, meanwhile, was +wholly unconscious of his distress. It was not till +they had embarked on the ferry-boat that the thought +of her escort's possible poverty occurred to her flurried +mind. "Oh, Josie," she soon found a chance to +whisper, "I am afraid I shall be a great expense to +your friend! I would have thought of it sooner if +you had not pressed me so, without any warning beforehand. +And I have only a little change in my +pocket, so I can't"—</p> + +<p>But here Josie interrupted her with a magnificent +murmured fiction to the effect that they were under +the protection of a young man who "jus' made money +hand over fist"; and Claire, believing this handsome +falsehood, let Josie talk with her gallant while she +relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>They were all on the forward deck of the steamboat, +close against its wooden railing. Claire was a +little apart from her companions; she had instinctively +withdrawn from them. The night had now +woven its web to the full. Overhead the stars +beamed more richly; below, the black river shimmered +with glassy lustre where it met the sides of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +the speeding vessel, and then rolled off again into +darkness with great swollen waves. Long points of +light pierced the gloom below the opposite shore, +like golden plummets that were slowly fathoming its +opaque tide. Here and there scarlet or green lights +moved over the waters, given by the viewless barks +that bore them the look of weird, wandering jack-o'-lanterns. +These were simply fantastic; they held no +human analogies. A sloop, thus brilliantly decked, +hove on a sudden into sight, not many yards from +Claire's peering gaze. Its expanse of canvas, tense +in the sharp breeze, caught a momentary unearthly +pallor; it slipped into view like a monstrous phantom, +and like a phantom it vanished again. This, +too, was a merely elfin and quaint apparition; no +sense of vital reality lay behind it. But the journeying +ferry-boats, that voyaged to their several goals +on either side the river, took, with their curved lines +of small, keen-lit windows and their illuminations at +various other points, the likeness of stately galleys +gliding after nightfall to some opulent port. All +their horrors of nautical architecture were deadened +by merciful shadow. Claire felt the quiet splendor +of the suggestion. Her varied educational past made +this fully possible. But the whole effect of transformation, +of magic, of mystery, and of beauty, which +follows the advent of night along all the watery environs +of our great metropolis, appealed to her with +deep force.</p> + +<p>She had a fancy that the hard prose had left her +life forever; that she was now being softly swept into +luxurious and romantic surroundings; that the festal +and poetic look of city and river symbolized a fairer +and kindlier future. The indulgence of this fancy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +thrilled her delightfully; it was a sort of intoxication; +she no longer felt culpable, unfilial; she leaned +her graceful young head far over the boat-rail, as +though to gain by this act a stronger intimacy with +the sweet, drowsy sorceries that encompassed her.</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i>! ain't it <i>reel</i> chilly out here, though?" said +Josie. "We'd ought to 'a stayed inside, <i>hadn't</i> we, +Miss Twining?"</p> + +<p>This half broke the spell with Claire. "I like it +so much better out here," she answered. "The air +isn't too sharp for me, and then everything is so +beautiful and strange." She slightly waved one hand +toward the brilliant city as she spoke.</p> + +<p>Josie did not understand at all. How could there +be anything beautiful in a lot of boats screaming to +each other after dark with steam-whistles? But she +said "yes," and cast a glance at Mr. MacNab, which +was meant to veto in him the first symptom of surprise. +Claire's superiority must not have the least +slight cast upon it. It would never do to encourage +Mr. MacNab in undervaluing the compliment of her +companionship.</p> + +<p>The boat soon landed, and all Claire's lovely illusions +fled. Still, here was the city, noisy, populous, +alluring. After disembarking at the ferry they were +yet far away from Niblo's, and a long ride ensued, in +a car crowded and of ill odor. Then came a walk +of considerable length, fleetly taken, for they were a +little late by Mr. MacNab's silver time-piece, which +afterward proved to be fast.</p> + +<p>Mr. MacNab was meanwhile in a sort of nervous +trance. He had made what for him was a <i>tour de +force</i> in mental arithmetic, though he still remained +insecure about the exactitude of his calculation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +However, he felt confident of one thing: three seats, +of a certain kind, would cost three dollars. A dollar +would solidly remain to him, though the precise +amount of surplus change now in his pocket defied +all his mathematical modes of discovery. Pride forbade +that he should take out the silver bits and +count them. But his residual dollar could at least +pay the homeward fares. Cold as this comfort may +have been, it took, no doubt, a certain relative warmth +when contrasted with dire pecuniary exposure.</p> + +<p>They at length reached the theatre, and easily procured +upstairs seats that commanded an excellent +view of the stage. The curtain had not yet risen. +Claire was glad of that; she had the desire not to +miss a single detail of the coming performance. She +was intently examining her play-bill, when, on a sudden, +a man's voice, close at her right, spoke to this +effect:—</p> + +<p>"Hello, Jimmy, is that yerself?"</p> + +<p>The next moment Claire perceived a hand and arm +to have been unceremoniously thrust in front of her, +while a young man leaned his body very much sideways +indeed. She receded, herself, not without annoyance.</p> + +<p>Josie sat next to her, and then came Mr. MacNab, +who now permitted himself to be shaken hands with +across the laps of the two girls.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Jack," he responded, at the same time. +"What you doin' here?"</p> + +<p>"Come t' see the show," said the person called +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Is that so?"</p> + +<p>"'Course. Nuthin' strange 'bout it, is there?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"S'pose you're on the same racket yerself. Hey?"</p> + +<p>"You bet, ole boy."</p> + +<p>All these utterances were exchanged in tones of +the most easy cordiality. The two young men had +ceased to shake hands, but were leaning each toward +the other, apparently quite unconscious of the inconvenience +which they inflicted upon both Josie and +Claire.</p> + +<p>"I got sold t'night," Jack continued, with a +blended wink and giggle.</p> + +<p>"How's that?"</p> + +<p>Jack gave a demonstrative jerk of the elbow, +meant to indicate a vacant seat on his further side. +"Me an' my gal was comin' t'gether, but she gimme +the slip after I'd got mer seats. Sent word she had +the headache. Well, I dunno how 'tis, but I reckon +I'll have to punch some feller's head, 'fore long. +Hey, Jimmy?"</p> + +<p>This hostile prophecy was hailed by Jimmy with a +laugh whose repressed enjoyment took the semblance +of a goose's hiss, except that its tone was more guttural +and its volume more massive.</p> + +<p>"I guess that's 'bout the size of it, Jack," he replied. +The next moment he straightened himself in +his seat, having received an exasperated nudge from +Josie.</p> + +<p>Mr. MacNab's friend followed his example. Claire +felt relieved. She examined her programme again. +She had already managed to see quite as much as she +wished of the person seated next her.</p> + +<p>His name was Slocumb. He had a cousin in +Greenpoint, an undertaker's son, whom he would +occasionally visit of a Sunday, bringing across the +river to the doleful quarters of his kinsfolk a de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>meanor +of high condescension and patronage. He +was in reality a loafer of very vicious sort, feeding +his idleness upon the alms of an infatuated woman, +whose devotion he did not repay with even the saving +grace of fidelity. He had contrived to hide his +real badness of life and lowness of repute from both +uncle and cousin, and had won the latter to believe +him a superior kind of metropolitan product. Together +MacNab and he had partaken of refreshment +at the shop of the former's employer, and from such +events had sprung an intimacy with the oyster-opener +which had found its most active development in a +near drinking-shop. Mr. John Slocumb had a dull, +brownish complexion, a light-brown eye, and a faint +brown mustache. His face was not ugly, judged by +line and feature, but it had a hardness that resembled +bronze; you fancied that you might touch its +cheek and meet no resistance. There was a look of +vice and depravity about it that was not to be explained; +the repulsive element was there, but it +eluded direct proof; it was no more in eyelid than +in nostril, but it was as much in forehead and chin +as in either. Claire felt the repelling force almost +instantly. Mr. Slocumb's dress was not designed in +a fashion to decrease its effect. He wore a suit of +green-and-blue plaid, each tint being happily moderated, +like evil that prefers to lurk in ambush. The +collar of his shirt sloped down at the breast, leaving +an unwonted glimpse of his neck visible. But you +saw a good deal of his cravat, which was green, +barred with broad yellow stripes, and pierced by a +pin that appeared to be a hand of pink coral clutching +a golden dumb-bell. His figure was slender +almost to litheness, but his shoulders outspread two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +such long and bulky ridges that you at once placed +their athletic proportions among the most courageous +frauds of tailoring.</p> + +<p>The orchestra had now begun to play a lively and +rather clangorous prelude. And meanwhile Claire +was gradually made to learn that Mr. John Slocumb +was keeping up a cool, persistent stare at her half-averted +face. She soon became troubled by this +unrelaxing scrutiny, as minutes slipped by. Mr. Slocumb +had a slim black cane that looked like a polished +and rounded whalebone and ended in the head +of a bull-dog, with two white specks of ivory for its +eyes. Holding this between his knees, he flung it +from one hand to another in nervous oscillation, while +continuing his stare.</p> + +<p>He had decided that Claire was a damned good-looking +girl. He had a secret contempt for her escort, +Mr. MacNab. He judged all men by the capabilities +of their muscle, and he had practical reasons +for feeling sure that his own wiry frame held easy +resources for the annihilation of "poor little Jimmy." +'She looks putty high-toned,' he was reflecting, 'but +I guess that's on'y a put-up job to tease a feller. She +can't be much if she's along with that young un. +I'll say somepn.'</p> + +<p>He was on the verge of carrying out this resolve +and addressing Claire, when an event occurred which +had the effect of thwarting his meditated impertinence.</p> + +<p>The mind of James MacNab was dull and sluggish. +But he had seen a way of perhaps securing for himself +the undivided attention of Josie. He did not +wait for the latter to sanction his design; he feared +her opposition to it, and suddenly spoke, leaning forward +again with his look directed full upon Claire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Miss Twinin'," he said, "'low me t' intrerdooce +a friend o' mine, Mr. Slocumb. Mr. Slocumb, Miss +Twinin'; Miss Twinin', Mr. Slocumb."</p> + +<p>During this ponderous formula of presentation +Claire had started, colored, turned toward the neighbor +thus pointedly named, and finally bowed with +extreme coldness, at once re-averting her face after +doing so.</p> + +<p>She seized the chance of whispering to Josie: +"Why did he do that? I don't want to meet any +strangers to-night. I hoped he would understand."</p> + +<p>"He'd <i>ought</i> to," replied Josie, in swift aside. "I +do declare it's <i>too</i> bad!"</p> + +<p>The next moment she addressed Mr. MacNab. +Claire could not hear what she said to him, but her +brisk asperity of gesture somewhat plainly denoted +reprimand. Her remarks, whatever their nature, +were met in stolid silence. He who received them +rather enjoyed being scolded by Josie. Her wrath +had the charm of exclusiveness; for the time, at +least, it vouchsafed to him her unshared heed.</p> + +<p>Slocumb made prompt use of his new opportunity. +"I guess we'll have a putty decent show to-night," +he said. "They say it lays over most ev'rything +that's been here fur a year or two."</p> + +<p>Claire was now forced to turn and look at the +speaker. To ignore him was no longer to preserve +dignity. He had received his right of way beyond +the barriers of her disregard; he had become an +authorized nuisance; civility from herself had taken +the instant shape of a debt, due her present escort.</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad if it is a good play," she said. +Her tones were chill and forced; her manner was +repellent because so restrained. Immediately after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +speaking she looked at the stage. The orchestra had +just stopped its brassy tumults. The green width of +curtain was slowly rolling upward.</p> + +<p>The play began. It was one of those melodramas +that are the despair of reformatory critics, yet reach +the protective approval of the populace through scenic +novelty, swift action, and vivid, if coarse-lined, portraitures. +Claire was too infrequent a theatre-goer +not promptly to fall under the spell wrought by a +playwright deft enough for the capture of others far +more experienced than she in tricks of climax, dialogue, +and situation.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, during the progress of this act, she +would murmur pleased comments to Josie. She betrayed +an interest that was childish; she had forgotten +the proximity of Slocumb. He still stared at +her; he had not been effectually repulsed by her suppressed, +colorless demeanor. Her refined accent and +the musical quality inseparable at all times from her +voice had affected him like a new sensation. He +failed to follow the actors while they diligently stored +up material for future agony. He had enormous confidence +in his own powers of fascination with women. +It did not occur to him that Claire might be a lady. +He knew nothing of ladies. He had met some +women who disliked him at sight, who would have +none of him, whose fortresses of prejudice he could +not storm. But these incidents of disfavor were rare; +his list of conquests far outnumbered them.</p> + +<p>"She's playin' off," sped his further reflections, +once more shaped in the vernacular of actual speech. +"I'll let up on her fur a spell. When the fust act's +through I'll tackle her agin. <i>She</i> aint 's offish as +she looks. Bet she ain't!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>The act progressed, and at length ended. Its +<i>finale</i> foretold a plentitude of woe and disaster; a +great deal of pipe, so to speak, had been laid for future +calamity; everything promised to be inclement +and tempestuous. The audience exchanged murmurs +of grim approbation; it was going to get its +money's worth of horror.</p> + +<p>But now an event abruptly took place which for +lurid reality far eclipsed all within the limits of canvas +and calcium. Just as the drop-curtain had +reached half-way in its descent, a sudden burst of +flame was seen to issue from one of the wings. It +may at once be said that the fire was completely extinguished +soon after the curtain had touched the +boards, and that nothing more serious had caused +it than the momentary conflagration of some gauze +side-scene which was to serve in a coming effect of +misty moonlight.</p> + +<p>But the large mass of people who witnessed the +blaze, and who saw and smelt the smoke as it curled +and eddied in black spirts forth from behind the +edges of the fallen curtain, had no knowledge of +their own slight peril. Here, in the upper tiers, +they rose impetuously; it was a prompt and general +panic. Dashes were made on every hand toward +the staircases. Cries of "fire" sounded from many +throats. Claire felt herself swept by sheer bodily +pressure at least twenty yards. A few seconds before +this she had heard a sort of whimpering shriek +from Josie Morley, and then had seen a sidelong +wedge of close-packed humanity pry itself between +her own form and that of the girl. Josie was clinging +with both hands to the arm of James MacNab at +the moment of her disappearance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire was more shocked than frightened. She +had never before found herself in physical danger; +to-night was a crucial test for her nerve and coolness. +Both stood the test well. John Slocumb, who had +kept close at her side, with his stout arm firmly +clasped about her waist, now felt a thrill of admiration +as she turned to him and quietly said, while +they stood jammed together in the panting throng, +whose very fierceness of impetus had produced for +it a brief, terrible calm, "I wish you would not hold +me like that, please. There's no need of it."</p> + +<p>We sometimes hear of the ruling passion that is +strong in death. Claire knew there was danger of +her being crushed. But she had not lost her head, +as the phrase goes. She could still prefer solitary +extinction to the fate of being annihilated while in +the embrace of Mr. John Slocumb.</p> + +<p>He removed his arm. "All right," he muttered, +"if you'd rather go it alone."</p> + +<p>"I would, thank you," said Claire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">But,</span> as it happened, they were not separated. The +crowd, pouring down either staircase, soon thinned. +There was better breathing-space, and a fairer chance +as well, for the more demoralized to push and struggle. +Slocumb kept close behind Claire. He warded +off from her a number of desperate thrusts. She was +not aware of these defensive tactics; she paid no +further heed to her former champion; as her sense +of danger lessened, the idea of re-meeting Josie took +shape and strength. When the first step of the staircase +was reached, she stumbled, and then regained +herself. She had no suspicion, at this moment, what +actually doughty work Slocumb was doing, just in +her rear. He was a man of unusual muscular power, +and, like not a few of his rough, pugnacious species, +endowed with dogged physical courage. At sight +Claire had keenly attracted him; her recent aversion +had piqued him into liking her still more. If the +occasion had grown one of sharper immediate jeopardy, +it is by no means doubtful that he might have +shown intrepid heroism as her rescuer. He was +gross, coarse, unprincipled, but he had that quality +of stubbornly defending what he liked which we often +see in the finest of brutes and sometimes in the least +fine of men.</p> + +<p>Up to this time the prevailing affright had meant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +bitter ill to all whom it had seized. The threat of +a hideous destruction had by no means passed when +the crowd about Claire grew less dense; for not far +behind her were two opposite streams of life that had +met and were each destroying the other's progress by +their very madness of encounter. Below stairs, and +at one of the intermediate landings, numerous people +had already been severely hurt; limbs had been +broken, and acute injuries of other kinds had been +dealt. The cries heard here and there were made +as much by pain as fear.</p> + +<p>But powers of good were working with ardor +among the lower quarters of the building. A man +had sprung forth upon the stage, and was imploring +order amid the smoke which partly enveloped him, +while at the same time he shouted to the multitude +that the fire was now under perfect control. Two +policemen and two ushers were abetting him further +on, where neither his entreaties nor explanations +could reach. Suddenly, with the same speed shown +by the panic at its origin, an orderly lull was manifest +in its haphazard turmoil. A few caught the +sense of the cheering intelligence, and these spread it +swiftly from tongue to tongue. At the moment when +this change began to be clearly assertive, Claire and +Slocumb had almost gained the last landing of the +stairs. By the time they were in the lower part of +the theatre, not a few persons who desired to air their +bravery, now that safety seemed certain, were returning +to their seats in dress-circle or parquette. "It's +on'y a hoax, after all," said Slocumb. "There's a +heap more scared nor hurt. S'pose we git upstairs +again? Hey? What d'yer think?"</p> + +<p>Claire shook her head. "No, I want to find Josie,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +she answered. "I don't care to go back. I think +she will not, either."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Slocumb; "jus' take my hook, +an' we'll git out o' here, an' watch fur Jim an' her +where they're mos' likely to be."</p> + +<p>He extended an arm to Claire as he spoke, and +pointed at the same time toward a spacious outer +hallway, in which the terrified multitude had already +become much more tractable. But Claire resolutely +refused to see the offered arm. She had begun to +tremble; now that the cause for fright had passed, +she was made to realize with how strong a wrench +she had screwed her nerves to the sticking-point. A +touch of giddiness came upon her; then a knot rose +in her throat, and she fought transiently, but with +silent success, against a novel sensation that only +slight self-surrender might have encouraged into turbid +hysteria. Still, she preserved her repugnance, +as it were. She would not accept Slocumb's arm. +She had made up her mind that he was a vulgar and +worthless creature, and moreover she had a distressing +instinct that he had thus stayed at her side because +of some new-born personal enticement.</p> + +<p>He saw plainly her rebuff, though she did not put +it in any salient way, choosing to let him suppose it +a mere unconscious omission. But he preferred not +to let it pass unnoticed.</p> + +<p>"Oho," he said, with surly force, while still keeping +his arm crooked, and shoving it so prominently +toward her that no further subterfuge was possible. +"So y' ain't goin' to ketch on, hey? W'at's the reason? +We can git 'long better. Come, now, <i>let's</i>."</p> + +<p>"No," said Claire, driven to bay. "I am very +much obliged to you, but I don't need any help."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! You'll go it alone. All right."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Slocumb did not look as if he thought +it by any means right. His hard, brown face had +clouded with sulky disapprobation. A little gleam +of teeth had stolen out under his crisp, short mustache, +with an effect not unlike what we see when +an angry dog snarls. He felt offended, and this +meant that he should either sting with his tongue or +smite with his fists. But in the present case a fresh +glance at Claire, whose profile was turned to him, +made his spleen swiftly perish. Her cheek had got +a deep tint of rose; he saw the liquid sparkle of one +dark-blue eye, and the dense, rippling hair, chestnut +threaded with gold, flowing above one faint-veined +temple.</p> + +<p>'<i>Ain't</i> she a stunner!' he thought. After that he +forgot to be offended. They were now in a spacious +hallway leading directly to the street. The panic +had quite subsided. Knots of people were standing +here and there, loudly discussing their late alarms. +Some of the women looked and acted as if they were +midway between mirth and tears. Most of the men +seemed grave; a few were laughing, but in a nervous, +furtive way. Along the centre of the broad passage +pressed a line of people whom the shock had left +too dispirited for further sojourn in the house.</p> + +<p>Claire, with her adherent, was among these latter. +In quest of Josie, she scanned every face within her +field of vision. She had already caught sight of more +than one injured unfortunate, further back, where +the rush on the lower floor had been most disastrous, +and just before she and Slocumb had gained their +present open quarters. On this account, rather than +because of the wild stampede itself, she had quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +lost desire to wait through the rest of the play. It +was now her fixed design to regain Josie and urge +the plan of an immediate return to Greenpoint. Her +sense of having met her father's known wishes with +overt disrespect had become an assailant self-reproach. +The very harshness of the event which had +so rudely broken in upon her enjoyment seemed to +have borrowed its disrelish from the rebuke that +she had known as waiting all along to shame her. +Providence, for the time, had gone with her father; +it had abetted him; it had been telling her, in stern +terms of personal threat, how flagrant was her filial +disloyalty.</p> + +<p>She searched for Josie, but found her nowhere +visible. She had soon reached the limit of the large +passage. A gate now confronted her, where a man +waited, ready to give those who sought egress a strip +of cardboard insuring their readmission.</p> + +<p>Claire took this guarantee of further diversion unconsciously. +The man had stood at his post through +all the furor that had just ended. He was a sort of +new Horatius at the bridge, though possibly with +less sublime motive, his wage being a permanent +annuity, and his position one of easy proximity to +Broadway.</p> + +<p>Claire stood in the vestibule of the theatre, and +felt the breeze from the street blow on her heated +face, before she was well aware just what vantage of +exit she had secured. Still she had not seen Josie. +And she now began to realize that there was a very +strong chance of not seeing Josie. True, the girl +might have returned with Mr. MacNab to their +former seats in the second gallery of the theatre. +But Claire's reluctance to place herself again within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +the walls of the building had by this time grown a +fierce distaste. Meanwhile, Slocumb had maintained +an unrelenting nearness to her. She knew this perfectly +well. If possible, a more meagre means than +the extreme corner of each eye had told her of it; +for so great was her repugnance that she had thus +far grudged him even the knowledge of receiving the +most minute regard. But now she was forced to +turn and look at him.</p> + +<p>"Do you think Josie can have gone back into the +theatre?" she asked, not being herself aware just +what frost and distance she had put into voice and +manner.</p> + +<p>"Dunno," said Slocumb. "Guess she ain't, though. +Guess her an' him's out there in the crowd." The +crowd to which he referred was already dense, and +every moment increasing. It flooded the flag-stones +and a portion of the middle street. Three or four +policemen were stirring it to the needful sense of decorum, +no less by application than menace of their +clubs.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I should never find her there," Claire +said, hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"That's so," quickly returned Slocumb. "You'd +better come inside agin. The scare'll be over in a +minnit. The piece'll go on, 'fore long, certain sure."</p> + +<p>"I don't care for the piece," replied Claire, with a +little toss of the head, more anxious than imperious. +"I don't want to see the rest of it. I want to find +Josie, and have her take me home at once."</p> + +<p>"All right. Jus' step inside an' wait fur 'em both."</p> + +<p>Claire looked straight at the speaker. She did not +know of the droop in each full-fringed lid of her +beautiful eyes. It was an unconscious token of her +abhorrence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Suppose that they should not return," she +said.</p> + +<p>"All right," replied Slocumb, brutally impervious. +"<i>I'll</i> take yer home, if they don't."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," faltered Claire. This view of the +question gave her a new shock. It was like hearing +that the ferry-boats between New York and Greenpoint +had stopped running for the night. "But I +won't trouble you," she added, trying to make her +voice and mien indifferently calm. "I will wait here +a little while, and then, if I don't find Josie, I will go +home alone."</p> + +<p>"Go home alone?" repeated Slocumb, with a sort +of sympathetic interrogation that was detestable to +her. "Why, how far is it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not very far," she replied, turning her back +on him, and feeling that in another moment she +might treat his offensive persistence with the blunt +rigor it deserved.</p> + +<p>"I thought you was livin' over to Greenpoint," +said Slocumb, shifting with tough pertinacity round +to her side.</p> + +<p>What a man of cleaner life and thought would +simply have praised as sweet and chaste about her +fired in this corrupt oaf his one gross substitute for +sentiment. She could no more appeal to him by her +fineness of line, coloring, or movement than the field-flower +when cropped by the brute mouth whose appetite +its very grace and perfume may perhaps whet. +And Claire divined this. Pure things know impure +ones, all through the large scheme of nature. +There are nicer grades of intelligence, of course, as +we move along the upward scale of such antagonisms. +The milk will not cloud till we dilute it with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +the ink-drop, but a white soul can usually note a +black one by earlier and wiser signals of alarm.</p> + +<p>"Why should I not go home alone?" Claire had +been saying to herself. "No one would know me—I +could reach the Tenth Street Ferry—I could ask +some one, and get the right car—Yes, I will try no +more to find Josie—I will break away from this low +creature—I have enough money to bring me safely +home—I don't care; I will take my chances and slip +off—he will not follow me when he sees me shun +him like that."</p> + +<p>She ignored his last remark. She did not even +glance at him where he now stood. Her gaze was +fixed on the crowd, and she was watching to find a +brief break in its edge, through which she might flit +and be lost. The next instant such a chance came. +Claire seized it. She made an oblique dart through +the large doorway, slanted her nimble steps across +the pavement, and was soon breasting the adverse +tide, so to speak, of a little human sea. Each man +or woman stood in the place of a choppy, obstructive +wave. At every moment poor Claire found herself +gently buffeting a new impediment, male or female, +as the case might be. Since she wanted to move in +a course different from that of nearly every one before +or beside her, the carrying out of her object involved +a good amount of determined propulsion. But +she at length gained the open, as it were. She had +now only to strike along in a northerly direction +until she reached the point at which a certain line of +small cars crossed Broadway. She was not sure at +just what street this intersection occurred; she knew +that it was by no means near by. A cumbrous omnibus +rolled clamorously toward her, and for a mo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>ment +she was inclined to hail it; but a swift look +into its lighted space, well freighted with passengers, +made her shrink from the concentration of stares that +her sex and loneliness must equally provoke. The +publicity of the long, lamp-fringed sidewalk, with its +incidents of potential if not always tangible policemen, +expressed, after all, a more secure privacy. +When she took one of the little trundling cars which +would bring her eastward to the ferry, she would not +be forced to clamber and stoop and stagger before +getting a seat. Their mode of conveyance, too, would +be somehow more safely plebeian; they would hold +their last fragments of the work-a-day world going +back to Greenpoint; in case of insult, she might have +her final appeal to some reputable occupant bound +for the same destination as herself.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the big-bodied omnibus clattered by. +Claire had resolved to walk. The high-perched +driver had not seen her pause, hurry to the curbstone, +and then lift a hand which was straightway +dropped at the bidding of her changed mood. But +this action, while it wrought delay in her progress, +rendered somewhat earlier her meeting with one who +still obstinately pursued her. Just as she had again +started, with slightly quickened pace, the inexterminable +Slocumb appeared at her side. He seemed to +have used no effort in catching up with her. There +was a terrible ease in the way his length of limb accommodated +its free stride to Claire's more repressed +motions. He had not immediately given chase. She +had got rather deep into the crowd about the theatre-doors +before his impudence, positive as it always was, +had trumped up sufficient real nerve to follow her. +Claire continued walking; but she looked at him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +with fixity as she said, "I suppose you saw that I +wanted to go alone."</p> + +<p>"'T aint right, nohow," he replied, peering into +her face with his bad, hard eyes. "A putty gal like +you hadn't ought t' walk the streets all by herself +after dark. You lemme go along. Don' look scared; +I wouldn't hurt ye fur a cent."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not afraid of you," said Claire, between +her teeth. "Why should I be?"</p> + +<p>"That's the ticket. W'y should ye be?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want your company. I have shown this +to you, and now I tell it to you."</p> + +<p>Slocumb laughed. It seemed to Claire that his +laugh had the cold of ice and the thrust of steel in it. +His lowered arm touched hers with intentional pressure, +but she swerved sideways, at once thwarting +the contact. He, however, promptly narrowed the +distance thus made between them.</p> + +<p>"Say!" he now broke forth, in peculiar, confidential +undertone, as though a third party were listening. +"W'at ye mad fur, hey? You was along with +Jimmy MacNab, wasn't ye? An' wasn't we intrerdooced +all reg'lar? I'm a better feller 'n Jim, any +day in the year. Jus' gimme a show. Won't ye? +Say, now, <i>won't</i> ye? I took a dead shine to you the +minnit I clapped eyes on them two nice pink cheeks—blowed +if I didn't! I sez to myself, 'She can walk +round any gal I've seen fur a devil of a time,' I sez."</p> + +<p>Claire looked straight ahead. She still went +quickly along. Her feet and limbs felt light, almost +void of sense. Fear had to do with this, and she +was keenly frightened. For the first time in her life +she knew the terror that feminine honesty has when +fronted with the close chance of physical insult.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>Slocumb justified her dread. He had no more regard +for common laws of restraint than the majority +of untamed brutes, when conscious, as in his case, of +firm thews and active bulk. As for moral bravery, +his nature harbored no concern with such nicer elements. +The only vices he did not possess were those +for which he had never known an hour of temptation. +His father had drank himself to death, and he inherited +what was perhaps an embryo taste in the +same direction. He got drunk once a fortnight, now, +in his twenty-seventh year, whereas, two years ago, +these diversions had been much rarer; in a decade, +under his uncontrolled conditions, there was a fair +chance of his becoming a sot. To speak more generally, +the vast social momentum of heredity, which +seems to be so plainly understood and so ill appreciated +in our golden century, had Slocumb well in its +stern grip. There were no outward incident forces, as +the philosophic phrase goes, to make his case in any +way a hopeful one. He had seen Claire; he had exchanged +a word with her; he had liked her. If his +liking were put in the baldest form of explanation it +would have to deal with rather darksome realisms. +And it is always preferable that the pursuant satyr +and the unwilling nymph be treated wholly from the +poetic and picturesque point of view.</p> + +<p>Claire would not speak. She was very frightened, +as before has been recorded: she seemed to see, between +the gloomy interspaces of the lamps, a phantasmal +semblance of her father, looking untold rebuke +at her, and then vanishing only to reappear. +She walked onward with fleet energy. An idea shot +through her mind that she might call a policeman to +rid her of this incubus. But she dismissed the idea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +at once. It was too savagely desperate even for the +confronting dilemma.</p> + +<p>By this time Slocumb had begun to see plainly +that Claire was proof against all his known methods +of conquest. But she was unprotected, and he had +a dogged dislike of giving up the siege. The silence +continued for nearly five blocks. During this time +his eyes scarcely once left her face, gleaming distinct +or dim as the lamplight waxed or waned.</p> + +<p>"Say!" he at length re-addressed her. "Ain't ye +hungry? I was thinkin' a stew would go putty good, +just now, or a dish o' ice-cream. P'r'aps ye'd rather +tackle sumpn sweet. Hey?"</p> + +<p>She made no answer. He peered closer into her +face, and repeated the last odious little interrogative +monosyllable a good many times. But Claire remained +as mute and irresponsive as though it had +fallen on stone-deaf ears.</p> + +<p>This lure suddenly held out to appetite was his +last persuasive stroke. It sprang naturally enough +from the man who dealt it. It expressed in the most +exhaustive terms just how narrow and barren his +conception was of Claire's reasons for shunning him. +He stood as the hideous result of a hideous phase of +society; and he could no more divine or imagine +higher and richer levels of life than if to know of +these had meant to be familiar with the soil and +climates of a remote star.</p> + +<p>He was disappointed and chagrined, but not angry. +Anger could not consort with his present state; another +kind of heat already filled his veins; one flush +kept the other aloof. He had now decided that +Claire was not to be conciliated, and yet the perfect +lawlessness of his past made him in a manner unable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +to snap the bond of attraction and leave her. Self-control +was a sealed book to him; he had not even +opened its cover, apart from learning its rudimentary +lessons.</p> + +<p>When they had gone five or six blocks further, and +the street at which Claire would take the cross-town +car was by no means far away, he abruptly caught +her arm and drew it close to his side, so holding it +with an exertion of purely muscular strength, beside +which her own resistance counted for little more than +the flutter of a bird.</p> + +<p>Even at this most trying juncture she still moved +on. He continued to walk, as well. She veered her +face toward his, however, forced out of all her previous +pitiful disdain, and he saw that she had grown +pale as death.</p> + +<p>"Let me go," she said. "Don't dare to hold me +like this!"</p> + +<p>"Look here!" he returned, his tones taking a +nasal whisper, and his breath sweeping so close to +her nostrils that she caught in it a stale taint, as of +liquor drank some time ago. "I wouldn't harm a +hair o' your head; you can jus' bet on that. I've +took a likin' to you, an' I'll treat ye good. If you +wus a lady livin' up t' Fifth Avenyer, ye wouldn't +git more respectfuller behaved to nur I'll do."</p> + +<p>"If you don't let me go," said Claire, gasping a +little as she got out the words, "I'll complain to the +first policeman we meet."</p> + +<p>He dropped her arm at once, stopping short. +"D' ye mean it?" he asked, with great show of reproach. +"Say! d' ye mean it?"</p> + +<p>But Claire hurried on. She had a wild momentary +hope that she had hit at random upon a blessed source<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +of deliverance. Here, however, she had quite miscalculated. +Slocumb's outburst had merely formed +a bit of the cheap sentimentality which one of his +race and stamp would select as the lame makeshift in +a forlorn cause.</p> + +<p>It chanced that when Claire reached the desired +corner a car was opportunely passing. She signaled +to it; the driver saw her; it stopped, and she entered +it. Meanwhile Slocumb had kept at her side, though +with the distance between them materially widened. +She paid no heed to the question of whether or not +he entered with her. The car was entirely empty as +she took her seat. A little later she slipped a five-cent +piece into the small glass repository for passengers' +fares—that touching proof of the confidence +reposed in drivers by those who employ them. +Shortly afterward she saw Slocumb standing on the +outer platform. Her heart and courage almost failed +her, then. He presently walked inside the car, and +paid his fare, as she had done. She expected him to +sit down and resume his persecutions, but he did +neither. He went out again and stood on the platform.</p> + +<p>The little car jingled along Eighth Street. It +passed the grim, bastard architecture of the Mercantile +Library, once, long ago, an opera house, in which +Steffenone sang to assemblages where a gentleman +in evening-dress or a lady without her bonnet was +a rare enough incident, and nothing prophesied the +horse-shoe of resplendent boxes before which Patti +and Nilsson have since revealed their vocal charms. +Soon afterward it came to Third Avenue, easily betrayed +by the flare of gaslight in beer-saloon or liquor-shop, +and a thoroughfare in which night revelry seems<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +to have claimed especial stronghold. Near at hand, +that hideous monument of philanthropy, the Cooper +Union, frowns its unavailing displeasure upon the +malt of Schneider and the alcohol of Moriarty, both +of which project their noxious forces southward +through the Bowery to the City Hall, and northward +across many reputable side streets on to the shabby +vulgarity of Harlem.</p> + +<p>But Claire was naturally unprepared, just now, +either to recognize or ponder the importance of this +great popular boulevard which we call Third Avenue; +how it blends our ruling Irish and German elements +in one huge strand of commercial interests, each petty +by itself, yet all, when massed together, of enormous +metropolitan note; how its very name is pronounced +with a mild sneer by our so-called better classes; how +it is held common and of ill repute; how one must +not speak of it in a Fifth Avenue drawing-room, lest +he shall be suspected of having trodden its tainted +pavements; and yet how there pulses through its big, +tough artery nearly all the hot, impure political blood +that feeds the venality of our elective systems, making +it for this reason a fact to be always deplored +but never lightly dismissed. Should the sombre +growl against that sin of over-possession which we +term monopoly ever grow into a revolutionary roar, +it is very thinkable that the Robespierre of such an +event would be born in Third Avenue; but if not, +he might safely be depended on for having near relations +there. The little car presently crossed Second +Avenue, at its most quiet portion. All the garish +brilliance had now quite vanished. Once beloved of +respectability, this broad street, here in what we +designate its lower portion, has preserved abundant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +souvenirs of perished fame. Many of the roomy old +mansions that line it may be dispeopled of their pristine +Knickerbockers, but even these retain much of +their old stately repose. Up beyond, the tenement-house +thrives, and the tavern flaunts a bottle-decked +casement; but here, within generous limits, it remains +a quarter full of decent though not dismal +gloom, and touched with an occasional solid grandeur.</p> + +<p>The car soon advanced into a very different region. +It had reached one of the two long if not deep river-edges +which skirt the central domain of our wealth +and thrift. That squalor which dogs the heel of +poverty was everywhere manifest. The very street-lamps +seemed to burn with a dejected flicker. Night, +however, was kind, and spared from view much unsightly +soilure. The high brick houses, thronged +with inmates whom all degrees of want and all modes +of toil oppressed, lost themselves in shadow; but now +and then you caught glimpses of the liquid filth clogging +the gutters, and perhaps of a half-submerged +cabbage-leaf or a more buoyant egg-shell, to fleck its +slime with baleful color. Here spoke a crying municipal +disgrace. The prosperous part of our city +has its streets kept cleanly throughout the year, but +dread injustice is wreaked upon these that are skirted +by abodes of penury and need. Fat appropriations +are of no avail; the tax-money slips into fingers that +are deft in legerdemain; fraud and mismanagement +meet as friends; it is not enough that our beautiful +island must crowd her shores with all the disfeaturing +accompaniments of commerce; she is forced, as well, +to see them polluted, far inland, by the foulness born +of bad legislation. This is one of the too frequent +cases where, in our enlightened polity, democracy +plays wantonly into the hands of monarchism.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>A little later the car came into a wide, airy expanse, +along two of whose sides it journeyed for a +considerable distance. Here was Tompkins Square, +now lighted with innumerable lamps, but only a few +years ago a dark horror to all decent citizens living +near it. By day set aside as a parade-ground for the +city militia, which paraded there scarcely twice a +year, its lampless lapse of earth was by night at least +four good acres of brooding gloom, which he who +ventured to cross stood the risk of thievish assault, if +nothing more harmful. What added to the unique +repulsiveness of the place for peace-loving denizens +of its near streets, was an occasional concourse of +growling and saturnine German socialists, held with +stormy harangues and blood-thirsty diatribes under +moon or star, and amid the congenial environing +shadow, which was relieved, on these lurid occasions, +by torches whose fitful flames typified the feverish +theories disclosed.</p> + +<p>But the car now passed a very different Tompkins +Square from that of old. The grim blank has become, +since then, a bright-lit realm where the tramp +may fall prone on some of its many neat-built +benches, but where the highwayman will find slim +chance to ply his fell trade. When this region had +been passed there remained only a brief space to be +traversed before the ferry was reached. The avenues +by this time had ceased to be numerically named; +they had become alphabetical. But Avenues A, B, +C, and D are all quite homogeneous as regards dolorous +discomfort. The city here hides some of its +worst lairs, and many a desperado infests them. After +a little journey, such as Claire now took, you gain +the small, dull-looking ferry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile seven or eight new passengers had entered +the car. They were mostly Germans, and of +both sexes. Claire felt a sense of protection. One +stout woman, of truly colossal build, with a sleeping +baby in her arms and an evident husband so hollow-cheeked +and slight that it seemed wrong for him even +to assume the responsibility of paying their double +fare, especially reassured her. The rest were commonplace +people enough. One was a weary work-girl; +one was a collier, grimy with his trade and +drowsy from drink; one was a dapper, bejeweled +Hebrew, with oily amber whiskers and large, loose +red lips; still another was a handsome young woman, +smartly geared, who had said good-night, on entering, +to a male escort, and who now glanced uneasily about +her at intervals, as though fearful of being known. All +this while Slocumb remained on the outer platform.</p> + +<p>Presently the car stopped. Everybody alighted. +The Tenth Street Ferry was close at hand. Claire +knew that her hateful adherent was close at hand +also. She paid her toll to the ferryman and glided +through the narrow bit of passage-way forth upon +the long dark dock beyond. She expected, at every +new step, to be re-accosted by Slocumb. A boat +had landed, and was soon to disembark again. From +the opposite dimness came an ominous clank of +chains, made by the men at either of the two wheels, +and a sudden "All aboard!" flung out in gruff tones +as a stimulating monition. The other passengers all +hastened forward. Claire was among them, though +in the rear of the hurry. The foremost had gained +the boat, when she felt a strong clutch upon her arm. +Compelled by sheer force to pause, now, she turned, +meeting Slocumb's face quite near her own. He at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +once spoke, in the same intimate sort of whisper that +she had before found so distressing.</p> + +<p>"Say! 'T ain't right t' shake me like this. I ain't +goin' t' stand it, either. Come, change your mind. +Treat me square. Will ye?"</p> + +<p>Claire, driven to bay, did what her sex is sometimes +held by a few renowned cynics as having a special +talent for doing; she employed stratagem.</p> + +<p>Her voice shook as she said: "Very well. What +is it you wish me to do?"</p> + +<p>She could feel the tense grasp upon her arm relax +a little. This was just the kind of result she had +aimed for.</p> + +<p>"I want ye t' stay this side the river a spell yet, +an' we'll eat somepn somewhere. Hey?"</p> + +<p>The fingers about her arm had acquired a fondling +laxity that half sickened her. But she waited a little. +They were a good ten yards from the boat. It was +possible that both their figures were too shadowed +for the men at the chains to see them. Perhaps, +on the other hand, these wardens did not care to +shout a final notice that the boat was now unmoored.</p> + +<p>Claire still chose to temporize. Her heart beat so +that it seemed about to burst through her side; but +she nevertheless kept her brain clear enough to maintain +a subtlety of intent in strange contrast to her +deep fear.</p> + +<p>She had determined to get free if she could, and +find refuge among the passengers on the boat. Here, +in the lonely dusk of the dock, she was at a sad disadvantage; +but once within the lighted cabin of the +boat, she could find the same silent protection of +mere surrounding that the car had afforded. She +had a latent resolve, also, of future appeal to some of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +those whom she knew had preceded her, though this +formed no real part of her present quick-formed +scheme.</p> + +<p>"Suppose that I do go with you," she said. "At +what time would I be able to get home?"</p> + +<p>Slocumb's grasp materially loosened. "Why, any +time at all!" he exclaimed. "The boats run till +'bout two o'clock or so, an'"—</p> + +<p>His sentence was cut short in its valuable explanation +by a sudden disengaging spring on the part of +Claire. She ran with her best speed toward the +boat. She now perceived that it was just leaving +the pier. By the time that she had gained almost +the extreme edge of the latter, a voice from the receding +boat itself cried out to her, "Don't jump!"</p> + +<p>She saw, then, that a long, curved crevice was +widening in a very rapid way at a slight space beyond +the spot where she had abruptly halted. A +few more seconds would make the leap a mere madness; +now it needed nerve, agility, and was indeed +a venture. But Slocumb stood behind her. The +risk was worth the prize. Claire waited perhaps ten +seconds; the crevice had grown a fissure; she saw +the murky water give a dull flash or two, far below +it. Then she jumped.</p> + +<p>The space had not been more than three feet. She +cleared it well. But <i>what she had cleared</i> sent a +sharp terror through her the instant after both feet +had touched the firm bourne of the deck. For a little +while she stood quite still, shivering, with her +back to the dock thus boldly quitted. Her mind was +wholly in a whirl. She did not hear the half-growled +words of one of the men who had lately unloosed the +boat, chiding her upon her folly, in gruff contempt of +syntax.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + +<p>But very soon this access of intense alarm lessened. +She partly ceased to fix her thought upon what she +had done, recalling instead, why she had done it. +She turned, giving two flurried looks to right and +left, doubtless from a sense that the abhorred one +might have breasted the same peril as herself—in +his case far lighter, of course.</p> + +<p>Her gaze swept the opposite pier. It gleamed +drowsy and obscure, with the effect of some grave +marine monster just risen from the muddy tides below +it. Strangely, also, the lights at either side gave +it the semblance of two malign blazing eyes. And +in the glimmer thus made Claire saw Slocumb.</p> + +<p>He had not taken the leap. At first amazement +had wrought in him its brief yet telling effect. +Then he had dashed to the end of the pier, momentarily +furious at thus being balked. But in a second +his fury had cooled. And something had cooled it, +very new to him, though very forcible. This was +pity. He might easily have cleared the interspace. +But he forbore to do so. He thrust both hands into +his pockets, and with lowered head moved away. In +an instant more it was too late for him to have +changed his novel resolve, even had he so wished.</p> + +<p>By the time that Claire's look lighted upon the +pier he was nowhere visible. He had disappeared +from her sight forever, as also from her life. He had +been a dread though brief experience—a glimpse +given her into the melancholy darkness of human +wrong. The shadows had seemed to take him back +among themselves, where he rightly belonged. Perhaps +the episode of his insolence wrought some sort +of effect upon her future acts; it is certain that she +never quite forgot the miserable dismay he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +roused; and when the struggle for worldly success +afterward spurred her with so keen a goad, some +vague remembrance of to-night may have quickened +her aspiring impulses and made what we call the socially +best gain fresh worth in her eyes by contrast +with such foul deeps as lie below it.</p> + +<p>Once confident that Slocumb had not followed her, +she managed, with unsteady pace, to reach the outer +rail of the deck and lean against it while the boat +traversed the river. She was trembling a good deal, +and felt an extreme weakness as well. But a glow +of triumph upbore her. She had escaped at last!</p> + +<p>The ugly boat, as it sped along, seemed a sentient +accomplice of her final good fortune. She had a +fancy that its thick wooden rail dumbly throbbed beneath +her grasp. Her posture was a half-cowering +one; the spell of her poignant fears had not yet +passed. Her head leaned itself peeringly from +stooped shoulders in such a way that its slim neck +took the sort of curve we see in a frightened deer's.</p> + +<p>A somewhat late moon had recently risen, whose +advent had altered the whole face of the heavens, +flooding it with a spectral, yellowish light. But +borne rapidly across the moon's blurred disk, on some +high, fleet rush of air, scudded volumes of rolling and +mutable vapor. They constantly soared above the +great dusky city, at first in dense black masses, then +thinning and lengthening as they came midway between +zenith and horizon. While Claire watched +these strange and volatile clouds, so incessant in their +motion and so swift in their continual upward stream, +they took, for her confused fancy, the semblance of +pursuant phantom shapes. They formed themselves +into visages and bodies; they stretched forth uncouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +yet life-like arms; they clenched hands of misty +gloom, and shook them far above her, with ghostly, +imminent defiance. Her former transit across the +river had been fraught with sweet, poetic mystery; +her present voyage was one touched with a kind of +allegoric terror.</p> + +<p>But the boat soon found its second wharfage. +Claire sped out through the two cabins in time to +join the crowd of disembarking passengers. Once +more back in Greenpoint, she hurried along certain +familiar streets until she arrived at her own dwelling. +It was now a little after ten o'clock. She had an instinct +that it was about this time. Above the high +piazza, both parlor-windows were dark, but below it +the windows of the basement portion were brightly +lit. She passed into the scant space of garden and +sought the lower door; she pulled the bell, set in the +woodwork at her right, and waited.</p> + +<p>No answer came, and she rang again. One of the +side-lights gave her a good view into the hall beyond. +She presently saw her mother appear. Mrs. Twining +opened the door. It was not till she and her daughter +stood face to face that the latter made a certain +sharp, abrupt discovery.</p> + +<p>"Mother!" she said, "you're pale—you look +very strange. Is it because I staid away so long?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Mrs. Twining.</p> + +<p>Claire grasped her mother's arm with both hands. +"Then what is it?" she questioned. "You don't +mean that—that Father's sick? <i>Do</i> you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining was white as death, and had dark +rings round her fine black eyes. She laughed with +great bitterness as she closed the door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she said. "Your father ain't sick, +Claire."</p> + +<p>These few words teemed, somehow, with a frightful +irony. Claire knew her mother's moods so well +that she now staggered backward a little as the two +faced each other in this narrow hallway.</p> + +<p>"Mother," she said, with a gasp, "what do you +mean? Has anything <i>happened</i> to Father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Twining with a cruelty that +Claire never forgot and never forgave. "Your father's +dead. He died at nine o'clock. The doctor's +here now. He says it's heart-disease. You're a +nice gadabout, to be off for hours, nobody knows +where, and come home to find" ...</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining ended her sentence at just this +point, for Claire had dropped in a swoon before the +next word could be spoken, upon the oil-cloth of the +little hall which her own hands had so often swept.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">That</span> night was one of anguish and horror. As +soon as enough strength had come to her with the +return of consciousness, Claire insisted upon being +taken to where her father lay. Not a tear left her +eyes as she knelt beside his body. She was very +white, and seemed perfectly calm. She kissed the +dead man, now and then, on forehead and cheek. +Once she rose, went to the window, and set both +arms lengthwise upon its sash, propping her chin +against her clasped hands. In this attitude she stared +forth at the heaven, still full of moony light and still +alive with its black pageantry of hurrying clouds. +But their motion was more quick, now; the wind +had grown stronger and colder; all touch of mildness +was rapidly vanishing from the atmosphere. Claire +felt the panes shake, and heard them rattle, as she +leaned thus. There seemed an awful sympathy between +this wild phase of nature and her own tumultuous, +distraught sensations.</p> + +<p>Grief and alarm clashed within her soul. She +could not simply and passionately regret her father's +loss, for the thought of her own friendless and penurious +state would thrust itself into her consciousness. +Her feelings of pure bereavement, of standing +face to face with a vast and stern solitude, of having +had something torn from her heart by the roots, were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +terrible enough. But none the less, on this account, +could she fail to think with inward thrills of fright +on the subject of her merely material future. In an +hour or two something solidly defensive had been +shattered and swept away. Her father's protection +had kept aloof, so to speak, the huge, merciless forces +of society. Now these forces were rushing upon her +like yonder stream of antic-shaped clouds.</p> + +<p>"What is to become of me?" she murmured aloud, +not knowing that she spoke at all. "Who will help +me? Where shall I turn? I am so alone—so fearfully +alone!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining had come into the room, as it +chanced, a moment before the utterance of Claire's +first words. It was now a little before midnight; she +had entered this chamber of death twice before, and +had looked at her daughter's kneeling figure, there +beside the corpse, but had retired again in silence. +Now she spoke, as Claire finished speaking. The +girl turned instantly as she began.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, in her most hard and curt way. +"I s'pose you <i>are</i> alone, now <i>he's</i> gone! You ain't +got any mother, of course not! She's a cipher; she +always was. You're going to quit her, I dare say; +you're going to leave her in the lurch. P'raps you'll +find some of those you was with to-night that'll see +you don't come to grief. Well, 't ain't for me to +complain at this late day. I've had chance enough +to take your measure, Miss, long ago!"</p> + +<p>There was a look of dreary fatigue on Claire's +white face as she slowly answered: "Mother, I will +not leave you. I don't wish to leave you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't, eh? Then why did you say you +was <i>alone</i>?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did I say it?" returned Claire. She put one +hand to her forehead. "I—I must have spoken +aloud without knowing it." ... Immediately afterward +she crossed the room, going very close to her +mother's side, and looking with eager meaning into +the cold, austere, aquiline face.</p> + +<p>"Don't be unkind to-night," she went on. "Remember +this dreadful thing that has happened. It—it +ought to—to soften you, Mother. It has nearly +crazed <i>me</i>. I cannot reason; I can scarcely think. +I—I can only suffer!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining curled her mouth in bitter dissent. +"Oh, you didn't know the poor man was sick when +you ran off and staid for hours. No, indeed! If +you had, you wouldn't 'a' worried him as you did +when he come home to tea and found you gone. He +fell like a log, just as he got up from the table. But +he hadn't eaten hardly a thing, and I guess you +know why he didn't."</p> + +<p>Claire uttered a quick, flurried cry. She grasped +her mother's arm. "You—you don't mean," she +exclaimed, in a piteously fierce way, "that <i>I</i> killed +Father—or—or hastened his death by—by not +being home? Oh, say, Mother, that you don't mean +this! It would drive me mad if I believed so! +Please say it isn't true!"</p> + +<p>Claire's aspect breathed such desperation that it +wrought havoc even with so stolid a perversity as +that of the harsh, unpropitiable being whom she confronted.</p> + +<p>"Well, no, I don't say <i>that</i>," murmured Mrs. Twining, +with sullen alteration of mien and tone. "But +I <i>do</i> say, Claire, that you was off somewhere, and <i>he</i> +was fretted and pestered because you was, and" ...<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here the peculiar nature of this most tormenting +woman suddenly revealed a change. Her grim mouth +twitched; her nostrils produced a kind of catarrhal +sniff; her cold black eyes winked, as if tears were +lurking to assail them. The next words that she +spoke were in a high, querulous key.</p> + +<p>"Oh! so you're the only one that's fit to mourn +for that poor dead one, hey? I, his lawful wedded +wife, and your own mother, ain't got any right to +grieve! Oh, very well! I'm nobody at all, here. I'd +better get away. You're chief mourner. There's +nobody but you. I s'pose you'll pay all the expenses +of the funeral, since you're so dreadful stuck-up +about it!"</p> + +<p>Claire shook her head, in a pathetic, conciliating +way. She lifted one finger, at the same time. Her +face was still white, and her dark-blue eyes were +burning feverishly.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Mother!" she said. "This is all wrong. +You mustn't speak like that, here. If you didn't love +him, I did. There's a little money yet. It's yours, +but you'll give it; you've told me of it; it will be +enough to bury Father decently. I promise you that +if you <i>do</i> give it I will try very hard to get some +work that will support us both."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining put a hand on either hip. She +stared at Claire for a moment. Then she answered +her.</p> + +<p>"No," she said. "I won't give a cent of it. It's +only about a hundred dollars. He ain't led me such +a nice life that I should be so awful grateful to him +now he's gone. There's ways of burying that don't +cost money. Yes, there's ways.... Let 'em come +and take him. I ain't going to beggar myself because +he wants a rosewood coffin, and"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Mother!" cried Claire, pointing toward the dead, +"he is <i>here</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well!" said Mrs. Twining. She spoke the +two brief words in a sort of abrupt whimper, taking +a step or two toward the calm sheeted form of her +dead husband. "S'pose he <i>is</i> here. I can't use that +money, and I won't!"</p> + +<p>Claire felt the hideous taste of those words. They +who have thus far read this chronicle must have read +it ill if they are not sure that no love for a mother +so ceaselessly froward and hostile could now survive +in her daughter's heart. But though she knew her +mother capable of dread acts if occasion favored, +Claire was thunderstruck by this last announcement.</p> + +<p>It appeared to her monstrous and barbarous, as it +indeed was. She clenched both hands, for an instant, +and her eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>"Say what you mean!" she retorted, not raising +her voice, because of that piteous reverence which the +still, prone shape inspired. "<i>Can</i> you mean that you +will let charity bury our dead for us? <i>Can</i> you mean +that?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining gave a quick, grim nod. "Yes, I do +mean it," she returned. "And if you wasn't a fool +you'd see why."</p> + +<p>Claire folded her arms. Her next words came with +grave, measured composure from white, set lips. "I +may be a fool," she said, "but thank God I haven't +your kind of wisdom! Keep your money, Mother. +Do as you threaten. But when Potter's Field takes +poor Father's body, that will be the end of everything +between you and me. Remember that I said +this. I will never speak to you, never notice you +again, if you do so shameful a thing. If you spend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +that money as duty and as decency should both +prompt, I will work for you, slave for you, cling to +you always. But if not, we are no longer mother +and daughter. You see, I don't speak with heat or +with haste. I am perfectly calm. Now choose which +course you will take. But never say that I did not +fully warn you, when it will be too late for retraction!"</p> + +<p>There was a splendidly quiet impressiveness in this +speech of Claire's. She went and knelt once more +beside her father's body after she had finished it. +She had resolved upon no further entreaty or argument. +The very atrocity of her mother's proposed +design seemed to place continued discussion of it beyond +the pale of all womanly dignity.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining was too coarse a soul to see the +matter as Claire saw it. She preferred to take the +chances that her daughter would relent when the +ignoble interment was over.</p> + +<p>To-morrow came, and she gave no sign of altering +her purpose. Claire scarcely addressed a word to +her during this day. A few of the Greenpoint folk +called at the house. Among these was Josie Morley, +distressed at the tidings of death, and prepared to +utter voluble regrets for having lost Claire in the +crowd during the previous night.</p> + +<p>But Claire would see no one. She remained with +her father's body in the little room upstairs, locking +its door when she thought there was any chance of <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'chance of a a'">a</ins> +visitor being brought thither.</p> + +<p>Now and then she wondered, with a dumb misery, +whether her mother had made any attempt to bring +about the loathed burial. She herself had a few dollars +in her possession. This sum she meant to use in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +seeking employment after the earth had closed over +her father's corpse. Once or twice a passionate impulse +had seized her to go and seek help from those +under whom her father had lately served in his +drudging clerkship. But she repressed this feeling—or +rather shame at the thought of possible refusal, +mixed with a natural proud reluctance to own the sad +need in which she stood, repressed it for her.</p> + +<p>The next day she learned the full, torturing truth. +Mrs. Twining had carried out her threat. Two +shabby men came with a pine box. They placed the +corpse herein. Claire had already paid it all the final +reverential rites which her sex and her grief would +allow. It was dressed in the same rusty outward +garments which it had worn when death came. The +men held a little discussion below stairs with Mrs. +Twining. They afterward departed and remained +away two good hours. When they returned they +brought a dark wagon with an arched top. In the +interval Claire still watched. She was quite silent. +Perhaps if she had deigned now to plead with her +mother, the latter, already a little frightened at the +girl's stony, unvaried calmness, might have relented +and agreed to more seemly obsequies. But except +one glance of immeasurable reproach, during a brief +visit which Mrs. Twining paid to the chamber, Claire +gave no further sign of revolt.</p> + +<p>When the men returned, she chanced to be looking +from the window. She saw the wagon. She shuddered, +and went back to her father. No one saw her +bid him the last farewells. She showed no trace of +tears when the men presently reëntered the room, +but her dark-blue eyes shone from her hueless face +with a dry, glassy glitter. Her mother now appeared.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +She looked at Claire in a covert, uneasy way, though +there was much dogged obstinacy about the lines of +her mouth. A moment later she spoke to the men. +It seemed to Claire like the refinement of hypocrisy +that she should set her voice in a mournful key.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose you want to get it through right away," +she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," replied one of the men. "Those +is always the orders."</p> + +<p>Claire went to the window again. It was a raw, +misty, drizzling day. She stared out into the dreary +street. She did not want to see that pitiful box +closed and sealed. She presently heard a grating +sound which told her just what the men were doing.</p> + +<p>And then she heard another sound that was quite +as harsh. It was her mother's voice, lowered, and +with a sort of whine in it.</p> + +<p>"It's true enough that the dead ought to be buried +properly, Claire, but that ain't any reason why the +living shouldn't live—the best way they can. You +take it hard now, but after a while you'll see you +ain't got any real right to blame me. You'll see"—</p> + +<p>"Don't touch me, please," interrupted Claire. +Her mother had laid a hand on her arm, and she had +receded instantly. Then she said, while steadying +her voice, though not caring whether the men heard +or no: "Did you intend going to—to the grave with +him?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining gave a great elegiac sigh. "Oh, no, +I couldn't stand it. I should break right down long +before I got there."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Claire, "I am going."</p> + +<p>One of the men looked up at her. He had a small, +round face, an odd blond tuft of beard, and a pair of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +mild blue eyes. He held his screw-driver thrust into +a screw while he spoke. His voice was very respectful. +He had noticed Claire's look and mien before; +he had a wife and children at home. Scarcely ever, +in his experience, had he known a burial of this sort +to take place from a dwelling as apparently thrifty +as the present one.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Miss," the man said, "but you +couldn't ride in the wagon. There's just room for +him and me." He indicated his companion by a little +motion of the head. "And there's three other +bodies. We're takin' 'em to the almshouse."</p> + +<p>"Where is the almshouse?" asked Claire. She +could not help giving her mother one shocked sidelong +glance while this question left her lips.</p> + +<p>"It's over in Flatbush," the man said.</p> + +<p>Claire went close up to his side. If he had not +seen the white distress in her face before, he must +plainly have seen it now. "I know where that is," +she said. "I could go there. The cars would take +me." She put her hand on the rough wood of the +box. The touch was so light that it resembled a caress. +"Would they let me go to—to the almshouse +and wait ... near <i>him</i> ... till he is buried?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining at once began to weep. Or rather, +she spoke in a wailing tone that indicated tears, even +if no tears really either gathered or fell.</p> + +<p>"Claire, you mustn't think of going! No, you +mustn't! Things are bad enough, as it is. Now, +promise me that you won't take any such notion! +<i>Do</i> promise!"</p> + +<p>Claire paid no heed to this outburst. She was +looking with eager fixity at the man. She had already +roused his sympathy; she felt certain of it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +his big, mild eye seemed to tell her so. "They +won't all be buried till about two o'clock," he said. +"There'll be five or six bodies to-day, I guess. If +you start from here in about an hour, Miss, you can +get to the buryin'-ground by just the right time. I'll +see to it you do." The speaker here turned and +winked one mild eye at his companion. The latter +was staring rather lifelessly at Claire. He had a +long, pale, tired-looking face.</p> + +<p>"All right," he muttered, apathetically, as if he +had not at all comprehended, but was willing to take +matters on trust.</p> + +<p>"I'll see to it that he ain't got in till you come," +pursued Claire's new friend. "The Potter's Field +ain't far from the County Buildings, as they call +'em. I s'pose you know how to get to Flatbush?" +He scratched his sandy shock of hair for an instant, +and told her just what cars to take.</p> + +<p>Claire put faith in him. Something made her do +so. When the pine box had been carried down stairs, +placed inside the dark wagon, and driven away, she +went to her own room and made a small, neat brown-paper +parcel. Her clothes were few enough, and she +left all of these except what seemed to her of vital +necessity. "I don't want to look like a tramp," she +told herself, with a darksome pleasantry. "I shall +not, either. I shall only be a poor, shabby girl with +a bundle."</p> + +<p>When she emerged from her room her mother met +her in the hall. Claire wore her bonnet. Mrs. Twining +gave a frightened whimper as she saw this and +the parcel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Claire," she said, "you ain't really going <i>to</i> +the—the grave?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," she said. Her tones were so frigid +and so melancholy that they caused a palpable start +in her who heard them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Claire," moaned her mother, "if you go, <i>I</i> +can't! I can't see him buried that way! Of course +<i>you</i> can, if you want!"</p> + +<p>"I do want," said Claire.</p> + +<p>"But you'll come back! you'll come home again!"</p> + +<p>As she was passing her mother, there in the hall, +Claire turned and faced her. "I shall never come +home again," she said, scarcely raising her voice +above a whisper. "You remember what I told you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining was no longer merely frightened; +she was terrified. "Claire!" she burst forth, "I +ain't done right, perhaps. But don't be headstrong—now, +don't! if you'd spoke to me yesterday—if +you'd even spoke to me this morning, I might, ... +well, I might, after all, have given the money. But +it's too late now, and" ...</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is too late now," Claire interrupted, and +somehow with the effect of a shaft, shot noiselessly, +and tellingly aimed.</p> + +<p>After that she hurried straight down stairs, passed +along the lower hall, and made rapid exit from the +house.</p> + +<p>A number of heads had been thrust from neighboring +windows while the body was being borne +away. Claire, who endured what was thus far the +supreme humiliation of her life, wondered whether +any one was watching now, but she kept her eyes +drooped toward the pavement as she moved along, +and never once looked to left or right. She despised +these possible watchers, and yet she remembered +what her dead had been—how kindly, how pure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +how noble; and it was to her sense an infamy that +his ignominious burial should be made a theme of +vulgar gossip.</p> + +<p>"He is to be put in Potter's Field," she told her +own aching, bursting heart, while she still hurried +along. "Yes, <i>he</i>! And he was so good, so fine, so +much a gentleman! He is to be put in Potter's +Field!... But I will see the last sod placed over +him.... That man <i>will</i> keep his word.... I shall +stand by poor Father, his only mourner. He will be +glad if he knows. What a slight thing it is to do for +him, after all the love he gave me! But it is all I +<i>can</i> do. All, and yet so little!"</p> + +<p>A dreary ride in the cars at last brought her to +Flatbush. After alighting she had quite a long walk +through the gray, foggy atmosphere of a region +which the sweetest mood of spring or summer finds +no spell to beautify. It was now as hideous and +lonesome as that hateful tract just beyond Greenpoint. +The immense gloomy structures of the almshouses +loomed beside the path she took. The conductor +on the car had told her just how to reach the +pauper graveyard. It lay at some distance from the +grim buildings that she was obliged to pass, and +within whose walls were prisoned the sin, the sickness +and the madness of a great city.</p> + +<p>Nothing could be more common, more neglectful, +more wretchedly melancholy, than the place she at +length gained. It was scarcely an acre in extent; +it did not contain a single tree or shrub; it was enclosed +by a fence of coarse, careless boarding. Its +graves were so thick that you could scarcely pass +between them. In each grave had been laid four +bodies, and excepting a pathetic half-dozen or so of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +simple wooden crosses, there were no signs to tell +who slept here, except rough, low stakes, each bearing +four numbers. Never was the oblivion of death +more sternly typified; never was its dark mockery +more dolefully accentuated!</p> + +<p>A little group of men stood near an open grave as +Claire reached the gate. She saw them, and recognized +one of them, who advanced toward her. She +felt herself grow slightly faint as she perceived a box +placed just at the rim of the earthy cavity.</p> + +<p>"Was I in time?" she asked of the man, as they +walked together inside the enclosure.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, with a very kind voice. "You +was just in time, Miss. All the others is turned in +except him. I saved him on purpose."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> same afternoon, about two hours later, Claire +was in New York. She had crossed thither, spurred +by an idea born of her desperation. It was a forlorn +hope; it was like the straw clutched by the sinking +hand; and yet it formed a comforting preventive +against complete despair. She had remembered her +old friend at Mrs. Arcularius's school, the plump-cheeked +and yellow-haired Sophia Bergemann. She +had determined to seek her out and ask her aid in +obtaining work. Years had elapsed since Claire and +Sophia had met; but if the buxom young creature +had preserved even half of her old amiable friendship, +there was excellent chance of cordial welcome +and kindly assistance.</p> + +<p>'I only hope that she still lives in Hoboken,' +Claire thought, while taking the journey across town. +'Suppose the family have left there. Suppose I cannot +find Sophia. Suppose that she is married and +has gone to live elsewhere—in Europe, perhaps. +Suppose that she is dead.'</p> + +<p>More than once, before she had reached the central +part of the city, Claire felt herself grow weak +with dread. Night would soon approach. She had +money enough to get lodgment, but in her ignorance +and her loneliness how could she secure it? Her +mother's face, clothed with the old mocking smile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +repeatedly rose before her fancy. She seemed to +see the hard, bitter mouth frame certain sentences. +"Oh, you'll come back," it seemed to say. "You've +got to. You can't go gallivanting round New York +after dark. I ain't afraid. Oh, you'll come back to +Greenpoint, <i>sure</i>!"</p> + +<p>'I will never go back,' Claire said to her own +thoughts, answering this phantasmal sort of taunt. +'No, not if I walk the streets to-night and many +another night. Not if I have to beg for food. Not +if I die of hunger. I will never go back <i>there</i>! No, +no, no!'</p> + +<p>There was nothing theatrically fervid about this +silent resolve. The girl was quite capable of confronting +any sharp ill rather than remeet the woman +who had so pitilessly outraged her most sacred instincts. +She knew well enough that her mother confidently +counted upon her return. She knew well +enough that her mother would undergo wild alarm +on finding herself permanently deserted. Yet Claire, +with a grim desire of inflicting punishment for the +insult flung at her beloved dead, silently exulted in +what she could not help but deem a just and rightful +vengeance. True, her own act may have dealt the +vengeance; but did it not really spring from that +departed soul whose corpse had met the lash of so +undeserved an indignity? When Claire had reached +the centre of the city she suddenly determined to +seek Mrs. Arcularius's establishment. The school +might either have changed its locality or else ceased +to exist. Still, she would apply at the old quarters. +There she would inquire for Sophia Bergemann. +They might know nothing concerning the girl. But +if this resulted, she would still have all Hoboken left,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +in which the dwelling-place of so prominent a resident—even +though one of past time—would most +probably be known on inquiry. A throng of memories +beset her as she rang the bell of Mrs. Arcularius's +abode. The name of that august lady +gleamed on a large silver-plated square, affixed to +the second door, beyond the marble-paved vestibule. +A smartly-dressed maid answered her summons. +Claire stated in brief, civil terms what information +she desired to gain. The maid left her standing in +the well-known hall for several minutes, and at length +returned with the tidings, apparently fresh from the +lips of Mrs. Arcularius herself, that Miss Bergemann +was then living at No. — Fifth Avenue, only a slight +distance away.</p> + +<p>Claire felt a thrill of relief as she thanked the maid +and resought the street. This intelligence seemed a +most happy stroke of luck. It augured well for the +success of her sad little enterprise.</p> + +<p>The Fifth Avenue dwelling proved to be a mansion +of imposing <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'dismensions'">dimensions</ins>. It stood on a corner, +and had a wide window at one side of its spacious +entrance, and two at the other. From either panel +of its polished walnut door jutted a griffon's head +of bronze, holding a ring pendant from its tense +lips. Beyond the glossy plate-glass of the casements +gleamed misty folds of lace, and still further beyond +these you caught a charming glimpse of large-leaved +tropic plants in rich-hued vases. Claire pulled a +bronze bell-handle that was wrought in the likeness +of some close-folded flower. A dull yet distinct peal +ensued, having in its sound a trim directness that +suggested prompt and capable attendance from interior +quarters. While Claire waited for admission<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +she cast her look downward upon the middle street, +and across at the line of opposite residences, all +marked by a calm uniformity of elegance. The +sight was very new to her after Greenpoint, but at +the same time it stirred certain sources of youthful +recollection. Many carriages were passing. One or +two were shaped with fashionable oddity, having +only a single pair of huge wheels and a booted and +cockaded flunkey, who sat in cramped, oblique posture, +with his back to the other occupants, a lady +and a gentleman, and who seemed forever taking a +resigned plunge off the vehicle, with stoically folded +arms. Another was a heavy, sombre family coach, +with two men on the box, both clad in dark, dignified +livery. Still another was the so-called dog-cart, +borne along by a team of responsible silver-trapped +bays, and having on its second seat a footman graciously +permitted, in this instance, to face the horses +whose lustrous flanks his own hands had doubtless +groomed into their present brilliance. The two parallel +yet contrary streams of vehicles made an incessant +subdued clatter; numerous pedestrians were also +passing to and fro along either sidewalk; the weather +had changed again from harsh to clement; the strip +of clear, blue sky above the massive housetops wore +a shining delicacy and airiness of tint; even Claire's +new wound, that still bled unseen, could not distract +her from a buoyant congeniality with the prosperous +and festal tumult so amply manifest. She understood +then, and perhaps with a qualm of shame as +well, that no grief could quite repress, however transiently, +her love for life, action, and refined social intercourse. +The old desire to win a noted place among +those of her own kind who were themselves notable,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +quickened within her, too, as she gazed upon the +bright bustle and the palatial importance which were +both so near at hand.</p> + +<p>'Near,' she mused, 'and yet so far! Shall I ever +do what <i>he</i> bade me to do on that night long ago? +Shall I ever climb the hill? Shall I not grow tired +and sit down to rest? What chance have I <i>now</i> of +ever reaching the top? Where is the hand to help +me even ever so little? Will Sophia Bergemann do +it? Yes; if the ways of the world haven't changed +her since we met at school.'</p> + +<p>A man-servant, in what is termed full-dress, soon +opened the door, and Claire asked if Miss Sophia +Bergemann was at home. The man appeared to be +a very majestic person. Claire felt a good deal of +secret awe in his presence. He had a superb development +of the chest, a sort of senatorial nose, and +two oblong tufts of sorrel whisker, growing with a +mossy density close to either ear.</p> + +<p>But he was very civil, notwithstanding his grandeur. +He told Claire, in a rich voice that would have +deepened her veneration if it had not been blent with +a valiant North-of-Ireland brogue, that Miss Bergemann +was at home but about to leave the house for +a drive.</p> + +<p>The hall in which this announcement was made +glowed with sumptuous yet tasteful decorations. A +dark curve of heavy-balustered staircase, which four +or five persons might have ascended abreast, met the +eye only a short space away. From the lofty ceiling +depended a costly lamp of illumined glass. Soft, +thick tapestries of Turkish design drooped from several +near doorways. A fleet remembrance of the old +school-room sarcasms about the Bergemanns' vulgar +Hoboken home flashed through Claire's mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you tell Miss Sophia, please," she said, in +as firm and calm a tone as she could manage, "that +Miss Twining, whom she knew some years ago, +would like to speak with her?"</p> + +<p>The butler was about to reply, when a loud feminine +voice suddenly pealed from upper regions. In +reality it was the voice of a lady who had already +descended several steps of the broad, winding staircase; +but the lady was still in obscurity, and therefore +the liberal size of the house caused her tones to +sound as if they had come from a still greater distance. +"Michael," shrilled the voice, "I see the carriage +isn't here yet. It's nearly a quarter of an hour +behind time. Thomas has done this twice before in +one week. Now, you just send Robert straight +round to the stable, and let him say that we're very +angry about it, and that Ma won't put up with such +behavior if it ever happens again!"</p> + +<p>The butler had left Claire before the end of the +final belligerent sentence, and had moved, with a +certain military briskness, toward the first wide step +of the staircase.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Sophia," he said, employing his fine +sonorous voice so that it somehow had the effect of +not being unduly raised, though still strongly audible. +The next moment he turned toward Claire, with a +mien in which his natural official gravity gave sign +of being cruelly fluttered.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sophia is coming downstairs, Miss," he said.</p> + +<p>Claire had a swift feeling of gratitude for that +single word "Miss." She knew that she was dingily +clothed; she had fancied that all her claims to the +nicer grades of gentility lived solely within her mental +wish and hope; but she failed to perceive that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +her face was filled with those tender and sweet +charms which we term patrician, and that her least +gesture carried with it a grace which previous conditions +of culture alone have the art to bestow. It +was indeed true, as Michael had said, that Miss +Sophia was coming downstairs. Claire soon heard a +decisive rustle of robes, and presently a descendent +shape dawned upon her view, arrayed in very modish +costume.</p> + +<p>But the instant that Claire caught sight of Sophia +she recognized the plump, rubicund face, grown only +a trifle more womanly beneath its low-arranged floss +of yellow hair. She went forward to meet her old +friend. Just as Sophia left the last step of the staircase, +Claire had so managed that they stood very +near to each other.</p> + +<p>She did not put forth a hand. Her pale, beautiful +face had grown paler, through fear of some possibly +haughty reception. But she spoke the moment that +Sophia's round blue eyes had fairly met her own.</p> + +<p>"I hope you know me," she said. "I hope you +have not forgotten me."</p> + +<p>A blank, dismayed look possessed Sophia for a few +seconds, and then she put forth two hands which +were sheathed half-way up to the elbow in dull-brown +gloves, seizing both of Claire's hands the next instant.</p> + +<p>"Forgotten you!" she cried. "Why, you're +Claire Twining! Of course you are! And as pretty +as a picture, just as you always were! Why, you +dear old thing! Give me a kiss!"</p> + +<p>Claire felt the lips of the speaker forcibly touch +each of her cheeks. Sophia still held her hands. +The welcome had been too abruptly cordial. A mist +slipped before her sight and clouded her brain. She +staggered backward....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + +<p>Perhaps she would have fallen, if the magnificent +Michael had not been near enough to place a muscular +arm between herself and the floor. But she +rallied almost at once. And while clearness was returning +to her mind, she heard Sophia say, in imperious +yet hearty tones,—</p> + +<p>"Michael, take her into the reception-room! Now, +don't look so stupid! Do as I say!"</p> + +<p>Claire's attack, though more than partly past, still +left her weak. She allowed herself to be led, and +indeed half supported, by Michael. A little later +she was seated on a big, yielding lounge, with the +sense of a big, yielding pillow at her back. And +presently, close beside her, she saw the ruddy, broad-blown +face of Sophia, surmounted by a Parisian bonnet +of the most deft and dainty millinery.</p> + +<p>"Sophia," she said, breaking into a tremulous, pathetic +little laugh, "please don't—<i>please</i> don't think +I've lost my senses! But it—it was so good of you +to—remember me, after we hadn't met for such a +long time, that—that I"—</p> + +<p>Here Claire burst into an actual tempest of tears +and sobs, and immediately afterward felt Sophia's +hands again clasp both her own.</p> + +<p>"Michael!" cried her new hostess at the same moment, +in tones of imperative command, "for Heaven's +sake, don't stand staring there, but <i>do</i> leave the +room!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss," came the nicely decorous reply. +Faultless servant as he was, it must still be set to +the credit of Michael that he closed a sliding door of +solid rosewood, which worked on easy grooves between +the double <i>portière</i> of the apartment, just after +crossing its threshold. His act was wholly unneces<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>sary, +considering the nature of the command his +young mistress had given; and when we note the +obstructing force of the door itself, it implies a sublime +abstinence from the fascinations of eavesdropping.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't cry so!" exclaimed Sophia, with great +sympathy and a strong suspicion of active emotion as +well. "I suppose something dreadful has happened +to you, dear old Claire. What is it? Just tell me, +and I'll see what I can do. You're not dressed as if +you were very well off. Is it poverty? Oh, pshaw! +I'll soon fix things all right if you want help that +way. I'll"—</p> + +<p>Here Sophia abruptly paused, and withdrew her +hands. She stood facing Claire, who still struggled +to master the sobs that shook her. Sophia seemed +sternly troubled: her full cheeks had reddened; this +was her one invariable way of showing agitation; +she never turned pale, like other people. "Claire!" +she broke forth, in solemn undertone. "I do hope it +isn't <i>one thing</i>! I do hope you haven't been ... +been <i>going wrong</i>! You know what I mean. I +wouldn't mind anything but that, and that I couldn't +forgive—or even excuse!"</p> + +<p>Claire sprang to her feet as the last word passed +Sophia's lips. Wrath had calmed her, and with a +wondrous speed. The tears were still glittering on +her cheeks, however, as she spoke, with eyes that +flashed and a lip that curled.</p> + +<p>"Sophia!" she said; "how dare you insult me like +this!"</p> + +<p>The distressed frown on Sophia's face instantly +vanished. "Oh, Claire," she cried, "I'm so glad it +<i>isn't</i> true! Don't be angry. You see, my dear, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +hadn't met for so long, and you looked as if—as if +something horrible had happened, and it's such a +funny, topsy-turvy world. So many queer things do +happen in it. <i>Don't</i> be angry, please!"</p> + +<p>"I am angry," said Claire. In her shabby dress +she gave, notwithstanding, a noble portrayal of disdain. +She had taken several steps toward the door, +though Sophia, having caught her arm, endeavored, +with a mien contrite and even supplicating, to detain +her within the chamber. "Why should I not be +angry?" Claire went on, her voice dry and bitter. +"Allow that I do look as if I were miserable. Is +misery another name for sin?... No, Sophia, let +me go, please.... Perhaps you may learn, some +day, as I've learned already, that the unhappy people +in life are not always the bad ones!"</p> + +<p>But Sophia, whose impulsive and explosive nature +had not altered very markedly since we last heard of +her childish escapades, now replied by a most excited +outburst of appeal. Her exuberant figure, which no +dexterity of dressmaking and no splendor of combined +satins and velvets could turn less unwieldy +and cumbrous, bowed and swayed till you almost +heard the seams of its rich garb crack their stitches +under the fleshly disturbance to which she subjected +them.</p> + +<p>"Claire! Claire!" she ejaculated; "I <i>have</i> insulted +you.... But you'll forgive me—I know you will. +I've never forgotten you. You stood up against +that horrid Ada Gerrard and her set so finely, years +ago! You were good then—yes, just as good as gold,—and +I'm sure you're just exactly as good still. +Now, Claire, don't look that way! I was talking to +Ma about you only a few days since. Pa's dead,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +you know—but I suppose you don't. Yes, I said to +Ma that I'd give anything to find out what had become +of you. Ma and I are dreadfully rich—I +mean well off. Poor Pa left ever so much money. +He's been dead nearly three years. There's nobody +but Ma and I left. I hate Hoboken. I made her +buy this house. Now, Claire, just stop! You shan't +go. You're going to tell me all about your troubles. +Yes, you shall! I'll be your friend. There, let me +kiss you.... Do, Claire!... You know I was always +awfully fond of you. I never knew any girl I +was half so fond of as you. I've asked your pardon. +You were always a lady. I remember about that +dreadful dress you came to school in, first. But that +didn't matter. You were a lady born, and you +showed it afterward. Every girl thought so, too. +Even those hateful snobs had to own it—I'm sure +they did. I see some of them quite often. Ada +Gerrard's a great swell, as they say, now. She gives +me a little nod when I meet her, driving in the +Park or on the Avenue. But you're twice the lady +she is. Yes, Claire, I mean it. Kiss me, now, won't +you? Kiss me, and be friends!"</p> + +<p>Claire had succumbed several minutes before this +eager tirade was ended. Her anger had fled. She +let Sophia put both arms about her. She returned +Sophia's kiss. Then she leaned her head upon the +shoulder of her companion, and gave way to another +access of tears. But they were quiet tears, this time. +The hysteric impulse had wholly passed. A little +later she told Sophia, with as much placid directness +as she could manage, every important detail of the +hard, dreary life lived since they two had last met.</p> + +<p>While she thus spoke, the extraordinary charm of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +her manner and the distinct loveliness of her delicate +yet notable beauty more than once thrilled her listener. +Sophia's old worship, if the term be not too +strong, returned in full force. She had sworn by +Claire, as the phrase goes, in earlier days. She was +prepared to swear by her still. The story of Mr. +Twining's death and the disloyal deportment of his +wife roused her vehement contempt. By the time +that Claire had finished her gloomy recital, the two +girls were seated close together. Sophia's large fat +hand, in its fashionable glove, was fervidly clasping +Claire's.</p> + +<p>"You did perfectly right!" Sophia at length exclaimed, +after the pause had come, and while her +visitor sat with drooped head and pale, compressed +lips. "Your poor father! To bury him that way! +It was frightful! And you told her you'd do anything +on earth for her if she only wouldn't! And +I know how you loved your father. Don't you recollect +telling me about him, one recess, when I gave +you half my sardine-sandwich? You said he was a +gentleman by birth, and had come of a fine family in +England. That's where you get your swell looks +from, Claire. Yes, you <i>are</i> a swell, even though +you've got on a frock that didn't cost, altogether, +as much as one yard of mine.... Why, just look +at me! I'm awkward and clumsy, exactly as I was +at Mrs. Arcularius's. I'll never be any different. +And yet I spend loads and loads of money on my +things. I do, really! But gracious goodness! there +<i>you</i> sit, with your sweet, pure face, shaped like a +heart, and your hair that's got the same bright +sparkle through its brown that it used to have, and +those long eyelashes over those black-blue kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +eyes, and that cunning little dimple in your chin, and +those long, slender, ladylike hands"—</p> + +<p>Here Claire stopped her, with a sad smile and a +shake of the head. She spread open one hand, holding +it up for scrutiny at the same moment.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk of my hands, Sophia," she said. +"They've been doing hard work since you saw +them last."</p> + +<p>Sophia gazed down at the inner portion of her +friend's hand, for a moment, and then suddenly exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Work! Why, they're not hard a bit. Oh, Claire, +you've worn gloves all the time you worked. Come, +own up, now!"</p> + +<p>Claire smiled in a furtive way. But she spoke +with simple frankness the next instant. "Well, yes, +Sophia," she said, "I <i>have</i> worn gloves as often as +I could. I wanted to save my hands. Some of the +girls at Mrs. Arcularius's used to call them pretty. +I wanted them to stay pretty—if I could manage +it. I don't mind telling you so. But I thought they +must have lost every trace of nice looks by this +time."</p> + +<p>Sophia bent over the hand that she still held, and +whose palm was turned upward to the light, so that +all its inner details, from wrist to finger-tips, could +not possibly escape notice.</p> + +<p>"Why, there's a pink flush all round the edge, inside +there," commented Sophia. "It's funny, Claire. +I never saw it in any other girl's hand before. It's +just like the rose-color at the edge of a shell. Upon +my word it is! I don't care a straw what work +you've been doing; you've got hands like—well, I +was going to say like a queen. But I don't doubt a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +good many queens have awful hands, so I'll say like +a lady.... There, kiss me again.... Here's Ma. +Don't mind Ma. She'll be nice. She always <i>is</i> nice +when I want her to be. Isn't that so, Ma?"</p> + +<p>A lady had just entered the small, brilliantly-appointed +room in which Claire and Sophia had thus +far held their rather noteworthy converse. The lady +was Mrs. Bergemann.</p> + +<p>She was exceedingly stout; both in visage and +form she looked like a matured and intensified Sophia. +As far as features went, she wonderfully resembled +her daughter. Every undue trait of plumpness +in Sophia's countenance was reproduced by Mrs. +Bergemann with a sort of facial compound interest. +Flesh seemed to have besieged her, like a comic malady. +Her good-natured eyes sparkled between two +creases of it; her loose, full chin revealed more than +one fold of it. She was by no means attired like a +widow of recent bereavement. She wore a bonnet +in which there was no violence of coloring; it was +purple and brown, but at the same time so severely +<i>à la mode</i> that if any symbol lurked behind its decorative +fantasies this must have signified the soothing +influences of resignation and consolation.</p> + +<p>She had heard her daughter's last words. She was +devoted to Sophia; it was an allegiance wed with +pride. She had been a poor German girl, years ago, +and had drifted, through the chance of matrimony, +into her present opulent place. She was by nature +meek and conciliatory; all Sophia's temper and temerity +had come from her father, who had combined +large superficial good-humor with a notorious intolerance +of the least fancied wrong. Sophia's last words +had embarrassed her. She had no idea who Claire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +was, but the evident cordiality of her daughter's deportment +produced the effect of a gentle mandate.</p> + +<p>"I shan't go driving, Ma!" Sophia exclaimed, after +she had made Claire and her mother acquainted. +"I'll stay at home and talk of old times with Claire +Twining. Poor Claire's in trouble, Ma. I won't tell +you about it yet. You go off in the carriage—that +is, if it ever comes; but I'm afraid we'll have to discharge +Thomas; he's always behind time."</p> + +<p>"The carriage is here, Sophia," said Mrs. Bergemann. +She spoke without the slightest German accent; +this had perished long ago. She was looking +at Claire with the manner of one who has been +deeply attracted. "I've often heard you mention +Miss Twining," she went on. "You was talking of +her only the other day, wasn't you, Sophia?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sophia, rising. She went to her +mother, and spoke a few low words, which Claire +quite failed to hear. The prompt result of this intercourse +was Mrs. Bergemann's exit from the room. +Sophia followed her to the door, with one hand laid +upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"All right, Ma," she said, pausing a moment on +the threshold. "You go and take your drive. I'll +stay and chat with Claire."</p> + +<p>A little while afterward Sophia had reseated herself +at Claire's side. "Ma likes you," she at once +began, in her voluble, oddly frank way. "She told +me she did. She's very funny about liking and disliking +people. She takes fancies—or she doesn't. +Ma isn't a swell. She's what they call vulgar. But +she's ever so nice. She never had much education, +but she has a large, warm heart. I wouldn't have +her one bit different from what she is. I wouldn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +give Ma for Queen Victoria. She and I are the +dearest friends in the world. I know you'll like her, +Claire. She likes you, as I said. And Claire, look +here, now; I want to say something. It may surprise +you. I hope, though, that it will please you, +too. You're going to stay here in this house. You're +going to live here as my friend. Yes, you are. You +were always as smart as a steel trap. We'll read +together, every morning. Yes, we will. You know +what a perfect fool I used to be at Mrs. Arcularius's. +Well, I'm the same fool still. But <i>you</i> know a lot; +you always did. And you shall help me to be less of +an ignoramus than I am. We've got a library upstairs. +Oh, there are a crowd of books. I got Mr. +Thurston to buy them for me. He's a gentleman +friend of ours, and he knows a tremendous amount. +He just filled all the book-shelves for us. I'm sure +he bought the right kind of books, too; he knows +pretty much everything in that line. Now, Claire, +if you'll do as I say, we'll get along splendidly together. +And as for ... well, as for salary, you +know, I'll"—</p> + +<p>Here Claire rose, placing a hand on Sophia's arm. +"No," she said, "I couldn't accept such a place as +that. I'm not able to fill it. I have been living a +life of hard work for three or four years past. I've +scarcely looked into a book, Sophia, in all that time. +I came here to ask you if you would get me work. +I can sew very well; I was always clever with my +needle. If you will give me something of that sort +to do, I will gladly and thankfully remain. But +otherwise, I can't."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sophia</span> consented to this plan, but only as a strategical +manœuvre. She had determined that Claire +should fill precisely the position just proffered her, +and no other. By seeming to yield she at length +won her cause. She was quite in earnest about her +wish for mental improvement. Nor was Claire, in +spite of latter years passed under the gloom of toil, +half as much at sea among the many smart-bound +volumes of the library as she herself had expected. +She had been, in her day, a diligent student; she +found that she remembered this or that famous +writer, as she examined book after book. Now and +then a celebrated name recurred to her with sharp +appeal of recollection; again she had a vivid sense +of forgetfulness, and of ignorance as well. But she +was of the kind who read swiftly and retain with +force. It was not long before she had discovered +certain volumes which guided and at the same time +instructed her in just that literary direction needful +for the task required by her would-be pupil. A great +deal of her old intellectual method and industry soon +came back to her. She turned the pages of the many +good books stored on the shelves near by with a hand +more composed and deliberate; she began to see just +what Sophia wanted her to do, and realize her full +capability of doing it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meanwhile a week or more had passed. She was +now clad in appropriate mourning. She was one of +the family. Sophia, devoted and affectionate, was +constantly at her side.</p> + +<p>Now and then Claire said, with a nervous laugh, +"I'm afraid I have never learned enough to be of +the least use to you, Sophia, in the way you've proposed."</p> + +<p>But Sophia would smile, and answer, "Oh, I'm +not afraid, Claire dear. You'll get it all back again, +pretty soon."</p> + +<p>She rapidly got it all back again, and a great deal +more besides. The morning readings began. Sophia +soon expressed herself as in raptures; but it was the +teacher that charmed her far more than the teaching.</p> + +<p>Claire's life was now one of easy luxury. She +walked or drove with Sophia every afternoon; she +ate delicate food; she slept in a spacious bed-chamber +that possessed every detail of comfort; all things +moved along on oiled wheels; the machinery of her +life had lost all its clogging rust. Greenpoint began +to fade from her thoughts; it grew a dim, detested +memory. Scarcely a day passed, however, without +she definitely recalled some incident connected with +her father. Now that this softness and daintiness +surrounded her, the refinement which no adverse +years could alienate from his personality became for +her a more distinct conception. She realized how +complete a gentleman he had been. At the same +time, under these altered conditions, her own taste +for the superfine niceties of cultivation increased with +much speed. She was like a plant that has been +borne back to its native soil and clime from some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +land where it has hitherto lived but as a dwarfed +and partial growth; the foliage was expanding, the +fibre was strengthening, the flowers were taking a +warmer tint and a richer scent.</p> + +<p>She soon perceived that the Bergemanns moved in +a set of almost uniformly vulgar people. Many of +them seemed very wealthy. Nearly all of them +dressed handsomely and drove about in their private +carriages. Not a few of them lived in fine adjacent +houses on "the Avenue," as it is called. Sophia +had a number of intimate friends, maidens of her +own age, who constantly visited her. She had admirers, +too, of the other sex, who would sometimes call +for her of an evening, and take her to a party, unattended +by any chaperone. She went, during the +winter months, to numerous parties. She belonged +to an organization which she always spoke of as +"our sociable," and which met at the various homes +of its female members. One evening a "sociable" +was given at the Bergemann mansion. The music +and dancing were kept up till two o'clock in the +morning, and the house was effectively adorned with +flowers. Claire, because of her mourning, abstained +from this and all similar gayety. But as a matter +of course she met many of Sophia's and Mrs. Bergemann's +friends. Only one of all the throng had +power pleasurably to interest her.</p> + +<p>This exceptional person was Mr. Beverley Thurston, +whom we have already heard Sophia mention as +having selected the volumes of her mother's library. +He was a man about forty years old, who had never +married. His figure was tall and shapely; his face, +usually grave, was capable of much geniality. He +had traveled, read, thought, and observed. He stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +somewhat high in the legal profession, and came, on +the maternal side, of a somewhat noted family. He +managed the large estate of Mrs. Bergemann and her +daughter, and solely on this account was a frequent +guest at their house. He had one widowed sister, +of very exclusive views, who possessed large means, +and who placed great value upon her position as a +fashionable leader. For several years this lady (still +called by courtesy Mrs. Winthrop Van Horn) had +haughtily refused her brother's urgent request that +she should leave a card upon Mrs. Bergemann, +though several thousand a year resulted from his connection +with the deceased brewer's property. But +Mr. Thurston, while he succumbed to the arrogant +obstinacy of his sister, had employed great tact in +blinding his profitable patrons to the awkward truth +of her disdain. He had been bored for three years +past by his politic intimacy with Sophia and her +mother, and he had always felt a lurking dread lest +they should make a sudden appeal for his aid in the +way of social advancement. But here he had committed +a marked error. Mrs. Bergemann and Sophia +understood nothing whatever about social advancement. +They were both magnificently contented with +their present places in society. The inner patrician +mysteries were quite unknown to them. Their ignorance, +in this respect, was a serene bliss. They believed +themselves valuably important. They saw no +new heights to gain.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston had long secretly smiled at their self-confidence. +He was a clever observer; he had seen +the world; the Bergemanns were sometimes a delicious +joke to him, when he felt in an appreciative +mood. At other times the bouncing, coltish manners<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +of Sophia, and the educational deficiencies of her +mother, grated harshly upon his nerves. But when +Claire entered the household he at once experienced +a new sensation. He watched her in quiet wonder. +No points of her beauty escaped his trained eye. +What he had learned of her past career made her +seem to him remarkable, even phenomenal. By degrees +an intimacy was established between them. +At first it concerned literary subjects; Claire consulted +him about the books appropriate for her readings +with Sophia. But they soon talked of other +things, and occasionally these chats took the form of +very private <i>tête-à-têtes</i>. Claire was perfectly loyal +to her new friends, but she could not crush a spirit of +inquiry, of investigation and of valuation, so far as +concerned the people with whom they associated.</p> + +<p>The gentlemen distressed her more than the ladies. +The latter were often so full of grace and prettiness +that their loud talk, shrill laughter, and faulty grammar +could not wholly rid them of charm. But the +gentlemen had no grace, and slight good looks as an +offset to their haphazard manners. Some of them +appeared to be quite uneducated; others would blend +ignorance with conceit; still others were ungallant +and ungracious, and not seldom pompously boastful +of their wealth.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston was at first cautious in his answers +to Claire's rather searching questions. But by degrees +he threw aside restraint; he grew to understand +just why he was thus interrogated.</p> + +<p>He had a slow yet significant mode of talk that +was nearly sure of entertaining any listener. Shallow +people had called him a cynic, but not a few +clever ones had strongly denied this charge. Claire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +began to look upon him as one who was forever opening +doors for her, and showing her glimpses of discovery +that either surprised or impressed the gazer.</p> + +<p>On the evening of Sophia's "sociable" Claire remained +in a large chamber that was approached from +the second hall of the house, and appointed with that +admirable taste which clearly indicated that the Bergemanns +had once confided devoutly in their upholsterer, +just as they now did in their milliner. She +was quite alone; she held a book open in her lap, +but was not reading it; her black dress became her +charmingly; it seemed to win a richer shade from +the chestnut-and-gold of her tresses, and to increase +the delightful fragility of her oval, soft-tinted face. +The music below stairs kept her thoughts away from +her book; it pealed up to her with a dulcet, provocative +melody; it made her feel that she would love to +go down and join the merry-makers. But this was +only a kind of abstract emotion; there was nobody +in the bright-lit, flower-decked drawing-rooms whom +she would have cared to meet, with the possible exception +of Mr. Thurston, although what she then +considered his advanced age made him seem more +suitable as a companion of less jubilant hours.</p> + +<p>But it chanced that a knock presently sounded at +the half-closed door, and that Mr. Thurston soon +afterward presented himself. He sat down beside +her. His evening dress had a felicity of cut and fit +that gave his naturally stately figure an added distinction, +even to the inexperienced eye of Claire. +She thought how the white tie at his throat became +him—how different he was, in spite of the gray at +his temples and the crow's-feet under his hazel eyes, +from the younger men clad in similar vesture, whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +she had seen pass through the upper hall a little +earlier in the evening.</p> + +<p>By this time Mr. Thurston's acquaintance with +Claire had grown to be a facile and agreeable intimacy. +He had learned from Sophia that she was +here alone, and he had sought her with the freedom +of one wont to make himself wholly at home in the +mansions of his clients. At the same time, as it happened, +he came with a vastly fatigued feeling toward +the guests below.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to leave," he began, with his nice, +social smile, "until I had seen you for a few moments."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Claire, pleased at his coming, and with +a little sweet-toned laugh, "I'm afraid you came up +here only because it was too early to go just yet."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston put his head on one side, and his +eyes twinkled quizzically. "Oh, come, now," he +said; "are you going to talk badly about the party? +You haven't seen it. I'm sure you'd like to be +down there, dancing and romping among all those +young people."</p> + +<p>Claire shook her head; she looked rather serious +as she did so. "No," she answered; "I shouldn't +like it at all. I think you know why. There is nobody +there—that is, among the guests—whom I +like. Some of them I've never met. But I don't +doubt that they are all much the same. Now, please +don't look as if you didn't understand me. I am +sure that you do, perfectly. Remember, we have +talked on these subjects before."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston stroked his thick gray mustache, +whose ends slightly curved against cheeks which +somehow looked as if they still wore the sun-tan of +travel in remote sultry climates.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course we have, Miss Claire," he gently exclaimed. +"It's wonderful what an inquiring turn +you possess. We've settled that there's no treachery +to Sophia and her mamma in all these dreadful +things that you and I say; haven't we?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly we have settled it," returned Claire, +still looking serious. "But I'm not by any means +sure that we do say dreadful things. I ask the truth, +and you tell it me." Here Claire's expression suddenly +changed. She looked at her companion archly, +and each cheek dimpled. "At least I hope you do."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston shifted in his seat, and crossed his +legs. "I do. I speak by the card when you ask +questions. I'm compelled to. There's an enormous +earnestness about you. You make me think of a person +with a purpose. I'm sure you have a purpose. +I haven't yet fathomed it, but I'm sure it's there."</p> + +<p>"I have a purpose," Claire said.</p> + +<p>"Very well. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"To know about the world I live in. I mean New +York, of course. That is my world, now. I think it +a very nice world. At least, I've never seen a better +one."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I understand. And you want to explore +it. You want to examine it in detail. You want +to know its bad, worse, worst, and its good, better, +best."</p> + +<p>"I want to know its good, better, best."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston laughed again. "Do you know," he +said, "that the more I see of you the more you +amuse me? No; I won't say 'amuse'; I'll say 'interest.' +You are such a tremendous type. You are +so characteristic. I called you a person with a purpose, +just now, and I pretended not to know what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +your purpose was. That was an intentional hypocrisy +on my part. I comprehend your purpose thoroughly. +You wish to find out what New York society +means. You're making a mental social dictionary. +And you desire that I shall supply you with definitions +to the best extent of my ability. Isn't that +true? Pray confess, now."</p> + +<p>Claire looked at him steadily for several seconds. +There was a mild yet bright spark in her dusky-blue +eyes, and a faint smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>"You say less than you mean," she answered. "I +think that I guess what is behind your words. I +think that you suspect me of wishing to make my +dictionary from motives of future personal preference. +That is, you believe that I am a girl with +strong ambitions—that I want to rise, thrive, succeed.... +Well, you're not wrong. I do want to +rise, thrive, succeed. It's in me, as the saying goes. +I can't help the impulse."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston lifted both hands and slightly waved +them. "The impulse is enough—with you," he +said.</p> + +<p>Claire started. "What do you mean?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thurston looked at the floor, for a moment, +then raised his eyes. They dwelt on Claire's very +forcefully.</p> + +<p>"I mean," he said, "that you are too beautiful +and charming not to gain your object."</p> + +<p>Claire laughed, lightly and yet a little consciously. +"That is very kind of you. If a young man had +only said it! How delighted I would have been!"</p> + +<p>"Then you think me so very old?" Thurston replied, +watching her face with intentness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," Claire at once said, growing serious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +again. "Not that, of course. But still ... well, +it would be idle for me to declare that I think you +young."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am younger than you think," he said, +with low, peculiar emphasis on each word. "Mind, +I only say 'perhaps.' ... But do not let us talk of +that. As I told you, I am sure you will gain your +object. You will succeed. That is, you will find a +higher level than these poor Bergemanns. There is +a restless fire in your soul that will goad you on. +And in the end you must win."</p> + +<p>"Tell me by what means, please."</p> + +<p>"Marriage will be your first stepping-stone."</p> + +<p>"To what?"</p> + +<p>"Success."</p> + +<p>"Success in what form?"</p> + +<p>"Social success. I assume that your aim lies +there. You want men and women of a certain grade +to pay you courtesy and deference."</p> + +<p>Claire seemed to muse, for a brief time. "Yes, I +do," she then said. "You are quite right. But you +speak of my gaining all this by marriage. How +shall I meet the man who is to lend me such important +help?"</p> + +<p>There was a daring candor about this question—a +simplicity of <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'wordliness'">worldliness</ins>, in fact—which startled +her hearer. But his usual gravity betrayed no signs +of dismay.</p> + +<p>"You will meet him," he said, tranquilly. "Oh, +yes; you will meet him. It is your fate. He will +drop to you from the skies. But after you have +secured through matrimony this desired end, will you +be contented with what you have secured? So much +depends on that—the success of your success, as one +might say."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire raised her brows in demure perplexity. "I +don't understand," she murmured.</p> + +<p>Thurston slowly shook his head. A smile was on +his lips, but it held sadness, and a hint of pity as +well. "If I read you rightly," he answered, "you +<i>will</i> understand, some day."</p> + +<p>Claire made an impatient gesture. "Please don't +talk in riddles," she exclaimed. "Do you mean that +the prize will turn out worthless after I have got it? +I have not found this true in my reading. I have +not found many kings or queens who wearied so +much of their thrones that they were ready to resign +them." An eagerness now possessed her manner; +she leaned slightly forward; her nostril dilated a +little; her color deepened. "Power and place are +what I want, and never to have them will be never +to have contentment. This sounds cold to you. I'm +sure of it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, softly; "it sounds very cold. But +I don't know that such a coldness as that will not +prove for you a tough safeguard. It is very protective +to a woman—if it lasts."</p> + +<p>"Mine will last, such as it is."</p> + +<p>"I neither affirm nor deny that it will. Time will +show."</p> + +<p>She broke into a laugh, full of sportive irony. +"You mean that I may fall in love with somebody. +But I have little fear of that." ... Her face suddenly +grew very sober, and her voice trembled some +what as she next said: "I loved my poor dead +father dearly. I shall never love any one else half so +much again. No mere words could tell you of my +firm certainty on this subject. But the certainty remains. +I don't mean that I wish to live a loveless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +life. Far from that! I wish to have friends in +abundance. And I shall not be disloyal to them in +any case. But they must be friends of influence, +standing, importance. They must not be like the +Bergemanns, though I mean never to falter for an +instant in my grateful fidelity toward Sophia and her +mother."</p> + +<p>"Your frankness," said Thurston, with one of his +calm, wise smiles, "has a positive prodigality. What +another woman would hide with the most jealous +care, you openly speak. It is easy to see that your +experience is yet limited."</p> + +<p>"I should not talk to every one as I talk to you," +Claire quickly answered.</p> + +<p>He took one of her hands in his for a few moments. +He held it, and she let him do so. He looked into +her face with great fixity.</p> + +<p>"My poor child," he said, "you have a hard road +before you. But I know you mean to tread it with +determined feet. In many women there would be +something repellent about such resolves as those you +have just confessed. In you they are charming. I +suppose that is easily explained: you are charming +yourself. I shall watch your career with the +deepest concern. You will not mind if I watch it? +Am I wrong, here?"</p> + +<p>Claire, still letting him keep her hand, swiftly replied: +"Oh, no; of course I shall not mind. You +belong to that other world. You are one of the people +whom I wish to have for my adherents—my +clients, as it were. I hope we shall always be friends. +I like you very greatly. You remember we have +talked it all over before now. You have told me of +the people whom I wish to meet. You have even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +told me some of their names. I have forgotten nothing +of what you have said. I count you as my first +conquest. If others follow—as I firmly believe that +they will—we will have talks together, and laugh +over the old times when I was obscure and a nobody. +Yes, if I ever get to be that great lady you prophesy +that I shall become, we will discuss, in little intimate +chats, every detail of my progress toward grandeur +and distinction. It will be very pleasant, will it not? +But now I must say something that I have never +said before. I must ask you to help me. Why +should you not do so? You have means of doing so. +And you like me; we are excellent friends. If you +give me some real aid I will never forget it. I'm +not ungrateful. I'm cold, if you choose, in a certain +way, but I always recollect a service. Don't think I +am begging any favor of you. I'm rather requiring +one. Yes, requiring. You've told me that you +think I have ... well that I'm not ugly. You +know just what I want to do. And you've said +that I have ... well that I'm very far from a +fool.... Now let us strike a compact. Shall we? +Put me into some path where I may reach your fine, +grand world, in which I should like to shine and be +a power!"</p> + +<p>The audacity of this whole speech was exquisite. +In plain substance it belonged to what we call by +harsh names. It was the sort of thing that in ordinary +dealing we denounce and even contemn, as the +effort of unsolicited pretension to thrust itself against +barred gates with immodest vigor. But in Claire's +case there was no question of ordinary dealing. Her +impetuosity was so lovely, her youth, her beauty, and +her freshness were so entirely delightful, that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +unreserved freedom with which she spoke of aims in +their essence purely selfish acquired a charming picturesqueness. +Her ambition, thus openly expressed, +lost every trace of gross worldly meaning. She became, +to the eyes of him who watched her, a fascinating +zealot. She seemed to demand what was +merely her just due. It was indeed as though she +had been robbed by some hostile fate of a royalty +that she now declared her stolen right, and proudly +reclaimed. All this time she had let Thurston retain +her hand. Once or twice her slight fingers +pressed against his palm, with unconscious warmth. +Her face, meanwhile, lifted above the darkness of +her mourning robes, was sweet and brilliant as some +early dew-washed flower.</p> + +<p>Thurston fixed his gaze upon her eyes, whose +dark-blue depths were full of a rich, liquid light. +His clasp tightened about her hand.</p> + +<p>"I will give you my help," he said, with a new +note in his voice that was a sort of husky throb; "I +will give it to you gladly. But I am afraid you will +not accept it when it is offered."</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned Claire, still not guessing the +truth, "I will accept it most willingly, since it comes +from one whom I know to be my friend and well-wisher."</p> + +<p>"That is not what I mean," Thurston objected. +He rose as he spoke, still holding Claire's hand.</p> + +<p>She looked at him wonderingly. She perceived +his changed manner. "Explain," she said. "How +do you mean that you will help me?"</p> + +<p>"I will help you as my wife," Thurston replied. +He looked as grave, as gray, as bronzed, as always; +but his voice was in a hoarse flurry. "I will help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +you, as my wife, to be something more than a great +lady. You shall be that, if you choose, but you shall +be more. Your ambition is made of finer stuff than +you know. I will help you to see just how fine it is."</p> + +<p>The instant that he began to speak thus Claire had +drawn away her hand. She did not rise. But she +now looked up at him, and shook her head with +negative vehemence.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she said. The words rang sharply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Not</span> long afterward Claire found herself alone. +Thurston had gone. She felt her cheeks burn as she +sat and stared at the floor. His declaration had +strangely shocked her, at first, for the entire man, +as it were, had undergone a transformation so abrupt +and radical as to wear a hue of actual miracle; and +it is only across a comfortable lapse of centuries that +the human mind can regard such manifestations with +anything like complacency. Balaam could not have +been more bewildered and disturbed when the Ass +spoke. Claire had never thought of Thurston as capable +of a live sentiment toward any woman. She +had taken it for granted that all this part of his +nature was in dignified decay, like his hair and complexion. +She had drifted unconsciously, somehow, +into the conviction that his passions, if he had ever +felt them, were now like the lavendered relics that +we shut away in chests. She had warmed to him +with a truly filial ardor, and this sudden ruin of their +mutual relations now gave her acute stings of regret.</p> + +<p>But Thurston, who had managed to depart from +her with a good deal of nice repose of visage and demeanor, +also contrived, with that skill born of wide +social experience, to make their next meeting by far +less awkward than Claire herself had nervously anticipated. +Sophia and Mrs. Bergemann were both<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +present on this occasion. He looked at Claire in so +ordinary a way, and spoke with so much apparent +ease and serenity, that her self-possession was fed by +his, and her dread swiftly became thankful relief.</p> + +<p>Through the days that followed, Claire and Thurston +gradually yet firmly resumed their past agreeable +converse. Of course matters could never be the same +between them. He stood toward her, inevitably, in +a new light; a cloak had fallen from him; she was +not quite sure whether she liked him less or more, +now that she knew him as the man who had asked +her to be his wife; but in reality she did like him +much more, and this was because, being a woman, +she constantly divined his admiration beneath the +intimate yet always guarded courtesy of his manner.</p> + +<p>Their former chats were resumed, steadily interrogative +on her side, complaisantly responsive on his. +As Winter softened into Spring, the dissipations of +Sophia decreased. She had more evenings at home, +and not a few of her devotees would pay her visits +during the hours of nine and eleven. It frequently +happened that Thurston would enter the drawing-room +at such times. He always talked with Claire, +who would often emerge from back recesses on his +arrival. Both Sophia and her mother would occasionally +deliver themselves of comments upon the +evident preference of their legal adviser. But Mrs. +Bergemann was much more outspoken than her +daughter. Sophia could not bring herself to believe +that there was "anything in it," as her own phrase +repeatedly went. She thought Beverly Thurston +"just as nice as he could be"; but the slender and +blooming beauty of Claire made to her young eyes +anomalous contrast with Thurston's <i>fade</i> though attractive +appearance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good gracious, Ma!" she once asseverated, in +private debate, "Claire wouldn't ever think of marrying +a man old enough to be her father!"</p> + +<p>"She might do worse, now, Sophia," protested +Mrs. Bergemann, with the coolly formulated style of +talk and thought which marks so many matrons when +they discuss matrimonial subjects. "You just leave +Claire alone. Wait and see what she'll do. He's +taken a shine to her. Recollect, she ain't got a cent, +poor dear girl. He'd make a splendid husband. I +guess he'll propose soon. I hope he will, too. He's +a real ellergant gentleman. Just think how we trust +him with rents and mortgages and things. I declare +I don't scarcely know half what he does with my own +property."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, Ma," responded Sophia, with vast contempt. +"Claire wouldn't look at him that way. +She's young, like me. She may be as poor as a +church-mouse, but she isn't going to sell herself like +that. Now do be quiet."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bergemann became obediently quiet. But +she continued to have her private opinions. Meanwhile +Claire and Thurston held their brief or long +interviews, as chance favored.</p> + +<p>Matters had rearranged themselves between them +on the old basis. There was a change, and yet not +a change. Claire spoke with all her former freedom. +Thurston listened and replied with all his former +concession.</p> + +<p>A certain admirer of Sophia's had of late deserted +her, and sought the attention of Claire whenever occasion +permitted. His name was Brady. His father +was the owner of a large and popular emporium on +Sixth Avenue. He was an only child, and supplied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +with a liberal allowance. The mercantile success of +his father had been comparatively recent. He was +now three-and-twenty; his early education had been +one long, persistent neglect. After the money had +begun to flow into the paternal coffers, Brady had +gone abroad, and seen vice and little else in the various +European capitals, and finally, coming home +again, had slipped, by a most natural and facile process, +into just that ill-bred, wealthy, low-toned set of +which poor, rich Sophia Bergemann was one of the +leading spirits.</p> + +<p>Claire could hardly endure the attentions of Brady. +She was civil to him because of her two hostesses, +whose perception in all matters of social degree +seemed hopelessly obtuse. But Brady had fallen in +love with her, severely and effusively, and she soon +had good cause to know it. He was very tall and +slim of figure, with a face whose utter smoothness +would have been the despair of a mercenary barber. +His large ears, jutting from a bullet-shaped head, +gave to this head, at a little distance away, the look +of some odd, unclassic amphora. He spoke very indifferent +English, and always kept the last caprice +of slang in glib readiness, as a tradesman will keep +his newest goods where he can soonest reach them. +He was excessively purse-proud, and liked to tell you +the price of the big sunken diamond worn on his +little finger; of the suite of rooms at his expensive +hotel; of the special deep-olive cigars, dotted with a +lighter yellow speck, which lined his ivory cigar-case. +He possessed, in truth, all the cardinal vulgarities. +He was lavishly conceited; he paid no deference to +age; he had not a vestige of gallantry in his deportment +toward women; his self-possession was so fran<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>gible +that a blow could shatter it, but his coarse +wrath would at once rise from the ruin, like the foul +aroma from a broken phial. At such times he would +scowl and be insolent, quite regardless of sex, years, +or general superiority on the part of the offender. +Indeed, he admitted no superiority. The shadow of +the Sixth Avenue emporium hedged him, in his own +shallow esteem, with impregnable divinity.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Thurston, speaking of him one +day to Claire, "that he is truly an abominable creature. +The ancients used to believe that monsters +were created by the union of two commingling elements, +such as earth and heaven. But to-day in +America we have a horrid progeny growing up about +us, resultant from two forces, each dangerous enough +by itself, but both deadly when they meet. I mean +Wealth and Ignorance. This Brady is their child. +If he were merely a poor man, his illiteracy would be +endurable. If he were merely illiterate, we could +stand his opulence. But he is both very uneducated +and very rich. The combination is a horror. He +is our modern way of being devoured by dragons, +minotaurs, and giants."</p> + +<p>Claire laughed, and presently shook her head in +gentle argumentative protest. "I think there is a +flaw in your theory," she said, "and I'll tell you +why. There are the Bergemanns. Sophia, I admit, +is not precisely uncultivated—that is, she has had +good chances of instruction and not profited by them. +This may mean little, yet it is surely better than having +had no chances at all. But Mrs. Bergemann—she +is both rich and ignorant, poor dear woman. +And yet she is very far from a monster. She is a +sweet, comfortable, motherly person. She would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +harm a fly." Claire put her head a little sideways, +and looked with winsome challenge at her companion; +she assumed pretty airs and graces with him, +nowadays, which she had never dealt in before the +occurrence of a certain momentous episode. "What +have you to say," she went on, "in answer to my +rather shrewd objection? Doesn't it send you quite +into a corner."</p> + +<p>"Well, I confess that it rather floors me to have +Mrs. Bergemann cited against me," he said, smiling. +"I am afraid that I must yield. I am afraid that +my theory is torn in tatters. I must congratulate +you on your destructive instincts."</p> + +<p>He spoke these words with his usual robust sort of +languor, in which there was never a single trace of +affectation or frivolity. At the same time a secret +feeling of wonder possessed him; he was thinking +how swiftly active had been the change in Claire +since their first acquaintance. She had told him +every particular of her past life, so far as concerned +its opportunities of instruction. He marveled now, +as he had repeatedly done on recent occasions, at her +remarkable power to grasp new phrases, new forms +of thought, new methods of inquiry. She had never, +from the first, shown a gleam of coarseness. But +she had often been timid of speech and falteringly +insecure of expression. Yet latterly all this was altered. +Thurston had a sense of how phenomenal +was the improvement. It was plain that the books +in the library, and Claire's power of fleet reading, had +wrought this benefit upon a mind which past study +and training had already rendered flexibly receptive. +And yet all of the explanation did not lie here; at +least half of it lurked in the fact that she had quitted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +drudgery, need, and depression. Her mental shutters +had been flung open, and the sunshine let to stream +in through the casements. A few days later she had +suspected the existence of Brady's passion. He +made no attempt, on his own side, to conceal his +preference for her society. Claire saw love in his +prominent, slate-colored eyes; she saw it in the increased +awkwardness of his motions when he either +walked or sat near her; she saw it in his bluff yet +repressed bravado of manner, as though he were at +surly odds with himself for having been suddenly cut +off in the flower of his vainglorious bachelorhood. +She had grown sharper-sighted for the detection of +these tender signs. And even in Brady their tenderness +was unmistakable. His clownish crudity had +softened, in all its raw lines. The effect might be +compared to those graceful disguises in which we +have seen moonlight clothe things that repel us under +the glare of day.</p> + +<p>One morning when Claire came down to breakfast +she found a huge basket of Jacqueminot roses awaiting +her, with Brady's card attached to it. She +flushed, for a moment, almost as red as the florid, +velvety petals themselves. Then she said, equally +addressing Mrs. Bergemann and Sophia:</p> + +<p>"How strange that he sent them to <i>me</i>! There +may have been some mistake."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not a bit of it!" Sophia exclaimed. "He's +dead gone about you, Claire. I've seen it lately. +So has Ma." Here the young lady turned toward her +mother, and lifted an admonishing finger. "Now, +Ma, don't you say a thing!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Bergemann would say a number of +things. Her amiability was so expansive, and made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +such a radius of glow and warmth all about her, that +she rarely found it possible to dislike anybody. She +had failed to realize that Brady was an offensive +clod. In her matrimonial concern for Claire, the +fact that he would one day, as the only child of his +father, inherit a vast fortune, reared itself before her +with irresistible temptation.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," she declared, "I don't know as +any girl <i>had</i> ought to refuse a fellow as awful well-off +as he is. Sophia's always talking of his great +big ears, and his boastful ways, and his style of getting +into tantrums about nothin' whatever. But +still, I guess he might make a good husband. He +might be just the kind that'll tame down and behave +'emselves after marriage. And they say he +ain't a bit mean; he ain't got <i>that</i> fault, anyhow. +And I guess he'd buy a manshun on the Avenu for +any girl he took, and just make her shine like a +light-house with di'monds, and roll round in her carriage, +and be high an' mighty as you can find. <i>I'd</i> +think twice, Claire, if <i>I</i> was you, before I let him +slip. That is, I mean if you don't decide you'd +rather have Mr. Thurston, who <i>does</i> seem fond o' +you, though I ain't said so before in your hearing, +dear, and who's an ellergant gentleman, of course, +even if he is a bit too old for a fresh young thing +like yourself."</p> + +<p>Claire laughed, in a high key, trying to conceal +her nervousness. "Oh, Mr. Thurston is quite too +old, Mrs. Bergemann," she said. "Please be sure of +that."</p> + +<p>The rich hue of the roses haunted her all day, +even when she was not near them. Their splendid +crimson seemed like a symbol of the luxury that she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +might be called upon to refuse. She had heard +about the emporium on Sixth Avenue. It made her +bosom flutter when she thought of being the mistress +of a great mansion, and wearing diamonds and rolling +about in her carriage. Then she remembered +Thurston's words concerning this man who had sent +her the roses. Was he so much of a monster, after +all? Might she not be able to humanize him? For +a long time she was in a very perturbed state. During +this interval it almost seemed to her that if he +should ask her to marry him she would nerve herself +and answer 'yes.'</p> + +<p>That afternoon she did not go to drive with Sophia. +Mrs. Bergemann went in her place. Claire sat beside +one of the big plate-glass windows of her delightful +chamber, and watched the clattering streams of carriages +pass below. Some of these she had now grown +to remember and recognize; a few of them possessed +a dignity of contour and equipment that pleased her +greatly. She would have liked to lean back upon the +cushions of some such vehicle, and have its footman +jauntily touch his hat while he received her order +from within, after he had shut the shining door with +a hollow little clang. The door should have arms +and crest upon it; she would strongly prefer a door +with arms and crest.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, while watching from the window, she +saw a flashy brougham, with yellow wheels, a light-liveried +coachman and a large, high-stepping horse +in gilded harness, pause before the Bergemanns' +stoop. The next instant Brady sprang out, and soon +a mellow bell-peal sounded below. Claire sat and +wondered whether he who had sent her the roses +would now solicit her company. It even occurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +to her that he might have passed Sophia and Mrs. +Bergemann on the avenue, and hence have drawn +the conclusion that she would be at home alone.</p> + +<p>She was quite right in this assumption. The +grand Michael presently brought up Mr. Brady's +card. Claire hesitated for an instant, and then said +that she would see the gentleman.</p> + +<p>She found Brady in the reception-room. He was +dressed with an almost gaudy smartness, which +brought all his misfortunes of face and figure into +bolder relief. He wore a suit of clothes that might +have been quiet as a piece of tapestry, but was +surely assertive in its pattern when used for coat and +trousers; his cravat was of scarlet and blue satin, +and a pin was thrust into it which flashed and glittered +so that you could not at first perceive it to be +a cock's head wrought of diamonds, with a little carcanet +of rubies for the red comb. He had a number +of brilliant rings on his big-knuckled hands, and the +sleeve-buttons that secured his low, full wristbands +were a blaze of close-bedded gems at every chance recession +of his sleeve. As he greeted Claire it struck +her that his expression was unwontedly sulky, even +for him. He appeared like a person who had been +put darkly out of humor by some aggravating event.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Miss Twining?" he said, holding +Claire's hand till she herself withdrew it. "I hope +you're well. I hope you're as well as they make +'em."</p> + +<p>Claire sat down while she answered: "I am very +well, Mr. Brady." Her visitor at once seated himself +beside her, leaning his face toward her own. "I +am sorry that both Mrs. Bergemann and Sophia are +out," she went on, with the desire to bridge an awkward +interspace of silence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>I</i> ain't, not a bit," said Brady, ardently contradictory. +"I'm glad of it, Miss Twining. I +wanted to have a little chin with you." He laughed +at his own slang, crossed his long legs, and leaned +back on the lounge which Claire was also occupying. +At the same time he turned his face toward his companion.</p> + +<p>Claire felt that decency now compelled her to offer +a certain acknowledgment. "I want to thank you +for those lovely flowers," she said. "They were +beautiful, and it was very kind of you to send them."</p> + +<p>He began to sway his head slightly from side to +side. It was his way of showing nearly every emotion, +whether embarrassment, perplexity, chagrin, or +even mollification.</p> + +<p>"Come, now," he began, "you didn't really think +a lot about 'em, did you?"</p> + +<p>"I liked them very much," returned Claire. She +was watching him, in all his unpleasant details, +though very covertly. She was asking herself, in +the dispassionate reflectiveness born of her calculating +yet feverish ambition, whether she could possibly +consent to be his wife if he should ever ask her. The +remembrance of his great prospective wealth dealt +her more than one thrilling stroke, and yet feelings +of self-distrustful dread visited her also. She feared +lest she might commit some irreparable mistake. She +was still very ignorant of the world in which she +desired to achieve note and place. But she had, at +the same time, a tolerably definite understanding of +some things that she aimed to do. Her talks with +Thurston had let in a good deal of light upon her +mind. She had not lost a single point in all his explanatory +discourse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm glad you <i>did</i> like 'em," said Brady, examining +his radiant rings for an instant. "They cost a +heap of stamps," he added, suddenly lifting his head +and giving her an intent look. "But I don't mind +that. I ain't a close-fisted chap, especially when I'm +fond of anybody. I guess you've seen that I think +a deal about <i>you</i>. I can't talk flowery, like some +chaps, but that don't matter." ... At this point he +suddenly took Claire's hand; his face had acquired +a still more sulky gloom; it was clouded by an actual +scowl. "Look here, now, Miss Twining," he said, +"I never expected to get married. I've had some +pretty nice girls make regular dead sets at me—yes, +I have—but none of 'em ever took my fancy. You +did, though. I stuck it out for two or three weeks, +and I daresay I kept giving myself clean away all +the time. But I saw 't wasn't any use; I'm caught, +sure; there ain't any mistake about it. We'll be +married whenever you say. I'll do the handsome +thing—that is, Father will. Father's crazy to have +me settle down. He's worth a lot o' money—I +s'pose you know that. He'll like you when he sees +you—I ain't afraid he won't. We can have a slam-bang +stylish wedding, or a plain, quiet one, just as +you choose. And don't you be alarmed about too +big a difference between you and I. Father may +kick a little at first, but he'll come round when +you've met once or twice. He'll see you're a good, +sound girl, even if you ain't as high up, quite, as +he'd want me to go for. There, now, I've broken +the ice, and I s'pose it's all fixed, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Claire had been trying to withdraw her hand, for +several moments, from the very firm grasp of this remarkable +suitor. But as Brady ended, she literally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +snatched the hand away, and rose, facing him, contemptuous, +and yet calm because her contempt was +so deep.</p> + +<p>"It is impertinent for you to address me like this," +she said, in haughty undertone. "You have no right +to take for granted that I will marry you. In the +first place, I do not like you; in the second place, I +think myself by no means your inferior, but greatly +above you as regards breeding, education, and intelligence; +and in the third place, I would never consent +to be the wife of one whom I do not consider a gentleman."</p> + +<p>She at once left the room, after thus speaking, and +saw, as she did so, that Brady's face was pale with +rage and consternation. His insolent patronage had +wounded her more than she knew. On reaching her +own room, she had a fit of indignant weeping. But +by the time that Sophia and Mrs. Bergemann returned +from their drive, she was sufficiently tranquil +to betray no sign of past perturbation.</p> + +<p>That evening Sophia went to one of her "sociables." +A male friend called for her, and they were +driven together to the entertainment in question, with +superb yet innocent defiance of those stricter proprieties +advocated in higher social realms. Mrs. Bergemann +retired somewhat early, and Claire was left +alone, as it happened, with Thurston, who chanced +to drop in a little after nine o'clock. Just before +Mrs. Bergemann left the drawing-room, she contrived +to whisper, in garrulous aside, with her plump face +quite close to Claire's, and all her genial, harmless +vulgarity at a sort of momentary boiling-point: "I +shouldn't be surprised, dear, if he should pop to-night. +And if he does, I ain't sure that you hadn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +better have him than Brady, for he's ever so rich, +though the other'll get that Sixth Avenu store and +two or three millions o' money behind it. Still, +please yourself, Claire, and don't forget to leave the +hall gas burnin' for Sophia when you go upstairs."</p> + +<p>Claire was in a very interrogative mood to-night. +"I should like to have Mr. Brady explained a little +more fully," she said, when Thurston and herself +were again seated side by side.</p> + +<p>Her companion gave a soft laugh. "I thought +that we had exhausted that subject," he said. "It's +not a very rich one, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to tell me anything about his +character as a man," Claire quickly replied. "But +I want to find out his standing in society."</p> + +<p>"He has no standing in society," said Thurston, +with instant decisiveness.</p> + +<p>"Do the people of whom you have spoken repeatedly—those +whom you term the best class, I mean—entirely +refuse to know him?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. They have never been called upon +to know or not to know him. The best class is in a +different world altogether. Perhaps Brady is aware +of their existence; he may have read of their entertainments +in the newspapers, or he may have seen +them occasionally at watering-places. But that is +all. His self-importance prevents him from realizing +that they are above him. He is essentially and utterly +common. He is surrounded by a little horde +of sycophants who worship him for his money, and +who are, in nearly all respects, as common as himself."</p> + +<p>"You mean the set of people with whom Sophia +associates?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. I mean the rich, vulgar set of which you +have so frequently seen specimens in this very room."</p> + +<p>Claire seemed to muse for a short while. "But +the others?" she soon asked. "Those people who +hold themselves above the Bergemanns—are they +all refined and cultured? That is, are there any +Bradys among them? Are there any Mrs. Bergemanns +or Sophias?"</p> + +<p>"I should emphatically say not. One may meet +people among them who are by no means models of +propriety or of high-breeding, but only as exceptional +cases. They are generally found to be ladies +and gentlemen; I don't know two more comprehensive +words than those for just what I desire to express. +Of course I have no large moral meaning, +now. I would merely imply that in outward actions, +at least, they preserve the niceties. Their occasional +deeds of darkness may be as solidly bad as anything +of the kind elsewhere. I should be very loth to +describe them as saintly. But they are usually polished. +Quite often they are rank snobs. Still oftener +they are stupid. Their virtues might best be +explained negatively, perhaps. They don't shock +you; they are not crude; they haven't forgotten that +a verb agrees with its nominative in number and person; +they don't overdress themselves; they very +rarely shout instead of talking, and ... well, for a +final negative, they never tell the truth when its +utterance might wound or annoy."</p> + +<p>Claire had seemed to be listening very earnestly. +She did not respond with her usual promptness. +Her tones were slow and thoughtful when she at +length said: "And they are what you would call +an aristocracy?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know why they are not. They are incessantly +being compared, to their own disadvantage, +with the aristocracies of foreign lands. But I have +traveled considerably, in my time, and on the whole +I prefer them to all similar bodies. There is less +sham about them, and quite as much reason for +existence. They point a very sad moral, perhaps; +they illustrate what certain austere critics like to call +the failure of republican ideas. But I've had so +many good friends among them that I can't consider +any institution a failure which is responsible for their +development."</p> + +<p>"And it is very hard to become one of their number," +Claire said, after another little pause. She did +not put the words as a question.</p> + +<p>"You seem to think it hard," Thurston answered. +Rare as was any impulsive order of speech with him, +this slight yet meaning sentence had nevertheless +found utterance, almost against his will.</p> + +<p>It was his first reference to the episode which both +vividly remembered, though in far different ways, and +which had cast round their subsequent intercourse, +even when directed upon the most mundane topics, a +delicate glamour of sentiment plainly perceptible to +each. Claire dropped her eyes, for a moment, then +suddenly lifted them, while the pink was yet deepening +in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Let us suppose that I am not speaking of myself," +she said. "Indeed," she went on, with a soft, +peculiar smile that had hardly lighted her lips before +it fled, "you have told me that <i>my</i> gate into +the kingdom of the elect is through—well, through +matrimony." She now looked at her companion +with so subtle a blending of the arch and the grave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +that Thurston, in all the solidity of his veteran +experience, was baffled how to explain it. "Suppose," +she suddenly announced to him, "that I +should marry Mr. Brady. He is your abhorrence, I +know. But if he put his millions at my disposal, +could I become the great lady you and I have talked +about?"</p> + +<p>Thurston was stroking his mustache, and he now +seemed to speak under it, a trifle gruffly, as he answered +her.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "I think you could—provided +Brady quitted the world after marrying you."</p> + +<p>Claire gave a little rippling laugh. "They would +never allow him to be one of them?" she asked, in +tones whose precise import her hearer still failed to +define, and which impressed him as midway between +raillery and seriousness.</p> + +<p>"No, never. If he has proposed to you, my poor +child, don't for an instant flatter yourself that you +could use him as a ladder by which to climb up into +your coveted distinction."</p> + +<p>These words were spoken with a commiserating +ridicule. Tried a man of the world as he was, +Thurston had of late been so deeply wounded that +he now felt his wound bleed afresh, at an instant's +notice, and deal him a severe pang as well. But +Claire, quite forgetting to make allowances, flushed +hotly, and at once said:—</p> + +<p>"I never told you that Mr. Brady had proposed to +me. And I do not think it proper or civil for you +to throw in my face what I have put to you in the +shape of a confidence."</p> + +<p>"Marry Brady. By all means marry him," said +Thurston. He had not been so bitterly affronted in +years.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire felt conscience-stricken by the recollection +of her own thoughts just previous to Brady's offer. +She had permitted herself to weigh the question of +whether or not marriage with such a man might be +possible. Then had come the sharp sense that it +would be degrading. For this reason she was now +humiliated beyond measure, and hence keenly angry.</p> + +<p>"I shall not marry him," she said, her lip faintly +quivering. "Why do you speak to me like this?" +Tears of shame now gathered to her eyes, and her +voice notably faltered. She found no more words +to utter. She felt that she was in a false, miserable +position. She felt that she deserved Thurston's contempt, +too, since she had given him, stupidly and +rashly, a hint of what had passed between herself +and the man whom they both despised.</p> + +<p>Thurston rose and placidly faced her. He was so +angry that he had just enough control left to preserve +tranquillity.</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I have said anything very hard +to you," he began.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have," retorted Claire, her voice in +wretched case. She knotted both hands together +while she spoke. She was still seated.</p> + +<p>Thurston went on as if there had been no interruption. +"But if I tell you the plain truth, I don't +doubt you will think me hard. I will tell it because +you need it. You are still a mere girl, and very +foolish. I am profoundly sorry for you. You have +no possible regard for that frightful young millionaire, +and yet you have permitted yourself to think +of marrying him. Such a marriage would be madness. +You would not accept me because you thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +me old, but it would be better if you married a decent +man of ninety than a gross cad and ruffian of twenty-three. +But whether you do sell yourself in this +horrid way or no, it is a plain fact that you are in +danger of committing some terrible folly. I see by +your face that you do not mean to heed my words. +But perhaps if you listen to them now, you will recall +them and heed them hereafter."</p> + +<p>"No," cried Claire, tingling with mortification, +and seizing on satire as a last defensive resort against +this deserved rebuke, whose very justice revealed her +own culpability in a clearer light; "no, if you please, +I won't listen! I shall ask, instead, that you will +kindly grant me the liberty of purchasing my own +sackcloth and of collecting my own ashes."</p> + +<p>She half turned away from him, with glowing face, +as she spoke; it was her intent to beat a prompt retreat; +but Thurston's firm, even tones detained her.</p> + +<p>"I warn you against yourself," he went on. His +anger had cooled now, and melancholy had replaced +it. "You have some fine traits, but there is an actual +curse hanging over you, and as a curse it will surely +fall, unless by the act of your own will you change it +into a blessing. It is more than half the consequence +of your land and your time, but it is due in part, +also, to your special nature. In other countries the +women whom fate has placed as it has placed you, +are never stung by ambition like yours. They are +born <i>bourgeoises</i>, and such they are contented to remain. +If they possess any ambition, it is to adorn +the sphere in which their destinies have set them, and +this alone. They long for no new worlds to conquer; +their small world is enough, but it is not too small to +hold a large store of honest pride. All over Europe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +one finds it thus. But in America the affair is quite +different. Here, both women and men have what is +called 'push.' Not seldom it is a really noble discontent; +I am not finding fault with it in all cases. +But in yours, Claire Twining, I maintain that it will +turn out a dowry of bitter risk if not woful disaster. +I exhort you to be careful, to be very careful, lest +it prove the latter. Don't let your American 'push' +impel you into swamps and quicksands. Don't let it +thrust you away from what is true and sterling in +yourself. Be loyal to it as a good impulse, and it +will not betray and confound you like a bad one. +You can do something so much better than to wreck +your life; you can make it a force, a guidance, a +standard, a leadership. You can keep conscience and +self-respect clean, and yet shine with a far surer and +more lasting brilliancy on this account.... Think +of my counsel; I shall not besiege you with any more; +no doubt I have given you too much, and with too +slight a warrant, already.... Good-by. If I should +never see you again, I shall always hope for you +until I hear ill news of you. And if bright news +reaches me, I shall be vain enough to tell myself that +we have not met, talked, argued—even quarreled, +perhaps—without the gain on your own side of +happy and valued results." ...</p> + +<p>Thurston passed from the room, swiftly, and yet +not seeming to use the least haste, before Claire, +strongly impressed and with her wrath at a vanishing +point, could collect herself for the effort of any +coherent sort of reply.</p> + +<p>She had caught one very clear glimpse of his face +just as he disappeared. His hazel eyes, troubled, yet +quiet, had momentarily dwelt with great fixity on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +her own. As she afterward recalled this parting +vision of a face grown so familiar through recent +weeks, it appeared to her solely in imaginative terms. +It ceased to be a face; it became a reproach, a remonstrance, +an advice, an entreaty.</p> + +<p>Immediately after his exit she sank into a chair, +feeling his late words ring through mind and heart. +She had never liked him so much as at that moment.</p> + +<p>She had a sense that he meant to avoid seeing her +again. But she did not realize through how much +vivid novelty of experience she must pass before they +once more met. If any such prescience had reached +her, she would have gone out into the hall and +plucked him by the sleeve, begging him to return, +filled with conciliatory designs, eager that he should +abandon all thought of permanent farewell.</p> + +<p>But as it was, she let the hall-door close behind +him, and sat staring at the floor and saying within +her own thoughts: "He is right. I am in danger. +I can save myself if I choose. And I <i>will</i> save myself +in time!"</p> + +<p>She clenched both hands as they drooped at either +side, and her eyes flashed softly below their shading +lids.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">She</span> was wholly unprepared for the intelligence, +a few days later, that Thurston had gone, in the +most sudden manner, to Europe. The Bergemanns, +mother and daughter, were both amazed by the departure +of their legal adviser, without a premonitory +word from him on the subject and apparently at +such brief notice. Claire, in the midst of her own +consternation, sharply dreaded lest some suspicion +should dawn upon them that she was concerned in +this precipitate change. But if Mrs. Bergemann let +fall any hint that such was her belief, it was made +in the hearing of Sophia alone; and the latter had +scouted from the first, as we know, all idea that +Thurston's regard for her friend could partake of +lover-like tenderness. The letter which he had +written to his client, announcing that he had sailed, +gave no reason for this abrupt course. It was a letter +somewhat copious in other respects, however, and +made thoroughly plain the fact that the partner of +him who wrote it would in every way defend and +supervise the interests of Mrs. Bergemann. "I shall +probably be abroad a number of months," ran Thurston's +written words, "but during that time rest sure +that all details of the slightest importance with respect +to your affairs shall be safely communicated +through Mr. Chadwick."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Chadwick soon afterward presented himself. +He was a lank man, of bloodless complexion and irreproachable +manners. "I think he's a reg'lar wet +blanket," said Mrs. Bergemann, with critical cruelty, +"after dear, high-toned Mr. Thurston. He <i>was</i> high-toned, +Claire, wasn't he, now?" she persevered, +with a sidelong, timorous look toward Sophia, who +chanced, besides Claire, to be present at the time.</p> + +<p>"Now, Ma!" broke in Sophia, accompanying this +vocative with a tart gesture of remonstrance, "Claire +doesn't know a bit better than you or I do whether +he was high-toned or not. <i>Do</i> you, Claire?"</p> + +<p>"I think almost everybody who ever met him," +said Claire, answering the appeal, "must have seen +it very clearly."</p> + +<p>She spoke this with nice composure. But she was +inwardly dismayed, wounded, almost tortured. For +many succeeding days she contrived to absent herself +from all Sophia's guests. Brady had totally disappeared +from her experience; he no longer presented +himself at the house. He was secretly fearful lest +Claire might publish the fact of his proposal broadcast +among the adherents with whom he stood supreme +as their moneyed and autocratic leader. He +suffered those torments of humiliation which only a +small soul, with small views of things and an immoderate +vanity, has learned the petty trick of suffering. +It is by no means hyperbole to state that +he inwardly cursed Claire for being the girl within +whose power he had put it to say that she had +actually repelled his superb matrimonial advances. +Longer concern with so unwholesome a creature +would be idle for the chronicler, especially since +henceforth he drops out of our record somewhat as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +Slocumb did, and with a scarcely more chivalrous +exit.</p> + +<p>Claire now passed through a period of extreme repentance. +Her old longings had vanished; she silently +planned for herself, with ascetic enthusiasm, +a future of humility and obscurity. She was a zealot +in a totally new way; she had abandoned all thought +of marrying, and had conceived the idea of mentally +fitting herself to become a governess. With this end, +she spent hours in the library. Incapable of doing +anything by halves, she now bent the full force of +her strong will and capable intellect toward obtaining +a proper educational competence. She swam far +out, so to speak, into the blue waters of knowledge, +and breasted them with good, vigorous strokes. She +was, for the time at least, passionately in earnest. +Thurston's farewell words rang incessantly through +her memory. She would crush down all that American +"push," once and forever. She would steer +from the perils against which he had warned her, by +one broad, divergent swerve. Her remorse and her +resignation held a poetic ardor of kinship. Her past +longings had indeed been a folly, and as such she +would unvaryingly treat them. She would be consistent +henceforward, and seek only what lay within +her lawful scope of action. She was like the convert +to a new faith, and she had all a convert's intensity +of fervor.</p> + +<p>From her two friends, however, she chose to guard +with caution the secret of this change. It was now +the early portion of June, and the fierce heat of summer +had literally leapt down on the city after several +weeks of raw, inclement May weather. The judgment +long ago passed upon our climate, that it has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +a summer, an autumn, a winter, but no spring, had +never been more fully confirmed. The city was +wrapt all day in a torrid drowse; the pavements lay +either in bleak glare or breathless shadow. On the +benches of the parks, where spots of dusk were +wrought by overbrowing branches, groups of jaded +citizens huddled together in moist discomfort. The +cars tinkled sleepily; the omnibuses lagged in rumbling +sloth; foul smells beset the nostrils, even from +genteel gutters or the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'door-ways'">doorways</ins> of high-priced restaurants. +People looked up at the wool-like pallor +of the sky, and wished that it would darken into the +cooling gloom of a thunderstorm.</p> + +<p>But Claire scarcely minded the heat. She had +known the fetid miseries of a Greenpoint summer. +Those spacious chambers and halls of the Bergemanns' +solid-built mansion were delicious indeed by +contrast. Striped awnings had been affixed to each +window, whose scalloped edges would flap in chance +waftures of breeze, while the stout bunting above +them changed the sunny rigors outside to a continual +soothing gloom. It was true that she had no sympathy +with hot weather; she liked an atmosphere in +which quick movement was pleasantly possible. But +she was nevertheless very much at her ease here and +now. She read; she studied; the library, bathed in +a tender dimness, pleased her with its vague rows of +books, its rough rich carpeting, its dark massive +wood-work. She had, for a time, that exquisite +feeling of the scholar who clothes himself with silence, +solitude, and repose, and who lets the outer +world touch him through soft, impersonal yet cogent +mediums. During this interval she was completely +happy. It was the old self-surrender of the <i>dévote</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +Literature was henceforth to be her cult, her idolatry. +The mere process of reading had always been one of +ease and speed with her. Past training helped her +now in the way of method and system. She had +learned how to learn. Her French readings were +frequent. Sophia had a French maid with whom +she often conversed. Her proficiency in the language +soon became marked and thorough.</p> + +<p>But suddenly her new contentment was shattered, +and by a rude stroke. Mrs. Bergemann began to +talk of leaving town. Claire almost felt, at first, as +if the ground were giving way beneath her feet. She +could only accompany her friends to a watering-place +in the position of a dependent and pensioner. Her +salary must stop, because her relations with Sophia +must of necessity lose all their instructive character. +"You would never continue our readings, Sophia," +she said, "in a crowded hotel, where you would +have countless distractions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I would, Claire," was the alert reply. +"We'll keep it up just the same. You'll pack a few +books in one of the trunks, and I'll promise to be a +good girl; you needn't feel a bit afraid. Ma's decided +on Coney Island. Now, don't look so glum, as +if you didn't have a friend in all the world. You've +been sort of queer, lately; you talk slower, somehow, +and you stick up there in the library nearly +all the time. But you're still my own nice Claire. +I swear by you, dear girl, just as I always did. If +there's anything on your mind I won't ask you what +it is."</p> + +<p>"There is something on my mind, Sophia," Claire +said. "But you must not ask me what it is, just yet. +I will tell you soon. Yes, I hope to tell you quite +soon."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>She went with them to Coney Island. They engaged +rooms at the Manhattan Beach Hotel. The +books had been packed and brought, but very few of +them were ever opened.</p> + +<p>"It's not a bit of use, Claire!" Sophia affirmed, +after the lapse of about five days. "We can't manage +it. There's always something happening, as you +see. Besides, nobody works here. Everybody idles. +It's in the air. Let's take a vacation."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, girls," said Mrs. Bergemann, at this +point, with motherly persuasion. "You better just +lay up some health for next winter, and quit the +books till we get home. Or p'raps we may get tired +of this place 'fore the summer's through, an' go +somewheres where it ain't so lively—I mean some +lazy place like Lake George or the White Mountains. +Then books and reading will fit in kinder natural. +But I don't think <i>I'll</i> care to leave here for a good +big while. I ain't ever seen anything like it before. +If we could only go driving here, now, and them +horses wasn't eating their heads off over in the city, +why 'twould be a reg'lar paradise. Sophia, I've just +rec'lected that I came to this very spot twenty years +ago if it's a day, with poor Pa! We was quite a +young couple, then ... that girl wasn't more'n a +baby, Claire. We took her along. Pa carried you, +Sophia. The Brewery wasn't started in them times, +an' ... well, I guess we got along with about five +hundred dollars a year, over at the small saloon at +Hoboken."</p> + +<p>"Now, Ma, you needn't go into such very close +particulars, please!" chided Sophia, whose large, +warm heart was not democratic enough always to +stand the intense humility of certain maternal reminiscences.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Mrs. Bergemann, with a good-humored +laugh; "we don't mind Claire. She's one +of us. Besides, we're up here in the bedroom, not +down on that crowded piazzer. Well, girls, as I was +saying, Pa and me came here that day, an' I declare +to goodness, the place was only a bare strip o' sand +with a few little shanties here and there, that they +called hotels. And just look at it now! Three +monstrous palaces, and all New York streaming down +every decent afternoon. It's like enchantment. I +can't believe I'm where I was twenty years ago. +I'm afraid I must be dreaming. But if I am, I don't +want to wake up; I want to keep right on till the +first o' September."</p> + +<p>"Only a few years ago the island was very much +the same as you describe it twenty years ago," said +Claire, who had dipped into a small descriptive handbook +telling about the marvelous growth of this +unique and phenomenal watering-place.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose I ought to find it a little bit too <i>gay</i>," +pursued Mrs. Bergemann, presently, in reflective afterthought. +"Poor Pa's been gone such a short +time." Here the lady heaved an imposing sigh +which her massive bust made no less visible than +audible. "But I can grieve just as well by mixing +in with folks as if I was hung round with crape an' +stuck off alone somewheres. Everybody's got their +own ways o' grieving, an' I ain't goin' to forget +poor Pa merely 'cause I look about a little and make +my second-mourning kinder stylish. Not a bit of +it!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bergemann certainly showed the courage of +her opinions, as regarded the sort of grief due her +departed spouse. Her laugh was loud in hall, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +dining-room, or on piazza. Her costumes tinkled +with black bugles, or rustled and crackled in sombre +yet ornamented grandeur. It is probable that grief +may have dealt her real pangs, and yet that the irrepressible +glow and warmth of her spirits kept always +at bay the gloom and chill of grief. Her nature was +not a shallow one; she could feel with depth and +force, but she could not mope or even muse; solitude +was hateful to her; she was gregarious; she wanted +to hear the voices and look into the faces of her kind. +In spite of her German origin she was excessively +representative, from a purely American stand-point. +Her very vulgarities—and they were certainly profuse—possessed +a wide, healthful sincerity. Her +enormous benevolence stood for her in the place of +refinement; it was indeed a certain code of manners +by itself; she was always so good to you that +you might pardonably forget to remark the unconventionalism +of her goodness. She was precisely +the sort of person whom Coney Island must have +pleased.</p> + +<p>But it pleased Claire in a totally different way. +The immense concourse of people who flocked thither, +by such easy modes of travel, from New York and +Brooklyn and elsewhere, were an incessant source of +interest. Their numbers, their activities, their enjoyments, +kept her blood in a soft tingle. This brilliant +and picturesque city by the sea appeared to her in +the light of a delicious reparation. It was a long, +splendid festivity, compensating her for those years +of dire dullness passed but a few miles away. All +her recent resolutions to spend a life of lowly quietude, +had melted into thin air. The ambition to +climb, to shine, and to rule was once more a dominant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +force within her being. It seemed to her as if she +had flung away some sort of irksome disguise, and +now beheld it lie like an ugly heap near at hand, +while wondering, in the exhilaration of regained freedom, +how she had ever chosen to shroud herself with +its clogging folds.</p> + +<p>She bathed every day in the ocean, and acquired a +richer fund of health on this account. Either with +Sophia or alone, though more often the latter, she +explored the whole wondrous little life-crowded island, +in which every grade of human society, from +lowest to highest, held for her its distinct representation. +The two huge Iron Piers, jutting out into the +surf and assailed by continual salty breezes, charmed +her with their streams of coming and departing people, +with their noonday lunchers, with their <i>table +d'hôte</i> diners, seated over cigarettes or coffee in the +sweet marine dusk. She loved West Brighton, with +its beer-bibbers, its gaudy booths, its preposterous exhibited +fat woman, its amazing Irish giant, its games +of strength or skill, and its whirling <i>carrousels</i>, where +delighted children span round on wooden horses, cows, +lions, or dragons, to the clamors of a shameless brass +band. But Brighton Beach, Manhattan Beach, and +the Oriental each afforded a steadier satisfaction. +The delicate and lightsome architecture of these +three hotels, with their myriads of windows, their +<i>châlet</i>-like patterns of roof, gable, and chimney, and +their noble outlooks upon the sea, grew dearer to +her as the structures themselves became more familiar. +She loved the fine sonorous music that pealed +forth from the big deft-built pavilions, where troups +of well-trained minstrels set many a brazen instrument +to their capable lips, and would often find as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>sembled +thousands for their listeners, either in the +long, salubrious afternoons, or in the breezy starlight +and moonlight of those exquisite seaside evenings. +Her observant eyes were never weary of watching, +and they forever found something to watch. She +soon acquired an extraordinary keenness in the matter +of "placing" people at sight. Few points of +manner, costume, or visage escaped her. She found +herself classifying and arranging the vast crowds +that she daily encountered. She became familiar +with the faces of many who frequently disembarked +from the loaded cars. Nor was her own face in turn +unnoticed. Augmented health had freshened its tender +tints, and lent to its lines a choicer symmetry. +Many an eye dwelt upon her with admiration. Almost +instinctively she had learned the art of disposing +her black garments to dainty advantage, and of +heightening their effect with little subdued touches +of maidenly tastefulness.</p> + +<p>Sophia's diversions increased with each fresh day. +Many of the male devotees with whom she had +romped during "sociables" of the previous winter, +sought her in these new surroundings. Claire was +compelled to acknowledge former introductions, and +sometimes to assume a conversational attitude with +the friends of her friend. But they all seemed to +her alike; they all reminded her of Brady, though +in a mercifully moderated way. She was invariably +civil to them, though they wearied and tried her. +They made her recall Thurston, whose remembered +comments fleeted through her mind, while his grave, +manly image appealed to it in retrospective vision. +She was on the verge of a novel and important experience; +but, of this unborn fact her longing for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +better companionship alone gave monition, and addressed +her by the imaginative stimulus which we +sometimes carelessly term presentiment.</p> + +<p>One evening, as she joined Mrs. Bergemann and +Sophia upon that portion of the hotel piazza which +was usually set aside for its regular patrons, she found +the two ladies in conversation with two gentlemen, +of whom she knew only one, ranking him as not by +any means the most ill-bred of Sophia's friends. He +was a young man named Trask, of canary-colored +eyebrows and a cloudy complexion, who had made +himself a favorite with both sexes of his particular +set through rousing no jealousies by superior personal +and mental gifts, yet winning golden repute as one +whose complaisant good-will would wince under +nothing short of positive imposition. The second +gentleman was presented to Claire as Mr. Hollister, +and her look had scarcely lit on his face before she +felt convinced that he was quite of another world +from his companions. Even while he was seated she +could see that he was tall and of shapely build. His +head was small, and covered with glossy blond curls; +his blond mustache fringed a lip of sensitive cut, +though the smooth chin beneath it fell away a little, +leaving his large, frank blue eyes, broad forehead, +and well-formed nose to fail of implying the strength +they would otherwise have easily told. He wore a +suit of some thin, dark stuff that clung tightly about +his athletic arms and chest, and contrasted with the +light silken tie knotted at his wide, solid throat. +Every detail of his dress was what Claire soon decided +to be in the best fashion; she had already +learned a good deal about the correct reigning mode +in men's dress. The extraordinary nicety and com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>prehensiveness +of her observation had made this one +of the sure results of her present sojourn.</p> + +<p>She liked Mr. Hollister at sight, and she liked him +more after she had heard him speak. His voice was +full and rich, like the voice of a man used to the +shout that often goes with the out-door game; he +could not be more than five-and-twenty, at the most, +she decided; he seemed a trifle bashful, too, but +bashful with a virile grace that pleased her better, +in so robust and engaging a person, than the most +trained self-possession could have done.</p> + +<p>Sophia had always felt a liking for the yellow-eyebrowed +young gentleman; they were the firmest of +friends. The coming of Claire appeared to relieve +her from the responsibility of "entertaining" Mr. +Hollister, whom she had never met till this evening. +She soon drifted away arm-in-arm with her preferred +companion, among the dark throngs beyond the huge +bright-lit piazza. Mrs. Bergemann, perhaps from an +instinctive perception of how matters lay with Claire, +presently rose and sought the society of a matronly +friend, seated not many yards distant, whom she had +known in anterior Hoboken days, and who had +reached nearly as fat a prosperity as her own, from +possibly similar causes.</p> + +<p>Claire was glad to be alone with her new acquaintance. +He had roused her curiosity; she wanted to +find out about him, to account for him. Thus far +they had said the most impersonal and ordinary +things to each other. She remembered afterward +that they had used the old meteorological method +which has so often served as the plain, dull path into +fervent friendships or still warmer human relations; +they had talked of the weather.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm really surprised to hear that it has been so +very hot in the city," Claire said, breaking the pause +that followed Mrs. Bergemann's departure.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it has been dreadful, I assure you," said Mr. +Hollister. "Ninety in the shade at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Why, we have had a lovely breeze here, all day, +straight from the ocean," Claire resumed, with a +pretty little proprietary wave of one hand seaward, +as though she were commending the atmospheric +virtues of her own special domain. "Once or twice +I have felt actually chilly." He looked incredulous +at this, then broke into a soft, bass laugh; laughter +was frequent with him, and made his blue eyes +sparkle whenever it came.</p> + +<p>"I've forgotten how it feels to be chilly," he said. +"I wonder if I could stand any chance of reviving +the sensation down on the shore yonder."</p> + +<p>He spoke the words in the manner of an invitation, +and doubtless seeing prompt acquiescence in +Claire's face, at once leaned forward to ask "Will +you go?" Claire straightway rose, answering "With +pleasure." She took his offered arm, and thought +while she did so how strong and firm it was, as if +bronze or stone were beneath its flimsy vestment, instead +of muscular mortality. The band in the illuminated +pavilion near by had lately paused, but it now +struck up a waltz rich in long mellow-pealing cadences. +"Is this your first visit here?" said Claire, +as they descended the broad piazza steps, down toward +the smooth, trim levels of grass and the massive, +rounded beds of geranium, whose scarlets and +greens now looked vague in the starlight. "Or have +you been here many times before," she went on, "during +past seasons, and so lost all your enthusiasm for +this charming place?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've been here about six times in all," he answered, +"but my enthusiasm is still in fine order. +It's ready to break forth at any minute. If you +want, Miss Twining, we can have a combined eruption +this evening."</p> + +<p>Claire thought this clever; it had so fresh a sound +after the blunt fun she had long heard; it made her +think a little of the way Beverley Thurston phrased +his ideas, though any resemblance between the two +men could only exist for her in the large generic +sense that they were both gentlemen. She laughed, +with a note of real glee among the liquid trebles of +her mirth. It seemed to her that she had already +got to know Mr. Hollister quite well. And yet they +were still such strangers! She had still so much to +learn regarding him!</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you've nothing to say against this delightful +island," she declared, as if mildly jubilant +over the discovery. "I heard a man on the sands +talking about it to a friend only a few mornings ago. +He was a shabby man who wanted shaving, and I'm +not sure that he had on any collar. I think he must +have been a kind of philosopher. He said that +Coney Island was an immense fact. There is just +my opinion—that it is an immense fact." They +were now but a slight distance from the foamy, rolling +plash of the dark sea-waves. The music came +to them in bursts of softer richness. With her arm +still in that of her companion, Claire half turned toward +the hotel, starred with countless lights, and +looking, as it rose above the vague throngs beneath +it, like some palace of dreamy legend, lit for festival.</p> + +<p>"I often think that this mere strip of sand must +be so surprised," she continued, "to find itself grown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +suddenly important and famous after it has lain here +lonely, almost unnoticed, for long centuries. I sometimes +fancy that I can hear the waves talk to it as +they break on its shore, and ask it what is meant +by this wonderful change."</p> + +<p>"That's a very pretty way of looking at the matter," +replied Hollister, while he gazed down into her +face from his considerably taller height with a keener +expression of interest and charm than he himself +guessed. "Perhaps the waves congratulate Coney +Island on its final success in life, and gently quote to +it the old proverb about everything coming to those +who know how to wait."</p> + +<p>Claire started. "Do you believe that?" she said. +"<i>Does</i> everything come to those who know how to +wait?"</p> + +<p>Hollister laughed again. "You talk as if <i>you</i> had +been waiting. But I'm sure it can't have been for +very long."</p> + +<p>This last sentence was put at least half in the form +of a question. But she evaded it, saying with a light +little toss of the head: "Hasn't everybody always +something to wait for, between youth and old age?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me something about your expectations, +won't you?" he asked, with the non-committal tenderness +of a man whose acquaintanceship has been +too brief for any serious depth to accompany his +words. "You can't think how much I wish that I +was one of them."</p> + +<p>"One of my expectations? You?"</p> + +<p>"Decidedly."</p> + +<p>"But how could I answer you on that point?" +she returned, letting him catch in the gloom a +glimpse of her sly smile. "You're only a name to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +me. If you'll not think my candor rude, I haven't +an idea who you are."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I should think you rude if you +really were so," he said, smiling, and yet seeming to +mean with much quiet force each word that he +spoke. "So you want me to give an account of myself? +Well, I'm a rather obscure fellow. That is, +I don't believe I know more than ten people in New +York at all well. I lead a quiet life; I'm what they +call a Wall Street man, but I mingle with the big +throng there only in a sort of business way. I was +graduated at Dartmouth two years ago, and spent a +year in Europe afterward. Then I came back, and +began hard work. There were reasons why I should +do so—I mean financial reasons. I'm not a New +Yorker; I was born and reared in Providence. Do +you know Providence?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Claire. "I know only New York."</p> + +<p>She was looking at him interestedly at short intervals; +they had resumed their stroll again; her arm +was still within his; he had continued to please her, +though she felt no thrill of warm attraction toward +him, however mild in degree. She had a sense of +friendship, of easy familiarity. But apart from this, +she was conscious, as a woman sometimes not merely +will but must be, that she had won him to like her by +a very easy and rapid victory. Already she was not +sure but that she had won him to like her strongly +as well. Her few recent words of reply had carried +with them a subtle persuasion of which Hollister +himself was oddly and most pleasurably conscious. +He yielded to their effect, and became somewhat +more free in his personal confidences.</p> + +<p>"My father had been a Dartmouth man," he went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +on. "That was the reason of my going there. Father +and Mother have both passed away, now. It's +a lovely old college, and it gained me some strong +friendships. But I find that all my favorite classmates +have drifted into other cities. They sometimes +write to me, even yet, after my year in Europe. +But, of course, the old good feeling will shortly cease +... how can it fail to cease?... I'm a good deal +alone, just now. I know a number of men there in +Wall Street, but I feel a little afraid of making +friends with them. I don't just know why, but I +do. Perhaps it's because of getting into bad habits. +Some of them, I've noticed have very bad habits. +And I've made up my mind ... that is, I—I half +promised my poor dear mother just before she.... +Well, Miss Twining, the plain truth is that I keep +regular hours and live straight, as they say. I like +to take a sail down here while the weather is hot, but +I nearly always take it quite by myself. To-night I +happened to meet Trask on the boat. I'd nearly forgotten +Trask. He was in my Freshman year with +me, but he dropped off after that. It was he who introduced +me to—to the Miss—excuse me, but I +really forget your friend's name."</p> + +<p>"Miss Bergemann," said Claire.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—Miss Bergemann." He paused, at +this point, gently forcing Claire to pause also. They +were still beside the sea; the music still came to +them in its modulated sweetness. Hollister bent his +head quite low, looking straight down into her upturned +face.</p> + +<p>"I've told you ever so much about myself," he +said. "I wish, now, that you'd give me a little +knowledge also. Will you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"About <i>my</i>self?" asked Claire. "About just +who I am?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>She reflected for a short space. Then she began +to speak. She told him, as she went on, more than +she had at first intended to tell. He listened intently +while they slowly walked on, beside the dark, +harmonious billows.</p> + +<p>Before she had ended, he had realized that he was +in love with her. He had never known anything of +such love till now. His heart was fluttering in a +new, wild way; he could scarcely find voice to answer +her when she at length ceased to speak. But +she had not told him all her past life. She had reserved +certain facts. And her own feelings were entirely +tranquil. Not the least responsive tremor disturbed +her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Hollister</span> nearly missed the last boat back to the +city, that evening. His night was partially sleepless, +and morning brought with it a mental preoccupation +that was surely perilous to what tasks lay before him. +Like most men who have escaped the stress of any +important sentiment until the age of five-and-twenty, +he was in excellent condition for just such a leveling +seizure as that to which he had now made complete +surrender. He was what we call a weak nature, +judged by those small and ordinary affairs of +life which so largely predominate in almost every +human career. If some great event were ever fated +to rouse within him an especial strength, this summons +had not yet sounded, and he still remained, for +those who had found cause to test the fibre of his +general traits, a person in whom conciliating kindliness +laid soft spell upon them all. His friends at college +had been mostly of tough calibre, of unyielding +will; he seemed unconsciously to have selected them +in order that they might receive his concessions. But +they were never encouraged in fostering the least +contempt for him. The spark of his anger always +leapt out with the true fire, prompt to resent any +definite disrespect. Yet the anger sometimes cooled +too quickly toward those whom he liked; there had +been cases where he would waive his own claims<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +to be indignant, with too humble a repentance of +past heat. Necessarily such qualities made him popular, +and this result was not lessened by the fact of +his being almost rashly generous besides. His mental +gifts had never been called powerful, but he had +cut no sorry sort of figure as a student; and he possessed +an airy humor that seldom deserted for a long +time either his language or thought.</p> + +<p>During the week that followed his introduction to +Claire, he visited the hotel where she was a guest +on every evening but two. One of those evenings +chanced to be fiercely rainy; he could not have come +to Coney Island without having his appearance there +savor markedly of the ludicrous. The other evening +was the last of the week. He had asked Claire to +marry him the night before. She had not consented, +neither had she refused: she had demurred. He was +piqued by her hesitation, and affrighted by the +thought of her possible coming refusal. He passed +a night and a day of simple torture. Then, his suspense +becoming insupportable, he appeared once more +within her presence. His aspect shocked her; a few +hours had made him actually haggard. His hand +trembled so when she placed her own within it that +she feared the perturbation might be noticed by +others besides herself, there on the crowded piazza +where they met.</p> + +<p>"I've come to get your answer," he began, doggedly, +under his breath. "You said last night that +you were not sure if you—you cared enough for me. +Have you found out, by this time, whether you do or +no?"</p> + +<p>"There are two empty seats, yonder, near the railing +of the piazza. Shall we sit there?" She said +this almost in a whisper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you choose. But I—I'd rather be down on +the sands. I'd rather listen to it there, whatever +it is."</p> + +<p>But Claire feigned not to hear him. It was her +caprice to remain among the throng. She moved toward +the empty seats that she had indicated, he following. +In all such minor matters she had already +become the one who dictated and he the one who +acquiesced.</p> + +<p>The night, lying beyond them, was cool but beautifully +calm. An immature moon hung in the heavens, +and tinged the smooth sea with vapory silver, so +that its outward spaces took an unspeakable softness, +as though Nature were putting the idea of infinity +in her very tenderest terms.</p> + +<p>There was no music to-night, for some reason. +The buzz of voices all about them soon produced for +each a sense of privacy in the midst of publicity.</p> + +<p>"You asked me to be your wife last night," +Claire began, looking at him steadily a little while +after they were both seated, and not using any special +moderation of tone because certain of her own +vantage in the prompt detection of a would-be +listener. "Before I give you any final answer to +that request—which I, of course, feel to be a great +honor—it is only just and fair that I should make +you know one or two facts of my past life, hitherto +left untold."</p> + +<p>This was not the language of passion. Perhaps +he saw but too plainly its entire lack of fervor. Yet +it seemed to point toward future consent, and he felt +his bosom swell with hope.</p> + +<p>"If it is anything you would rather leave untold," +he said, with a magnanimity not wholly born of his +deep love, "I have not the least desire to learn it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire shook her head. "You must know it," she +returned. "I prefer, I demand that you shall know +it."</p> + +<p>He felt too choked for any answer to leave him. +If she imposed this condition, what was meant by its +sweet imperiousness except the happy future truce +for which he so strongly yearned? On some men +might have flashed the dread suspicion that her words +carried portent of an unpardonable fault, about to be +confessed there and then. But Hollister's love clad +its object in a sanctifying purity. Apart from this, +moreover, his mind could give none of that grim welcome +which certain dark fears easily gain elsewhere. +The sun had long ago knit so many wholesome +gleams into his being that he had no morbid hospitality +for the entertainment of shadows.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you of how my father died," Claire +went on, with her face so grave in every line that +it won a new, unwonted beauty from the change. +"And I want to tell you, also, of something that was +done to me after his death, and of something that I +myself did, not in personal revenge for my own sense +of injury, but with the desire to assert my great respect +for his loved memory, and to deal justice where +I thought justice was deserved."</p> + +<p>Then in somewhat faltering tones, because she had +deliberately pressed backward among recollections +so holy that she seemed to herself like one treading +on a place filled with sacred tombs, she recounted +the whole bitter story of her mother's avarice, of +her father's ignoble burial, and of her own resultant +flight. The tears stood in her eyes before she had +ended, though they did not fall. As her voice ceased +she saw that Hollister had grown very pale, and that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +his brows met in a stern frown. At the same moment +his lip trembled; and as he leaned forward, +took her hand into his own, pressed it once, briefly +but forcibly, and then released it, she caught within +his gaze a light of profound and unmistakable sympathy.</p> + +<p>"I think your mother's course was infamous," he +said. "Did you suppose that I could possibly blame +you for leaving her?"</p> + +<p>Claire had dropped her head, now, so that he could +see only the white curve of her forehead beneath its +floss of waved and gold-tinted hair. And she spoke +so low that he could just hear her, and no more.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I thought you might blame me.... I was +not sure.... Or, if not this, I feared that the way +in which poor Father was buried might ... might +make you feel as if I bore a stain—or at least that +the disgrace of such a burial, and of having a mother +who could commit so hard and bad an act, must reflect +in shame upon myself."</p> + +<p>If they had been alone together, Hollister would +have answered this faint-voiced, hesitant speech by +simply clasping Claire within his arms. But the +place forbade any such fondly demonstrative course. +He was forced to keep his glad impetuosity within +conventional bounds; yet the glow on his face and +the tremulous ardor of his tones betrayed how cogent +a surge of feeling was threatening to sweep him, poor +fellow, past all barriers of propriety.</p> + +<p>As it was, he spoke some words which he afterward +failed to remember, except in the sense that +they were filled with fond, precipitate denial of all +that Claire had said. He felt so dazed by the bliss +that had rushed upon him as to fail, also, of recall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>ing +just how he and Claire left the populous piazza, +and just how they reached the lonelier dusk of the +shore. But the waves brought him rare music as he +paced the sands a little later. His was the divine +intoxication that may drug the warder, memory, but +that wakes to no remorseful morrow....</p> + +<p>Claire wondered to herself when she was alone, +that night, at the suddenness of the whole rapid +event. She had given her pledge to become Herbert +Hollister's wife in the autumn. While she +viewed her promise in every sort of light, it seemed +to her sensible, discreet, even creditable. He was a +gentleman, and she liked him very much. She had +no belief, no premonition that she would ever like +any one else better. She was far from telling herself +that she did not love him. We have heard her call +herself cold, and it had grown a fixed creed with her +that she was exempted by some difference of temperament +from the usual throes and fervors. He +suited her admirably, in person, in disposition, in +manners. She need never be ashamed of him; she +might indeed be well proud of so gallant and handsome +a husband. Her influence over him was great; +she could doubtless sway, even mould him, just as +she desired. And she would bear clearly in mind +those warning words of Beverley Thurston's: she +would use her power to good ends, though they +might be ambitious ones. From a worldly stand-point, +he was comfortably well off; his income was +several thousands a year; he had told her so. With +his youth and energy he might gain much more. +She would stimulate, abet, encourage him toward the +accomplishment of this purpose. He should always +be glad of having chosen her. She would hold it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +constantly to heart that he should find in her a guide, +a help, a devoted friend. And he, on his side, should +aid her to win the place that she coveted, loving her +all the better because she had achieved it.</p> + +<p>When these rather curious meditations had ceased, +she fell into a placid sleep. She had been wholly unconscious +of the selfish pivot on which they turned. +It had quite escaped her realization that they were +singularly unsuited to the night of her betrothal. +She had no conception of how little she was giving +and how much she was demanding. She fell asleep +with a perfectly good conscience, and a secret amused +expectancy on the subject of Sophia's and Mrs. Bergemann's +surprise when to-morrow should bring them +the momentous tidings of her engagement.</p> + +<p>But they were not so much surprised as she had +anticipated. The attentions of Hollister had been +brief, yet of telling earnestness. Sophia hugged her +friend, and cried a little. "You mean old thing," +she exclaimed, "to go and get engaged! Now, of +course, you'll be getting married and leaving us."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that's the natural consequence," said +Claire, with a smile. Mrs. Bergemann pressed her +to the portly bosom, and whispered confidentially, +just after the kiss of congratulation: "He's a real +ellergant gentleman. I think I know one when I +see one, Claire. And don't you let Sophia set you +against him. She better try and do half as well herself. +<i>She'll</i> marry some adventuring pauper, if she +ain't careful, I just do believe."</p> + +<p>Claire felt a great inward amusement at the +thought of Hollister being depreciated in her eyes +by any light value which Sophia might set upon +him. As it proved, however, Sophia soon learned to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +forgive him for the engagement, and to treat him +very graciously. Before the summer had grown much +older Claire and her lover began to be pointed out by +the few other permanent boarders of the hotel, with +that interest which clings like a rosy nimbus about +the doings of all betrothed young people. They certainly +made a very handsome couple, as they strolled +hither and thither. But Claire's interest, on her own +side, had been roused by certain little côteries that +would often group at one end of the monster piazza. +The ladies of these small assemblages were mostly +very refined-looking persons, and many of the gentlemen +reminded her of Hollister, though their coats, +trousers, boots, and neck-ties not seldom bore an elaborated +smartness unpossessed by his. They looked, +in current idiom, as though they had come out of +band-boxes, with their high, stiff collars, their silver-topped +walking sticks, and their general air of polite +indolence. The ladies, clad in lace-trimmed muslins +and wearing long gloves that reached above their elbows, +would hold chats with their gallants under the +shade of big, cool-colored parasols. Claire was often +pierced by a sense of their remarkable exclusiveness +when she watched their dainty gatherings; and she +watched them with a good deal of covert concern. +Hollister could not even tell her any of the gentlemen's +names. This caused her a sting of regret. She +wanted him to be at least important enough for that. +His ignorance argued him too unknown, too unnoted. +One day, to her surprise, Claire perceived Mrs. Arcularius, +her former august schoolmistress, seated amid +a group of this select description. Mrs. Arcularius +had lost none of her old majesty. It was still there, +and it was an older majesty, by many new gray hairs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +many acquired wrinkles. She was a stouter person, +but the stoutness did not impair her dignity; she bore +her flesh well.</p> + +<p>Claire determined to address her. She waited the +chance, and carried out her project. Mrs. Arcularius +was just rising, with two or three other ladies, for +the purpose of going inside to luncheon, when Claire +decided to make the approach.</p> + +<p>She looked very charming as she did so. Hollister +had brought her a bunch of roses the evening before, +and she had kept them fresh with good care until +now. They were fixed, at present, in the bosom of +her simple white muslin dress, and they became her +perfectly. She went quite close to Mrs. Arcularius, +and boldly held out her hand.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to meet you again," she said, +"and I hope you have not forgotten me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Arcularius took her hand. Under the circumstances +she could not have done otherwise without +committing a harsh rudeness. And she was a woman +whose rudenesses were never harsh.</p> + +<p>With her disengaged hand she put up a pair of +gold eye-glasses. "Oh, yes, surely yes," she said, +while softly dropping Claire's hand; "you were one +of my pupils?"</p> + +<p>Claire did not like this at all. But she would not +have shown a trace of chagrin, just then, for a heavy +reward. She smiled, knowing how sweet her smile +was, and promptly answered:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry that you only remember me as one of +your pupils. I should like you to remember my +name also. Are you quite certain that it has escaped +you? Does not my face recall it?"</p> + +<p>"Your face is a very pretty one, my dear," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +Mrs. Arcularius. She looked, while speaking, toward +her recent companions, who were moving away, +with light touches of their disarranged draperies and +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'side-long'">sidelong</ins> glances at Claire. Her tones were impenetrably +civil, but her wandering eye, and the slight +averted turn of her large frame, made their civility +bear the value, no less, of an impromptu veneer.</p> + +<p>Claire divined all this, with rapid insight. Her +wit began to work, in a sudden defensive way. She +preserved her smile, looking straight at Mrs. Arcularius +while she said, in a voice pitched so that the +other ladies must of necessity hear it:</p> + +<p>"I was so obscure a little girl among all the grand +little girls who went to your school in my time, that +I don't at all blame you for finding it inconvenient +to recall me. I fear I have been mistaken in addressing +you as the woman of business, my dear madam, +when you find the great lady alone to your humor. +But you have played both parts with so much success +that perhaps you will pardon me for alluding to +one at the expense of the other."</p> + +<p>There was nothing pert in Claire's little speech. +The few seconds that it took her to make it were +epical in her life; they showed her the quality of her +own powers to strike back with a sure aim and a +calm nerve; she was trying those powers as we try +the temper of a new blade.</p> + +<p>She moved away at once, with tranquil grace, and +not a hint of added color or disconcerted demeanor. +It was really very well done, in the sense that we call +things well done which depend upon their manner, +their felicity, their <i>chic</i> of method. The ladies looked +at each other and smiled, as though they would rather +have kept their lips grave through politeness to Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +Arcularius; and she, on her own side, did not smile +at all, but revealed that disarray of manner which we +can best express in the case of some large fluttered +bird by noting its ruffled plumage.</p> + +<p>Nothing in Claire's past had qualified her for this +deft nicety of rebuke. Those stands made against +her mother's coarse onsets had surely offered but a +clumsy training-school for such delicate defiance. +And yet her history has thus far been followed ill +if what she said and did on a certain day in Mrs. +Arcularius's school-room has not foreshadowed in +some measure the line of her present action. Perhaps +it was all purely instinctive, and there had been, +back in the gentility of her father's ancestry, some +dame of nimble repartee and impregnable self-possession, +who had won antique repute as dangerous to +bandy speech with.</p> + +<p>But Claire's tranquillity soon fled. She was +scarcely out of Mrs. Arcularius's sight before an angry +agitation assailed her. When, a little later, she +met Sophia in one of the halls, it was with sharp difficulty +that she hid her distress.</p> + +<p>Still, however, she did hide it, sure of no sympathy, +in this quarter, of a sort that could help to heal her +fresh wound. That evening, however, a little after +the arrival of Hollister, and while they walked the +sea-fronting lawns and listened to the distant band, +as had now grown a nightly and accepted event with +them, she narrated the whole circumstance of the +morning.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I did right, Herbert?" she finished, +sure of his answer before it came.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, my darling," he said, looking down +into her dim, uplifted face. "I wouldn't have had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +you do anything else. You must cut that old Gorgon +if you ever meet her again. You must cut her +dead, before she has a chance to serve the same trick +on you."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," returned Claire, as if +his words had set her thoughts into a new groove. +"Perhaps she may be of use to me afterward. I +may need her if we ever meet in ... society." She +slightly paused before speaking the last word. "If +she hasn't left by to-morrow I shan't see her, you +know. I won't cut her; I simply shan't see her. It +will be better."</p> + +<p>Hollister laughed. What he would have disliked +in another woman fascinated him in Claire. "You +little ambitious vixen," he said, in his mellow undertone. +"I suppose you will lead me a fine dance, +after we are married. I suppose you will make me +strain and struggle to put you high up, on the top +rung of the ladder."</p> + +<p>"I should like to be on the top rung of the ladder," +said Claire, with that supreme frankness a woman +sometimes employs when sure that the man who +listens to her will clothe each word she speaks in an +ideal halo.</p> + +<p>At the same time, she had an honest impulse toward +Hollister which should be recorded to her +credit. She had not planned for him any thrilling +discoveries of her worldliness after their marriage; +she candidly saved him all peril of disappointment. +But he, on the other hand, could see neither rock nor +shoal ahead. If she pointed toward them, he looked +only at the hand which pointed, and not at the object +it so gracefully signaled.</p> + +<p>She did not see Mrs. Arcularius again. That<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +lady's visit had doubtless been for a day only. The +dainty groups still assembled, mornings and afternoons, +just as before. Now and then she thought +that some of their members—those who had witnessed +the little scene with her former schoolmistress—gave +her a look of placid attention which seemed +to say: "There you are. We remember you. You +are the young person who asserted yourself."</p> + +<p>She wanted them to address her, to strike an acquaintance +with her. But they never did. This +piqued her, as they were all permanent residents at +the hotel. She made no concealment of her wish to +Hollister.</p> + +<p>"It is too bad you do not know some of their male +friends," she said. "If you did, I should get you to +introduce them."</p> + +<p>He fired a little at this, mildly jealous. "Do you +really mean it?" he asked, with doleful reproach.</p> + +<p>Claire did not understand his jealousy, at first; +then it flashed upon her, through a sudden realization +of his great fondness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I should merely like to know them for one +reason," she said, laughing. "They would introduce +me in turn, perhaps, to those charming looking ladies, +who belong to another world. I like their world—that +is, the little I have seen of it. I want to see +more. I want to have them find out that I am quite +suited to be one of them."</p> + +<p>His jealousy was appeased. He softened in a moment. +It was only her pretty little foible, after all—her +delightfully droll longing to be ranked among +the lofty aristocrats.</p> + +<p>"I wish I did know some of the men you mean," +he said, with apologetic concern, as though she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +asked him for some gift which he could not manage +to secure. "I think that I have seen two or three +of them in Wall Street; but we have never met on +speaking-terms."</p> + +<p>More than once he pointed out to her a gentleman +in the throng whom he did know, or told her the +name of such an acquaintance, after transiently bowing +to him. But Claire, with a fleet glance that was +decisively critical, never expressed a desire to meet +the individuals thus designated. Something in their +mien or attire always displeased her. She dismissed +them from her consciousness with the speed born of +total indifference.</p> + +<p>And now a most unforeseen thing happened. Mr. +Trask, of the yellow eyebrows, had made repeated +visits to Sophia, but Claire, because of the novel +change in her own life, had failed to observe what +to Mrs. Bergemann had become glaringly evident. +One day, in the middle of August, Claire entered +the latter's room, and found Sophia weeping and her +mother briskly loquacious.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what she's crying about, Claire," +Mrs. Bergemann at once proceeded to explain, with +an aggrieved look toward her tearful daughter. +"She don't want to go with me home to Germany; +I s'pose that's it. And there's my own flesh and +blood, Katrina Hoffmann, who's written me a letter, +and begged me in it to come and pay her a visit before +she dies. And because I want to go across in +September—after you're married, Claire, of course—Sophia +behaves like a baby."</p> + +<p>"Katrina Hoffmann!" now exclaimed Sophia, with +plaintive contempt. "She's Ma's second-cousin, +Claire. And what does Ma care about Germany?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +She was a child of ten when she left it. I don't +want to go, and I won't go, and there's all about +it!"</p> + +<p>But Sophia, for the first time in her life, had found +a master in the mother who had so incessantly yielded +to her least whim. The letter from Germany, as +Claire soon discovered, was a mere pretext for flight. +And Trask, of the yellow eyebrows, had caused this +fugitive impulse in Mrs. Bergemann. She had +learned about Trask; he was a clerk in an insurance +company, on seven hundred a year. Sophia was the +heiress of three millions. It would never do. All +Mrs. Bergemann's rich fund of good nature shrank +into arid disapproval of so one-sided a match. She +developed a monstrous obstinacy. It was the old maternal +instinct; she was protecting her young. They +went to Germany in spite of all Sophia's lamentations. +They went in the middle of September, and +poor Trask was left to mourn his lost opportunities. +Certain threats or entreaties, declaimed in private to +Sophia by her affrighted parent, may have laid a veto +upon the maiden's possible elopement. Or it may +have been Trask's own timid fault that she did not +fly with him. For she was very fond of Trask, and +might have lent a thrilled ear to any ardent proposition +from so beloved a source. But Trask had not a +romantic soul; he accepted his fate with prosaic resignation. +Moreover, his tendency to be obliging, to +grant favors, to make himself of high value in an +emergency, may have come forth in heroic brilliancy +at the private request of Mrs. Bergemann herself.</p> + +<p>Wherever the real truth of the matter may have +lain, Mrs. Bergemann and Sophia, as a plain fact, +went to Europe in September, leaving the bereaved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +Trask behind them. But both, before their departure, +were present at the marriage of Claire and Herbert +Hollister.</p> + +<p>It was a very quiet wedding. It occurred on an +exceedingly hot day. Sophia and her mother were +to sail the day after. They both gave effusive good-byes +to Claire as she left the Fifth Avenue mansion +in her traveling-dress at Hollister's side.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I should never, never see you again!" +Sophia said, in a sort of pathetic gurgle, with both +arms round Claire's neck.</p> + +<p>It was indeed true that they never met again. +Sophia afterward forgot Trask, and married in Europe. +Her husband, as a few ill-spelled letters would +from time to time inform Claire, was a Baron. Up +to the period when these letters ceased, Sophia had +repeatedly declared herself to be very happy. Claire +occasionally wondered whether Mrs. Bergemann had +approved of the Baron. But Mrs. Bergemann did +not come back to tell, which, after all, seemed like a +good omen.</p> + +<p>On that sultry September day of their marriage, +Claire and Hollister started for Niagara, where they +remained but a brief while. They then returned to +Manhattan Beach by mutual consent. The weather +still remained very hot. It was what we call a late +season.</p> + +<p>They found at the hotel a moderate number of +guests, who were waiting for the first sharp gust of +autumn to make them scurry in droves from the seaside.</p> + +<p>Hollister resumed his business. He went and came +every day in the train or boat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire did not feel at all like a bride. But she and +her husband had talked together about their future, +and she had the sense of a great, vital, prosperous +change. She felt like a wife.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A</span> long chain of days followed, each in every way +like the other. One steady yet lazy wind pulsed from +the south; the skies were clad with an unaltering +blue haze from dawn till dark, except that a rosy +flush, like a kind of languid aurora, would steal into +the full round of the horizon with each new sunset, +and stay until evening had first empurpled it, then +darkened it completely. Afterward the stars would +come forth, golden, globular, and rayless, while the +same unchanged southerly wind would get a damp +sharpness that made at least a light wrap needful if +one remained out of doors. The great piazza would +be almost vacant an hour or so after nightfall, and +the whole shore quite lonely. As regarded all after-dark +visitors, the island had virtually closed its season. +But Claire and Hollister haunted the piazza a +good deal when the early autumnal darkness had +emptied it of occupants. After they had dined he +would light his cigar, and then select a certain hundred +yards or so of the firm wooden flooring, over +which they passed and repassed, arm-in-arm, more +times than perhaps both their healthful young frames +realized. The other guests of the hotel doubtless +conjectured that they were saying all sorts of tender +trifles to each other, according to the immemorial +mode of those from whom the honeymoon has not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +yet withdrawn her witching spells. But in reality +there was very little between them of what we term +lover-like discourse. Claire discouraged it in her husband, +who obeyed the tacit mandate.</p> + +<p>She was prosaic and practical on these occasions. +It amused and charmed Hollister to find her so. In +any guise that it chose to wear, her personality was +an enchantment. Claire planned just how they were +to live on their return to town, and he thought her +irresistible in this rôle of domestic anticipation.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to find apartments," she told him. +"We cannot afford to rent a house of our own. But +apartments are very nice and respectable. They are +quite different from a boarding-house, you know. I +should be very sorry if we were compelled to board."</p> + +<p>"So should I," declared Hollister. "Are you sure +that we have not enough to let us rent a small +house?"</p> + +<p>Claire's eyes glistened, as though the chance of +their income being made to stretch thus far suggested +charming possibilities. But she soon gave a +sad shake of the head. "No," she decided. "We +should only find ourselves running into debt. We +had better take no rash risks. Your business is full +of them, as it is, Herbert. Besides, a year or two +may make the change easy for us."</p> + +<p>She amazed him by the speed with which she +learned just how his affairs stood. Her quick mastery +of facts that with most women baffle both memory +and understanding, was no less rare than thorough. +It had always been thus with her. Whatever +she wanted to comprehend became her mental possession +after slight and brief effort. It was not long +before she read the price-list of stocks in the morning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +papers with nearly as lucid a perception of just what +it meant as Hollister himself. She made her husband +explain as well as he could—and this was by +no means ill,—both the theory and practice of Wall +Street speculation. She soon began to know all his +important investments, and talk of them with facile +glibness.</p> + +<p>Her control over Hollister daily strengthened. She +would have swayed a man of much firmer will, and it +is certain that he grew steadily more deferent to her +judgment, her counsel, or even her caprices. The +desire that she so plainly laid bare to him he had already +estimated as a most right and natural development. +In his eyes it was touched with no shade of +selfishness; its egotism was to be readily enough condoned; +one liked self-assertion in those whom nature +had wrought of finer stature, from better clay. The +queen pined for throne and sceptre; they were a debt +owed her by the world; she could not help being +born royal.</p> + +<p>It irritated him that those people in the hotel +whom she had expressed a wish to know, should not +have sought her acquaintance and society. She must +have struck them as a creature of great beauty and +grace. Why had they not been won into paying her +tribute? This was Hollister's fond way of putting +the matter to his own thoughts. A few of these +same people still remained. They formed a little +clique among themselves; they, too, were waiting for +the drowsy and torpid weather to wake up and send +them townward. They saw Claire daily, almost +hourly, and yet they never showed a sign of caring to +do more than see her. Hollister secretly resented +their indifference. His pride perhaps conspired with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +his love in making him bring Claire a fresh supply of +flowers every evening, that she might wear them +brilliantly knotted in the bosom of her dress. She +remonstrated with him on the extravagance of this +little devoted act, but for once he overruled her protest +by a reference to the cheapness of flowers at that +especial season. She always wore the flowers. Jutting +forth in a rich mass from the delicate symmetry +of her breast, they became her to perfection, as their +lovely contact becomes all save the most ill-favored +of women. She allowed Hollister to continue his +pleasant, flattering gift. The mirror in her dressing-room +was of generous proportions.</p> + +<p>By day she liked to stroll the shore, or to sit with +a book on one of the many benches, and watch, when +not reading, the pale blue sweep of ocean, smooth +as oil, and flecked with a few white-winged ships. +Some of the sails were so faint and far away to the +eye that they made her think of blossoms blown by +a random breeze clear out into the misty offing. But +now and then a boat would move past, hugging the +shore, and wearing on its breadth of canvas huge +black letters that advertised a soap, a washing powder +or perhaps a quack medicine. The tender poetry +in sky or sea gave these relentless merchantmen (if +the term be not inapt) a most glaring oddity. But +Claire did not wholly dislike, after all, the busy push +of life and traffic which they so harshly indicated. +If she had been less capable of understanding just +how vulgar a note they struck, she might have disapproved +of them more stoutly. As it was, she accepted +their intrusion with full recognition of its +ugliness, yet with a latent and peculiar sympathy. +It reminded her of the vast mercantile city that lay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +so near—the city where her young husband was +seeking to augment his gains, and by a process of +slight essential difference.</p> + +<p>But curiously in contrast with this feeling was +Claire's mode of now and then speaking to the shabby +people who frequented the shore, and repeatedly giving +them alms when this or that woful story of +want would meet her ears. Past experiences made +her singularly keen in detecting all the sham tales of +beggars. She had learned the real dialect of poverty, +and her sense was quick to perceive any suspicious +flaw in its melancholy syntax. More than once she +would engage little dingy-clad children in converse, +and nearly always a coin would be slipped into their +hands at parting. But one day it happened that a +child of smart gear, a little girl about five years old, +came up to her side and began prattling on the subject +of a sandy structure which the plump, tiny hands +had just erected, a few yards away. The child had +a fat, stupid face which was shaded by a big, costly-looking +hat, along whose brim coiled a fashionable +white plume. Every other detail of her dress implied +wealthy parentage. Her little form exhaled +a soft perfume, as of violets. She looked up into +Claire's face with dull, unintelligent eyes, but with +a droll assumption of intimacy, while chattering her +fluent nonsense regarding the product of her recent +sportive toil. Claire was not prepossessed, but at +the same time she took the little creature's hand very +socially, and listened to her brisk confidences with +amiable heed.</p> + +<p>But a French <i>bonne</i>, in a fluted cap, suddenly appeared +upon the scene, and cut short the child's further +overtures of friendship by drawing her away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +with swift force and a gust of voluble French reprimand. +The child broke into peevish screams, and +was at once lifted by the strong arms of the <i>bonne</i>, +just as a lady abruptly joined them. The lady shook +her forefinger at the child, while she was being borne +away with passionate clamor.</p> + +<p>"Tu as été très méchante," exclaimed the new-comer, +remaining stationary, but following with a +turn of the head and unrelaxed finger this tragic departure. +"Nous avions peur que tu ne <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'fus'">fusses</ins> tombée +dans la mer. Tais-toi, Louise, et sois bon enfant!"</p> + +<p>Distance soon drowned the lamentations of little +Louise, and the lady now addressed herself to Claire.</p> + +<p>"I hope my bad little girl hasn't been troubling +you," she said. "It is really the nurse's fault that +she strayed away in this wild style. Aline is horridly +careless. I've already discharged her, and that +makes her more so. Last week at Newport the poor +child nearly fell over the cliffs because of that woman's +outrageous neglect."</p> + +<p>"Your little girl was in no danger here, I think," +said Claire, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; of course not," returned the lady. She +gave Claire a direct, scanning look, and then dropped +upon the bench beside her. "Coney Island is very +different from Newport. We had a cottage there all +summer. Do you know Newport?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Claire. "It is a very delightful place, +is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," returned the lady, with a covert dissent +in her admission. "It's nice, but it's awfully +stiff."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean ceremonious?" asked Claire.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I got frightfully tired of it. I always do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +My husband likes it, and so I go on his account. I'd +much rather go to Narragansett or Mount Desert. +They're more like real country, don't you know? +You haven't got to button your gloves all the time, +and pose your parasol. You're not bothered with +thinking whom you shall know and whom you +shan't. You can let yourself loose. I love to let myself +loose. But you can't do it in Newport. Everybody +there is on a kind of high horse. Now I like +to come down, once in a while, and ride a pony."</p> + +<p>The lady gave a shrill, short laugh as she ended +these words. Claire had already noted all her personal +details. She was tall of figure and extremely +slender. She had a sharp-cut face which would have +gained by not being of so chill a pallor. Her black +eyes were full of restless brilliancy; her lips were +thin, and marked at their rims by a narrow bluish +line. She carried herself with an air of importance, +but her manner was very far from the least supercilious +display. She promptly impressed you as a +woman whose general definition was a democratic +one, though aristocracy might also be among her +minor meanings. She had no claims to beauty; she +was too meagre in point of flesh, too severe in general +contour, too acute in her angles. She lacked all +the charm of feminine curves; she was a living conspiracy +of straight lines. You could not closely observe +her without remarking the saliency of her +joints; she seemed put together on a plan of cruel +keenness. At the same time, her motions were not +awkward; she managed her rectilinear body with a +surprising ease and pliancy. Her health appeared +excellent, notwithstanding her slim frame and chalky +color. The warmth, speed, and geniality of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +speech, evidently springing from high animal spirits, +no doubt enforced this inference.</p> + +<p>Claire felt not a little puzzled by her, and had an +immediate wish to find out just who she was. On +the afternoon of yesterday she had once or twice +joined the patrician group and had chatted with this +or that member of it, apparently on the most familiar +terms. Claire already knew, having thus observed +her, that she was a recent arrival. But past experiences +made it seem quite probable that she was +merely a tolerated nobody. 'Would she join me like +this and address me so affably,' Claire asked herself, +'if she were some one of real note?'</p> + +<p>At the same time, any trace of such self-depreciation +was far enough from showing itself in Claire's +spoken answer.</p> + +<p>"Everything is tiresome, I suppose," she said, "if +there is too great a supply of it. For my own part, +I think that I like the conventionalities, as they are +called. I haven't seen enough of them in my life to +be wearied by them. I have known what poverty is +in other years, and now, when I contrast it with the +little ceremonies and forms that accompany prosperity, +I find myself rather glad that these exist."</p> + +<p>Her companion looked surprised for a moment. +She put her thin face rather close to Claire's. The +candor of the latter was a novelty. Claire had used +it with a somewhat subtle intent. Her fleet tact had +told her that it was best frankly to count herself outside +of the social pale behind which she more than +suspected that this garrulous matron belonged.</p> + +<p>"Oh, so you've been poor?" came the somewhat +rattling response. "But of course you're not so +now, or you wouldn't speak of it. Poverty must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +so perfectly awful. I mean when one is born different +from the people who ... well, don't you know, +the people who are in tenement-houses, and all that." +The speaker here paused, while arranging the long +<i>mousquetaire</i> gloves that reached in tawny wrinkles +far up either sharp arm. "Well," she suddenly recommenced, +"I dare say I ought to care more for +style and form and fashion. I was brought up right +in the midst of it. All my relations are perfectly +devoted to it. They look on me as a kind of black +sheep, don't you know? They say I'm always going +into the highways and hedges to pick up my +friends. But I don't mind them; I laugh at them. +They're here now in full force. There are two of +the Hackensacks, and two of the Van Corlears, and +two of the Van Kortlandts—all cousins of mine, +more or less removed. I was a Van Kortlandt before +I married. I'm Mrs. Manhattan Diggs, now, and I +have been for five years. The best of the joke is +that my husband, whom I perfectly dote on, by the +way, and who's the dearest in all Christendom, disapproves +of me as much as my relations do. The +other day he called me a Red Republican, because I +said society in New York was all trash. So it is +trash. It's money, money, and nothing else. When +he makes me dreadfully mad I throw his name at +him. <i>Diggs</i>, you know. Isn't it frightful? His +mother was a Manhattan—one of the real old stock, +and she married a man by that name—an Englishman +with a fortune. If he hadn't been rich I'd +have pitied my poor husband. He'd never have +made a dollar. I tell him that all he can do is to sit +in the club-window, and drive, and bet, and play +cards. But he's just as lovely to me as he can be,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +so I don't mind. I worship him, and he worships +me, so we get on splendidly together, of course.... +And now I've told you my name, you must tell me +yours. I hope it's prettier than mine. It ought to +be, you're so immensely pretty yourself."</p> + +<p>"My name is Mrs. Hollister," said Claire. "Mrs. +Herbert Hollister. I have been married only a few +weeks."</p> + +<p>"A bride! Really? How delightful! Do you +actually mean it? I dote on brides. I'm sure we +shall be friends."</p> + +<p>They rapidly became so. Claire was by no means +averse to the arrangement. Mrs. Diggs was violent, +explosive, precipitate, but she was not vulgar. Besides, +her roots, so to speak, were in the soil that +Claire liked. They lunched together that day at +one of the little tables in the vast, airy dining-room. +While they were seated at the meal, several of the +elegant ladies passed on their way toward other +tables. Mrs. Diggs nodded to each of them familiarly, +and her nods were distinctly returned. Claire +took special note of this latter point.</p> + +<p>"Your relations will think you have deserted +them," she said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs laughed. "They think I'm always +deserting them," she exclaimed. "I don't believe +my absence is a great affliction; they manage to endure +it.... Oh, by the way, here comes Cousin +Cornelia Van Horn. She must have arrived to-day. +Excuse me for a moment. I'll have to go and speak +to her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs hastily rose and went toward a lady +who was herself in act of crossing the room, but who +paused on seeing her approach. The meeting took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +place not far from where Claire was seated. She saw +Mrs. Diggs give her kinswoman a kiss on each cheek +like the quick peck of a bird. They were cheeks +that time had faded a little, but the face to which +they belonged had a haughty loveliness all its own. +At least five-and-thirty years had rounded her figure +into soft exuberance, mellowing but scarcely marring +its past harmonies. She was very blonde; her eyebrows, +each a perfect arch, and the plenteous hair +worn in a dry, crisp matwork low over her white +forehead, were just saved from too pale a flaxen by +the least yellow tinge. Her features were cut like +those of a cameo, but they were too small and too +near together for positive beauty, while her eyelids +had too deep a droop, and her nose, by nature lifted +too high at the extreme tip, lost nothing of the pride, +even the arrogance it bespoke, from the exquisite +poise of her head above a long throat and sloping +shoulders. Claire decided that she had never seen a +woman so stately and yet so lightsome, or one who +could so clearly suggest the serenity and repose of +great self-esteem without thrusting its offensive scorn +into harsh evidence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs remained with her new companion +several minutes. Her severe back, in all its rather +trying outlines, was presented to Claire during this +interval, though once she slightly turned, making a +little gesture with her bony hand that seemed to indicate +either the table she had just quitted or the +figure still seated there. And soon afterward Claire +saw that the person whom she had heard named by +Mrs. Diggs was looking steadily at her with a pair of +cold, light-blue eyes. While she returned this look +it struck her that a change of color touched the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +placid face of her observer, though the flush from +faint pink into pink only by a shade less dim might +easily have passed for a trick of deceptive fancy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs presently came trotting back to the +table, with her odd combination of graceful movement +and bodily sharpness.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Hollister," she began, while seating +herself, "do you know that Cousin Cornelia +knows all about you? I happened to mention your +name before you were married—Miss Twining, +wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Claire.</p> + +<p>"Well, the name seemed to strike her, and she at +once asked if you had not stayed quite a long time +with Mrs.... Mrs.... Oh, you mentioned her +when you spoke of being here several weeks before +your marriage."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bergemann," said Claire, and immediately +added, in tones full of quiet interest: "Well, Mrs. +Diggs?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that was what <i>placed</i> you, don't you know, +with Cousin Cornelia. Yes, Mrs. Bergemann; that +was the name."</p> + +<p>"Did your cousin know Mrs. Bergemann?" inquired +Claire.</p> + +<p>"She didn't say so. But she appeared to know +just who <i>you</i> were. I think she's going to make me +present you. There seems to be some queer mystery. +She acted rather strangely. Are you sure you've +never met before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am perfectly sure," answered Claire. +"Did you not say that the lady's name was Van +Horn?"</p> + +<p>"Cousin Cornelia's? Why, yes; of course it is.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +She's my second cousin. She's related on the Van +Kortlandt side. She was a Miss Thurston."</p> + +<p>"Thurston," repeated Claire, not interrogatively, +but as though she had caught the sound with recognition +the instant it left the speaker's lips. She +broke into a smile, now. "That explains everything. +She is a sister of Mr. Beverley Thurston, is +she not?"</p> + +<p>"Cousin Beverley? Of course she is. Do you +know <i>him</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Claire. "I knew him very well."</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't tell me so!" blithely exclaimed +Mrs. Diggs. "I dote on Beverley. I suppose he +thinks me dreadful, but I dote on him, just the same. +He is so broad, don't you know? He's seen so +much, and read so much, and lived so much, generally. +And with it all he's so conventional. That +is the way I like conventionality—when you find it +in some one who makes it a sort of fatigue-dress for +liberal views, and not the uniform of narrow ones."</p> + +<p>"I approve your description of Mr. Thurston," +said Claire, slowly. "It tells me how well you know +him."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs creased her forehead in puzzled style, +and bent her face closer toward Claire's. "What on +earth do you suppose it was that made him dart off +so suddenly to Europe?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Claire stooped, as though to discover some kind of +objectionable speck in the cup of chocolate that she +was stirring, and then removed what she had found, +with much apparent care. "He did go quite unexpectedly, +did he not?" she said, lowering her head +still more as she put the speck on her saucer and examined +it with an excellent counterfeit of the way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +we regard such things when uncertain if their origin +be animal or vegetable. She wondered to herself, at +the same time, whether Mrs. Diggs would notice her +increased color, or whether she herself had merely +imagined that her color had undergone any sort of +change. "At some other time," she went on, letting +the words loiter in utterance, with a very neat simulation +of preoccupied attention ... "at some other +time, Mrs. Diggs, I should like to talk more with you +about Mrs. Van Horn's brother. But just now I +want to ask you about Mrs. Van Horn herself."</p> + +<p>Here Claire briskly raised her head. The problem +of the aggressive speck had seemingly been solved. +"I have heard Mr. Thurston mention that he had +a sister of that name," she continued, now speaking +with speed, "but he told me almost nothing regarding +her. She appears to be a very important person."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs glanced toward a distant table at which +she had already seen her cousin seat herself. Then +she turned to Claire again, as though confident of +how safely remote was the lady whom she at once +proceeded to discuss.</p> + +<p>"Cornelia <i>is</i> a very important person, Mrs. Hollister. +As I told you, she's my second cousin. I +used to see a good deal of her before I was married. +She's at least ten years older than I am. She +brought me out into society. I was an orphan, don't +you know, and there was nobody else to bring me +out. I <i>had</i> to be brought out, for I was eighteen, +and all the rest of the family were either in mourning, +or were too old, or else had gone to Europe, or +... well, something of that sort. So Cornelia gave +me a great ball. It was splendidly civil of her. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +I don't think she did it from the least benevolence. +No, not at all. She had ended her term of widowhood, +and wanted to <i>appear</i> again, don't you know? +The ball was magnificent, and it gathered all her old +<i>clientèle</i> about her. I remember it so well; it is +only eight years ago. I stood at her side, behind a +towering burden of bouquets which it made my wrist +ache to hold. Cornelia was in white satin, with +knots of violets all over her dress. I shall never +forget that dress. She wore amethysts round her +throat, and in her hair, and on her arms. It was a +kind of jubilant second-mourning, don't you know? +She looked superb; she was eight years younger +than she is now. People gathered about her and +paid their court. She resumed old acquaintances; +she received open or whispered compliments; she +was the event of the evening. <i>I</i> was nearly ignored. +And yet it was <i>my</i> ball; it had been given for me, +to celebrate my <i>début</i> in society. But as the evening +progressed I began to discover that I had been +made a mere pretext. Cornelia herself was the real +reason of the ball. She had simply used me as an +excuse for reëmerging. She reëmerged, by the way, +with seventy thousand a year, and a reputation for +having been one of the reigning belles of New York +before she married Winthrop Van Horn. She was +poor when she married Winthrop, and he lived only +a few years afterward. He left her every penny of +his money; there were no children. Cornelia was a +devoted wife; at least, I never heard it contradicted, +and I've somehow always accepted it. I think +everybody has always accepted it, too. He died of +consumption in Bermuda, and it is usually taken for +granted, don't you know, that he died in Cornelia's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +arms. For my part, I can't imagine anybody dying +in Cornelia's arms.... But that's neither here nor +there. She kept herself as quiet as a mouse for five +years. But mice are nomadic, and they gnaw everything. +And Cornelia, during those five years of +bereaved woe, to my certain knowledge, took a peep +at every capital in Europe. After the ball—the +ball that she gave <i>me</i>, please understand—she became +a great leader. She's a great leader still. +Didn't Beverley tell you <i>that</i>, Mrs. Hollister?"</p> + +<p>"No," stated Claire, keenly interested by this nimble +monologue. "As I said, Mr. Thurston scarcely +did more than mention his sister's name."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs applied herself actively to a fragment +of cold chicken, which she had left neglected through +all these elucidating items. Claire watched her, +thinking how clever she was and yet how uncircumspect. +With what slight incentive had been roused +this actual whirlwind of family confidences!</p> + +<p>"She perfectly adores Beverley," Mrs. Diggs presently +continued. "I have an idea that she does so +because he's a Thurston—or rather because <i>she's</i> +one. She has contrived to make it appear very exceptional +to be a Thurston. The Thurstons have never +been anything whatever. Her mother married into +the family, and cast a spell of aristocracy over them. +But Cornelia never alludes to the Van Kortlandt connection. +She knows that can take care of itself. I +believe her grandfather, on the other side, was a saddler. +But she has managed to have it seriously disputed +whether he was a saddler or a landed Knickerbocker +grandee. The panels of her carriage bear a +Thurston crest. It is a very pretty one; I am quite +sure she invented it. I once told Beverley so, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +he laughed. <i>He</i> has never used it, though he has +never denounced it as spurious. The joke is that +she ignores the Van Horn crest entirely, which is the +only one she has any right to air. Cornelia is a +great leader, as I said. She has Thursday evenings +in the big old house on Washington Square which +her late husband left her. Lots of people have struggled +to go to Cornelia's Thursdays, and not gone, +after all. It's absolutely funny to observe what a +vogue she has got. She could make anybody whom +she chose to take up a social somebody by merely +lifting her finger. But she never lifts her finger. +That is why she is so run after. You can't get her +to use the power she possesses. It yearly grows +more of a power, don't you know, on this very account. +It's like a big deposit in a bank, that gets +bigger through lying there untouched. She won't +spend a penny; she lets it grow. The women of +New York are becoming a good deal less flippant, +some of them, than they used to be. Clubs and receptions +have come into fashion, where intellectual +matters are seriously, even capably discussed. Somebody +will read a paper on something sensible and literary, +and a little debate will follow. At one of +these clubs—composed strictly of women—it is forbidden +to mention the last ball, though this may have +occurred on the preceding night and everybody may +have seen everybody else there, talking the usual gay +nonsense. The whole thing is a kind of 'movement,' +don't you know? It's very picturesque and it's extremely +in earnest. It makes one think a little of +the old historical French <i>salons</i>. It has laid bare +some charming and surprising discoveries. It has +shown how many women have been reading and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +thinking in secret, during those long intervals of +leisure that have occurred between their opportunities +for being publicly silly, inane, flirtatious, and +hence of correct form. On the other hand it has led +certain women to cultivate their minds as they would +a new style of dressing their hair. All that we used +to satirize in former entertainments of this kind fails +to exist in those I am describing. Pipe-stem curls +and blue spectacles are replaced by the most Parisian +felicities of costume. A delightful-looking creature +in a Worth dress that fits her like a glove will give +us her 'views' on the Irish land-question or the +persecution of the Jews in Russia.... And now I +come to the real object of my digression, as the long-winded +orators say. Cornelia Van Horn frowns upon +all this. She has gathered about her a little faction, +too, which frowns obediently in her defense. You +must not fancy for a moment that Cornelia could not +shine in these assemblies if she chose to favor them. +She has brains enough to <i>out</i>shine nearly all their +supporters. But she condemns the intellectual tendency +in women when thus openly exhibited. If +they want to read and think, they should do it in +the quiet of their closets, and in the same way that +they write their letters, or glance over their accounts, +or distribute their household orders. There is no objection +to philosophy, science, belles-lettres, so long +as these are not made to interfere with the general +dignified commonplace of the higher social life. To +be individual, argumentative, reformatory, is to be +professional. To be professional is not to be 'good +form.' The moment that a drawing-room is made +to resemble a lecture-room or a seminary it becomes +odious from a patrician stand-point. Only queens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +and duchesses can afford to paint pictures or to write +books, without loss of caste. A consistent aristocracy +never discovers new ideas; it accepts old ones. Agitators +are the enemies of repose, and repose is the +soul of refinement."</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Diggs gave a gleeful trill of laughter +that made Claire compare it to her mind as well as +her person; it was so clear and sharp. "Oh, you +can't imagine," she went on, "how radical Cornelia +is in her positively feudal conservatisms. I'm so +liberal, don't you know, that I can appreciate her +narrowness. I relish it as one does a delicious joke. +But it's a very curious sort of bigotry. There's +nothing in the least spontaneous about it. I've a +conviction that she sweeps her eye more widely over +this fine Nineteenth Century than any of the ladies +I've been telling you about. She has seen that she +can only reign on one kind of a throne, and she +sticks there. And I assure you, there isn't the least +doubt that she reigns in good earnest.... I'm surprised +that Beverley Thurston didn't tell you about +her. Beverley has got her measure so exactly. He +thinks me dreadful, as I said, but he's fond of me. +I'm sure we always amuse each other."</p> + +<p>"No," said Claire, shaking her head slowly, "he +was very reticent on that subject. Perhaps he +thought I might want to know her if he painted her +portrait as you have done. That would have been +awkward for him, provided his sister had declined +my acquaintance. And I dare say she would have +declined it, as I was not in her exclusive circle."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs put her head a little on one side. She +was looking at Claire intently. A smile played like +a faint flicker of light on her thin lips, whose two +bluish lines always kept the same tinge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why are you so candid with me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Candid?" repeated Claire.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why do you show me that you would like +to know Cornelia Van Horn?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" still repeated Claire. "Did I show you +that?"</p> + +<p>"Not openly—not in so many words, don't you +know? But I imagine it."</p> + +<p>"You are very quick at imagining," said Claire, +with a little playful toss of the head. "Well, if you +choose, I <i>should</i> like to know her. I should like to +know any one who ranks herself high, like that, and +has a recognized claim. I have a fellow-feeling for +ambitious people. I'm ambitious myself."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs seemed deeply amused. She lifted a +forefinger, and shook it at Claire.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you're <i>very</i> ambitious," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am," admitted Claire, not knowing how +much rosy and dimpled charm her face had got while +she spoke the words. "I am quite willing to concede +that I have aims, projects, intentions."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs threw back her head, and laughed +noisily. But she lowered her voice to a key much +graver than her laugh, as she said:—</p> + +<p>"You're as clever as Cornelia, in your way. Yes, +you are. I shouldn't be surprised if you were a good +deal cleverer, too. I suspect there's a nice stock of +discreet reserve under your candor."</p> + +<p>Claire creased her brows in a slightly piqued manner. +"That is not very pleasant to hear," she said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs stretched out her hand across the table +so pointedly and cordially that Claire felt forced to +take it.</p> + +<p>"I like you. You interest me. Forgive me if +I've annoyed you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You haven't annoyed me," was Claire's reply.</p> + +<p>"I want to see those aims, projects, intentions," +Mrs. Diggs continued, still holding her hand, and +warmly pressing it besides. "Yes, I want to see you +<i>exploiter</i> them—carry them out. You shall do it, if +I can help you. And you will <i>let</i> me help you, I +hope? You won't think me disagreeably patronizing, +will you? I only speak in this way because +I've taken a desperate fancy to you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Claire. Her eyes were sparkling; +her heart was beating quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Hollister returned that evening, almost the +first words that Claire spoke to him were: "Congratulate +me, Herbert. I have taken a fine forward +step at last."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"I have got to know somebody of importance. I +have launched my ship."</p> + +<p>"Oho," laughed Hollister, understanding. "I +hope the ship will prove seaworthy, little captain. +You must steer with a prudent eye, remember. All +sorts of squalls will lie in wait for your canvas, no +matter how well you trim it."</p> + +<p>"That is just the kind of sailing I like," said +Claire. "I've been becalmed long enough."</p> + +<p>He laughed at this, in his hearty way, as though +it were quite a marvel of wit. "Come and tell me," +he proposed, "about the important somebody who +has been sensible enough to discover you."</p> + +<p>They were alone together, in their wide, cheerful +apartment, overlooking the ocean. They were about +to go down and dine, and Hollister had just finished +a few preparatory details of toilet. Lights had been +lit, for the rapid autumn dusk had already thickened +into nightfall; but though they could not see the +starlit level of waters just beyond their windows, +they had a sense of its nearness in the moist, salty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +breeze, whose tender rush made the drawn shades +bulge, and set the loose lawn curtains fluttering buoyantly.</p> + +<p>Hollister sank into a chair as he spoke the last +sentence, and at the same time put an arm about his +wife's waist, drawing her downward until she rested +upon his knee. The roses at her bosom brushed his +face, and he thrust his head forward with a sigh of +comic infatuation, as though rapturously inhaling +their perfume. But his free hand soon wandered +up along the chestnut ripples of her hair, and he began +to smooth them, with a touch creditably dainty +for his heavy masculine fingers.</p> + +<p>Claire permitted his caresses. She always permitted, +and never returned them. He had slight sense +that this was a coldly unreciprocal course; it appeared +to fit in neatly enough with the general plan +of creation that she should receive homage of any sort +without further response than its mute recognition. +That was the way he had constantly known her to +act, or rather not to act; a change would have surprised, +perhaps even shocked him; she would have +ceased to be his peculiar, accustomed Claire; his revered +statue would have lost her pedestal, and he +had grown to like the pedestal for no wiser reason +than that he had always seen it enthrone her.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you all about my discoverer," Claire +said, with matter-of-fact directness; and she at once +began a swift and succinct little narration.</p> + +<p>"Diggs," Hollister suddenly broke in, with one +of his fresh laughs. "Oh, look here, now; you've +made some big mistake. She can't be one of your +adored swells, with such a name. It's—it's ... +cacophonous, positively!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wait, if you please," said Claire, with demure +toleration, as though a bulwark of proof made this +skeptic assault endurable. "Her husband's name, in +the first place, is not <i>simply</i> Diggs; it's <i>Manhattan</i> +Diggs." She made this announcement with an air +of tranquil triumph; but Hollister at once gave another +irreverent laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course!" he cried. "I remember, now. +I know him. That is, I nod to him on the street, +now and then. Is <i>he</i> here? Why, he's nearly always +tipsy, you know."</p> + +<p>"Tipsy!" repeated Claire, rising with an incredulous +look. "Oh, Herbert, you must be mistaken. +She worships him. She says that he treats her +charmingly, and that they get on together with perfect +accord."</p> + +<p>"It would be rather strange to find two of that +name even in such a great place as New York," said +Hollister, with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "I +don't believe I am mistaken a bit, Claire. He's a +tall man, with fat yellow side-whiskers and a face +as red as your roses. He's got a lot of money, I'm +told. He goes down into the street, and dawdles an +hour or so a day at his broker's. But I've never +seen him thoroughly sober yet. Upon my word, I +haven't."</p> + +<p>Claire soon met the husband of Mrs. Diggs. It +was after dinner, in one of the spacious, modern-appointed +sitting-rooms, now so often half-vacant of occupants, +or sometimes wholly vacant, through these +lengthened September evenings.</p> + +<p>"I want to present my husband," said Mrs. Diggs, +preceding a tall man with fat yellow side-whiskers, +whom Hollister had before this recognized across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +dining-room as his own particular, chronically tipsy +Mr. Diggs, beyond all possibility of mistake.</p> + +<p>Claire had a little chat with Mr. Diggs, while +Hollister, who had claimed acquaintance and shaken +hands with him, seated himself at the side of his +volatile spouse.</p> + +<p>Claire soon became bored. Mr. Diggs was plainly +tipsy; Herbert had been right. But he was most +uninterestingly tipsy. He had sense enough remaining +to conduct himself with a sort of haphazard propriety. +He incessantly stroked either one or the +other whisker, and kept up a perpetual covert struggle +not to appear incoherent. He was at times considerably +incoherent; a few of his sentences made +the nominative seem as if it were swaggering toward +its verb. But he was vastly polite. He told Claire +that his wife had fallen in love with her. A little +later, however, he spoke of his wife with a certain +jolly disparagement.</p> + +<p>"Kate is full of a lot of new things. I don't +know what I'm going to do with her—really, I +don't. She'll be a regular free-thinker before I +know it. And I don't like free-thinkers; I think +they're a sad lot. Now, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Claire gave short, evasive answers to these and a +number of similar appeals. Mr. Diggs distressed +her; he was not at all the sort of person whom she +desired to meet. She soon made herself so intentionally +<i>distraite</i> that he rose and told her he was going +to smoke a cigar, which he would bring into the sitting-room +after he had obtained it, provided she did +not object. She professed herself wholly sympathetic +with this arrangement, and tried not to let her +lip curl as she watched the unsteady pace of its proposer +across the long sitting-room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> + +<p>But he had scarcely retired before Mrs. Diggs +broke off her converse with Hollister and exclaimed +to Claire:—</p> + +<p>"Where on earth has dear Manhattan gone? You +don't mean that he has left you? How shameful of +him!"</p> + +<p>"I believe he has gone to get a cigar," Claire +said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a cigar," retorted Mrs. Diggs. "Yes, poor +Manhattan is an inveterate smoker." She now +looked at Hollister and Claire equally, with quick, +alternate movements of the head. "I feel sure that +tobacco is beginning to injure him, though it is really +a very small kind of vice, don't you know? It saves +a man from other worse ones. Manhattan, dear boy, +smokes a good deal, and I suppose I should be grateful +it's only that. I hear such dreadful tales from +my friends about their husbands <i>drinking</i>. I don't +know what I should do if dear Manhattan <i>drank</i>. +I'm so glad he doesn't. If he did, I—well, I actually +believe I should get a divorce!"</p> + +<p>Claire felt that her husband's eye, full of merry +furtive twinkles, had fixed itself upon her all through +this unexpected speech. But she kept her face from +the least mirthful betrayal. Mr. Diggs did not come +back with his cigar.</p> + +<p>Claire now wondered, as she watched her new +friend, and entered into conversation with her, +whether this unconsciousness of her husband's continual +excesses could be real and not feigned. It +was hard to suppose that so much shrewd observation +and so cunning a recognition of human foibles +and follies could by any chance consort with the +obtuse lack of perception which her late comments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +had implied. And yet Claire somehow became conscious +that Mrs. Diggs had really meant it all. The +anomaly was hard to credit; it was one of those absurd +contradictions with which human nature often +loves to bewilder us; and yet its element of preposterous +self-delusion held at least the merit of being +genuine.</p> + +<p>Claire had reached a distinct conclusion to this +effect, when Mrs. Van Horn, entering the room, +paused and looked all about her. There were several +other groups scattered here and there, but the +lady presently fixed her gaze upon that small one +of which Mrs. Diggs was a unit. And very soon +afterward she began to move in the direction of her +cousin.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs was so seated that she could plainly +note the approach. She half-turned toward Claire, +and said in rapid undertone, seeming only to speak +with the extreme edges of her lips:—</p> + +<p>"Can I actually trust my senses? Is it fact or +hallucination? Cornelia is coming this way. I +told you she wanted to know you, but I didn't +dream that she would condescend to seek anybody, +like this, short of a queen, or, at the lowest, a duchess.... +Yes, here she comes; there's no mistake."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs quitted her chair, a little later. She +took a few steps toward her cousin, meeting her. +Hollister also rose; Claire, naturally, did not rise.</p> + +<p>"I want to present Mrs. Hollister," said Mrs. +Diggs, after a few seconds of low-toned converse with +the new-comer. "My cousin, Mrs. Van Horn," she +at once added, completing the introduction. It was +then Claire's turn to rise also, which she did.</p> + +<p>"I think you know my brother," said Mrs. Van<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +Horn to Claire, when all were again seated. "I +mean Mr. Beverley Thurston."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Claire.</p> + +<p>Her monosyllables were quite intentional. She +had not liked the lady's manner. There had been +a remote, superb chill about it. She was distinctly +conscious of being descended to, as though from an +invisible stair. The nearer view that she had gained +of Beverley Thurston's sister made her sensible of a +new and original personality. Mrs. Van Horn was +so blonde, so superfine, so rarely and choicely feminine. +Her warmth was so faint and her coolness so +moderated. She was like a rose that had in some +way blent itself with an icicle, the shape of the flower +remaining, and its flush taking a hue that had the +tint of life yet the pallor of frost.</p> + +<p>Claire determined not to speak again unless Mrs. +Van Horn addressed her. This event soon occurred. +Hollister and Mrs. Diggs had fallen into conversation. +Mrs. Van Horn surveyed them, with her nose +a little in the air, and her eyelids a little drooped. +She seemed on the point of interrupting their talk, +and of ignoring Claire, who had leaned back with a +nice semblance of entire unconcern. In a few moments, +however, this mode of treatment underwent +change.</p> + +<p>"I have heard my brother speak of you," she said, +fixing her light-blue eyes full on Claire's face. "It +was before you were married, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Claire. "We were very good +friends. I missed him after he had gone."</p> + +<p>"He went suddenly," said Mrs. Van Horn.</p> + +<p>"Very suddenly," responded Claire, with a smile +as complaisant as it was inscrutable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn looked downward; she appeared to +be examining one or two of her rings; they were not +numerous, though each of them had an odd individuality +of prettiness. "There seemed to be no good +reason why he should go," she soon said, lifting her +eyes again. "He has been there so often."</p> + +<p>"I should think it would be hard to go too often," +said Claire.</p> + +<p>"You have been, then?"</p> + +<p>"No. But I wish to go very much.... Not yet, +however."</p> + +<p>"Not yet?" repeated the lady. Claire could not +accuse her of staring, in any downright way, but she +had an impression that every least detail of her own +dress or person was receiving the most critical regard. +"I suppose your husband's affairs detain him here, +for the present."</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned Claire, but at the same time she +shook her head negatively. "It isn't that, however. +I mean it would not be only that. There is something +for me to see, to know, to do, here. I haven't +finished with my own country yet," she proceeded, +giving a bright smile. "I am not yet ready for Europe."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn laughed. But it was not a laugh +with any amusement in it, neither was it one that +contained any irony. "My brother thought you very +clever," she said. "He told me so repeatedly."</p> + +<p>"That was kind of him," Claire answered. She +did not decide that Mrs. Van Horn was patronizing +her; she decided, on the contrary, that the sister of +Thurston was trying to make her disinclination to +patronize most plainly apparent. "It is pleasant +to hear that he thinks well of me," Claire went on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +"He is a man whose good opinion I shall always +highly value."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn leaned forward. She was smiling, +now, but it struck Claire that her smile was at best +a chilly artifice. "You did not show much regard +for his good opinion in one instance," she said, lowering +her voice so that Claire just caught it, and no +more. "I mean when he asked you to marry him. +You see, I know all about that. He told me. It +sent him to Europe."</p> + +<p>This was, of course, a bombshell to Claire. But +even while the color was getting up into her cheeks +with no weak flood, she realized that it had been +meant for a bombshell, and made swift resolve that +its explosion should not deal death to her self-command.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that he told you," she rather promptly +managed to say. "I have kept it a secret from +everybody. I thought he would do the same."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has no secrets from me," returned Mrs. +Van Horn, with what seemed to Claire an extraordinary +brightness of tone. The speaker immediately +drew out a little jeweled watch and looked at the +hour. "It is later than I thought," she now said. +"I have two letters to write; I must be going upstairs. +Pray come and see me, Mrs. Hollister, when +you are back in town," she continued, while putting +her watch away again, and calling Claire by her +name for the first time since they had met. "Mrs. +Diggs will tell you my address. Promise me that +you will not forget to come. I leave rather early to-morrow, +and may not have a chance of repeating my +request." Here she rose and put out her hand. Claire +took it, but said nothing. She had lost her self-com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>mand, +after all; she was almost too embarrassed to +utter a word. Mrs. Van Horn had nearly gained +one of the doors of the great room before Claire realized +what had taken place. A certain splendor of +courtesy enveloped the whole departure. It was admirably +conducted, notwithstanding its abruptness. +It was one of the things that Mrs. Van Horn always +did surprisingly well; she could enter or retire from +a room with an effect quite her own in its supple +graciousness and dignity. But Claire soon felt that +both the graciousness and dignity had something +mystic about them. It was somehow as if an oracle +had pronounced something very oracular indeed. +The civility of the invitation had been so totally unforeseen, +and it had followed with so keen a suddenness +the recent bewildering revelation, that Claire did +not know how to explain the whole proceeding, to +construe it, to read between its lines.</p> + +<p>Hollister, who had received a brief, polite bow of +adieu, and risen as he returned it, broke the ensuing +silence.</p> + +<p>"Didn't she go away quite in a hurry?" he asked. +"I hope you haven't offended her," he added, jocosely, +to his wife.</p> + +<p>"Cornelia didn't look a bit offended," said Mrs. +Diggs, regarding Claire, or rather her continued +blush. "But that means nothing. You didn't +quarrel, now, did you, Mrs. Hollister?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Claire, still dazed and demoralized. +"She asked me to visit her in town; she was very +urgent that I should do so."</p> + +<p>"You don't really tell me such a thing!" exclaimed +Mrs. Diggs. "You've no idea how prodigious an +honor she was conferring. It's like decorating you +with the order of St. Something—actually it is."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I failed to value it in that way," replied +Claire, who was recovering herself.</p> + +<p>"Of course you did. You haven't yet taken in +the full enormity of Cornelia's importance. You +can't do it until you see her surrounded by her own +proper atmosphere—with her foot on her native +heath, so to speak. Then you'll understand the +massive <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'condecension'">condescension</ins> of to-night."</p> + +<p>"I think I would just as lief not understand it," +laughed Hollister, with his characteristic play of gentle +humor. "It doesn't repay you to climb these +<i>very</i> big mountains. Everybody says that there's +very little to see after you've got to the tops of +them."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs echoed his laugh. She was looking at +Claire, however, with her bright, black, restless eyes. +"I think your wife may want to climb," she said. +"I'll be her guide, if she'll let me. There's a very +good view from the summit of cousin Cornelia. You +can look down on a lot of smaller peaks."</p> + +<p>Claire shook her head. She had got her natural +color again, but not her natural manner; she spoke +in a tone of preoccupied seriousness that did not +harmonize with her light words.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like to fall down one of her glaciers +and be lost," she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no fear of that," cried Mrs. Diggs. +"You're too sure-footed."</p> + +<p>Somewhat later that evening, when they were +alone together, Hollister asked his wife:</p> + +<p>"Did that Mrs. Van Horn say anything that hurt +you, Claire?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. What made you think so, Herbert?"</p> + +<p>"I.... Well, perhaps I only fancied it.... You +had known her brother, hadn't you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. He was a good deal at the Bergemanns' +last Spring. He went to Europe afterward. I suppose +that was why she wanted to know me better."</p> + +<p>Claire said this with a fine composure. She was +standing before her dressing-table, disengaging the +roses from her breast. Hollister stole up behind her +and clasped her in his arms, setting his face close beside +hers, and looking with a full smile at their twin +reflection, which the mirror now gave to both.</p> + +<p>"So you've got among the great people at last, +little struggler," he said; "you've begun to be a +great person yourself." He kissed her on the temple, +still keeping his arms about her. "I suppose you'll +make quick work of it now. I'm glad, for your sake—you +know I am! You're bound to succeed. I +shall be awfully proud of you."</p> + +<p>This seemed quite in the proper order of things to +Claire. Her husband's approval was a matter-of-course; +it was like the roses he gave her every day—like +the kiss, the embrace, the loving devotion that +had each grown accepted synonyms of Herbert himself. +She forgot the words and the caress with careless +promptitude. But she did not forget what Mrs. +Van Horn had said to her, downstairs in the great +sitting-room. Her sleep that night was perturbed by +the memory of it. "Does that woman like me, or +does she hate me?" repeatedly passed through her +mind, in the intervals between sleeping and waking. +"Does she feel that she owes me a grudge, and long +to pay it? Is she angry that I refused her brother? +How strange it would be if I should find myself face +to face with some hard, bitter enmity just at the +threshold of the new life I want to live."</p> + +<p>But the bright morning dissipated these brooding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +fears. It was a very bright morning, and an unexpectedly +cold one. The sea sparkled with the vivid +brilliance of real autumn as Claire looked at it from +her window on rising, and every trace of its former +lazy mist had left the silvery crystal blue of the over-arching +sky. A sharp barometric change had occurred +during the night. Claire and Hollister effected +their toilets with numb fingers and not a few audible +shivers. The flimsy architecture of the huge hotel, +reared to court coolness rather than to resist cold, +had suddenly become an abode of aguish discomfort.</p> + +<p>Its occupants fled, that day, in startled scores. +Mrs. Diggs was among the earlier departures. She +bade farewell to Claire, wrapped in a formidably +wintry mantle. Her leave-taking was warm enough, +though her teeth almost seemed to chatter while she +gave it. Her husband was at her side, looking as +though the altered weather had incited him to even +a more bacchanal disregard of his complexion than +usual. The chubby-cheeked little girl, her French +<i>bonne</i>, and the maid of Mrs. Diggs, were also near at +hand. They were all five on the piazza, where Hollister +and Claire had also gone, both careless, in their +youthful health and vigor, of the rushing ocean wind +that blew out into straight lines every shred of raiment +that it could seize. Little Louise was whimpering +and contumacious; she wanted to break away +from Aline, and pulled against the latter's tense +clasp of her hand as if the wind and she were in +some hoydenish, fly-away plot together. An admonitory +stroke of bells had just sounded from the near +dépôt; the train would soon glide off from the big +wooden platform beyond. Mrs. Diggs was in a +flurry, like the weather; her great wrap could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +warm her; she looked more chalky of hue than ever, +and the bluish line at her lips had grown purplish. +But a defective circulation had not chilled her spirits; +she was alive with her wonted vivacity.</p> + +<p>She had caught Claire's hand, while turning at +very brief intervals toward Aline and the child. Her +sentences had become spasmodic, polyglot, and parenthetical; +they were half addressed to Claire and half +to the recalcitrant Louise.</p> + +<p>"Now you <i>won't</i> forget just where you're to find +me, will you, my dear Mrs. Hollister?... <i>Sois +bonne fille, Louise; nous allons à New York <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'toute'">tout</ins> de suite</i>.... I want so much to see you as soon as you +can manage to come. Did you ever know anything +like this dreadful gale? I'm so cold that I believe +it will take a good month to warm me.... <i>Tais-toi, +chérie, tu vas à New York, où il ne fait pas froid du +tout</i>.... You're going this afternoon, you say? I +don't see how you can wait. There's cousin Jane +Van Corlear just going inside—I promised to go +along with her. Say good-by, Manhattan; the cold +weather has made you as red as a turkey-cock, hasn't +it, dear boy?... <i>Aline, prenez garde! Elle est bien +méchante, elle veut <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'd'être'">être</ins> <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'absollument'">absolument</ins> perdue</i>.... +Well, good-by, both of you. I do hope you won't +freeze before you get off!"</p> + +<p>When the Diggs family had disappeared, Claire +and her husband went and finished their packing. +That afternoon they left the deserted hotel, reaching +New York at about dusk. They had themselves +driven to the Everett House; Hollister had occasionally +lodged there in bachelor days, and proposed it +as a temporary place of sojourn.</p> + +<p>It proved less temporary than they had expected.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +Apartments were easy and yet hard to procure. A +good many sumptuous suites, in haughty and handsome +buildings, were offered them at depressing +prices. They found other suites, in buildings far less +grand, which pleased them less and suited their purse +better, but still left a certain margin as regarded +proposed rental expenditure. Five or six days were +consumed in these monotonous modes of search. +They could obtain lodgment that was too dear, and +lodgment that was too cheap; but they could not hit +the golden mean of adaptability which would combine +delectable quarters with moderate rates.</p> + +<p>"It is tiresome work," Claire at length said, "and +it is keeping you from your business, Herbert, in a +most shameful way. I really don't see what we are +to do."</p> + +<p>"The apartments in West Thirty-Sixth Street, +that we saw yesterday," ventured Hollister, genially, +"were rather nice, though small, of course."</p> + +<p>"Quite too small," affirmed Claire. "Besides, the +house itself had a dingy air. It looked so—so economical, +Herbert. We don't want to look economical; +we want only to <i>be</i> it."</p> + +<p>Hollister made a blithe grimace. "I am afraid +that to be it and to look it are inseparable," he said. +"The grain of the rind tells the quality of the fruit." +He put his head a little sideways and glanced at +his wife with a quizzical eye. "Now, in the way of +downright bargains, Claire," he went on, "there is +that nice basement house which is for rent entire in +Twenty-Eighth Street. The one we drifted into by +mistake during our wanderings of yesterday, you remember."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather not think of it," said Claire, with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +sort of musing demureness. "I liked it very much. +I don't believe there is a furnished house to rent in +the whole city that could be had for the same terms. +But you know very well that we could not afford to +take it, with the need of at least three servants, apart +from other expenses."</p> + +<p>"True," said Hollister. "That is, unless I get +along better—make a hit on the street, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Claire, "there is no use in depending +upon chance. Of course," she added, slowly, +with a grave, affirmative motion of the head, "I +should like very much to have the house. You know +I should."</p> + +<p>"Then, we'll rent it," Hollister struck in, swiftly +and with fervor. "It won't be much of a risk, but +we'll take what risk there is. The first quarter's +rent would be absolutely sure, Claire. Are you +agreed?"</p> + +<p>He spoke entirely from his loving perception of +how much she would like to reign as the ruler of her +own establishment. It thrilled him to think of her +in this proper, sovereign sort of character.</p> + +<p>"It will not be right, Herbert," Claire said. "We +made up our minds to spend just so much and no +more." ...</p> + +<p>But her tones lacked all imperative disapproval. +Perhaps she was thinking how pleasant it would be +for Mrs. Diggs to find her handsomely installed as +the mistress of her own private dwelling.</p> + +<p>On the following day Hollister rented the little +basement house in Twenty-Eighth Street. Claire +accompanied him while he did so. She was frightened +when the terms asked were finally accepted. +She was still more frightened when she thought of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +the steady, draining expenses which must follow. +But, after all, her alarm only acted as a sort of undercurrent. +Above it was the large, delightful satisfaction +of foreseeing herself the reigning head of a +distinct establishment. It was an extremely pretty +house, no less outside than inside. The occupation +by its new tenants had been arranged as immediate, +and this notable event soon occurred. Claire went +herself to hire the three servants. She found a great +supply at a certain dépôt for this sort of demand. +She engaged three whom she liked the most, or +rather disliked the least. And very soon she and +her husband quitted their hotel for good. They became +the co-proprietors of the basement house in +Twenty-Eighth Street.</p> + +<p>Certain new tasks occupied Claire. She quickly +performed them. Her administrative faculty now +showed itself in clear and striking relief. Her penurious +past had taught her unforgotten lessons; she +went into her new place with none of a neophyte's +unskilled rawness; her fund of domestic, of managerial +experience was like an unused yet efficient well; +she had only to give a turn of the hand and up came +the buckets, moistly and practically laden. True, +she worked under the most altered conditions; she +was no longer a drudge but a supervisor; and yet +the very grimness of that early apprenticeship had +held in it a radical value of instruction. She who +had known of the prices paid for inferior household +goods, could use her knowledge now to fine profit in +the purchase of better ones. Having swept with her +own toil floors that were clad coarsely, she could in +readier way discern uncleanly neglect on the part of +underlings who swept floors clad with velvet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her responsibility was borne with great lightness. +"I think I am a sort of natural housekeeper," she +soon told her husband. "It all comes very easy. I +find that my daily leisure is increasing at a rapid +rate." She directed with so much system, discipline, +and keen-sightedness, that speed was a natural result. +Her detection of negligence and fraud was +prompt and thorough. She discouraged the least familiarity +in her servants. On this point she was +severely sensitive; she maintained her dignity in all +intercourse with them, and sometimes it was a dignity +so positive and accentuated that it blent with +her personal beauty in giving the effect of a picturesque +sternness. The secret of its exercise lay +wholly in her former life. She had once been socially +low enough for these very employees to have +treated her as an equal. All that was dead and in +its grave. She wanted to keep it there forever. Instinctively +she stamped down the sods, and even held +a vigilant foot upon them.</p> + +<p>She was soon prepared to seek out Mrs. Diggs and +pay her a long, intimate visit. She found her new +friend in a small but charming home. The drawing-room +into which she was shown displayed a great +deal of good taste, and yet it had not a touch of +needless grandeur. Its least detail, from the cushion +of a sofa to the panel of a screen, suggested permanent +and sensible usage. It was a room that shocked +you with no inelegance, while it invited you by a +sort of generally sympathetic upholstery and appointment.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs was delighted to hear of the new +Twenty-Eighth Street residence. She took Claire's +gloved hand in both of her slim, bony ones, and proffered +the most effusive congratulations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's so much nicer, don't you know, to be a real +<i>châtelaine</i>, like that—to have your own four domiciliary +walls, and not live in a honeycomb fashion, +like a bee in its cell, with Heaven knows how many +other bees buzzing all about you. I'm inexpressibly +glad you've done it. Now you are <i>lancée</i>, don't you +know? You can entertain people. And I'm sure, +my dear, that you do want to entertain people."</p> + +<p>Claire gave a pretty little trill of a laugh. "I +have no people to entertain, yet," she said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs was still holding her hand. "Oh, you +sly mouse!" she exclaimed. "You've got great +ideas in your head for the coming winter. Don't +tell me you haven't. Remember our talks at Coney +Island. And you're going straight for the big game. +You're not of the sort that will be content with a +small, low place. Not you! You want a large and +a high one. It's going to be a great fight. Now, +don't say it isn't. I know all about you. I dote on +you, and I know all about you. You intend to try +and be a leader. You've got it in you to be one, +too. I believe you'll succeed—I do, honestly! I'll +put my money on you, as that dear Manhattan of +mine would say of a horse.... You're not annoyed +at me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," smiled Claire. "But everything +must have a beginning, you know. And I have no +beginning, as yet. I have only met yourself and" +... She paused, then, looking a little serious.</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Diggs dropped Claire's hand, and burst +into a loud, hilarious laugh. Her mirth quite convulsed +her for several seconds.</p> + +<p>"Cornelia Van Horn!" she presently shouted in +a riotously gleeful way. "Myself and Cornelia Van<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +Horn! That is what you mean. Isn't it, now? +<i>Isn't</i> it?"</p> + +<p>She was looking at Claire with both hands in her +lap and her angular body bent oddly forward. She +gave the idea of a humorous human interrogation-mark.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," said Claire, soberly, and a little offendedly; +"I do mean that. Pray what is there so +funny about it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs again became convulsed with laughter: +"Funny!" she at length managed to say. +"Why, it's magnificent! It's delicious! You're +going to tilt against Cornelia! Of course you are! +You don't know a soul yet; you're quite obscure; +but you have a sublime self-confidence. That is always +the armor-bearer of genius; it carries the spear +and shield of the conqueror. My dear, I always +wanted to have somebody beard Cornelia in her den, +don't you know, like the Douglas! I'm with you—don't +forget that! I'll help you all I can. And +when you've shaken the pillars of New York society +to their foundations, please be grateful and recollect +that I set you up to it."</p> + +<p>She threw back her head and laughed again, in her +boisterous, vehement, but never ill-bred way.</p> + +<p>Claire sat and watched her. She was not even +smiling now; she was biting her lip. She had concluded, +some time ago, that she understood Mrs. +Diggs perfectly. But she did not know, at present, +in what spirit to take this noisy paroxysm. Was it +sincere, amicable amusement, or was it pitiless and +impudent mockery?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">But</span> Claire's doubts were soon settled. If that +visit did not precisely end them, a few succeeding +days forever laid the ghost of her spleen. Mrs. +Diggs had been jocundly candid, and that was all. +No baleful sarcasms had pulsed beneath her vivacious +prophecies. She soon convinced Claire that +she was a stanch and loyal confederate.</p> + +<p>She often dropped into the Twenty-Eighth Street +house, and praised its appointments warmly. "Your +little reception-room is perfect," she told Claire, +"with those dark crimson walls and that furniture +so covered with big pink roses. I like it immensely, +don't you know? I wouldn't have liked it two or +three years ago; I would have thought crimson and +pink a weird discord; but fashion gives certain +things their stamp; it makes us wake up, some +morning, and find our hates turned to loves." About +the dining-room, on the same floor, and the drawing-room, +on the floor above, she was genially critical. +This or that detail she discovered to be "not just +quite right, don't you know?" and Claire in nearly +all such cases changed dissent into agreement after +a little serious reflection. Some of the resultant +alterations involved decided expense. This Claire +regretted while she would let her husband incur it. +Hollister always did so readily enough. Wall Street<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +had rather smiled upon him, of late. A few of his +ventures had become bolder, but flattering successes +had persistently followed them.</p> + +<p>"The theatre is all lit," he said to her one evening, +"but the curtain doesn't rise. How is that, Claire?"</p> + +<p>She knew perfectly well what he meant, but chose +to feign that she did not know. They had been +surveying together a few decorative improvements, +recently wrought, in mantel, dado, or even table-cover.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I follow your metaphor," said +Claire. There was the tiny outbreak of a smile at +each corner of her mouth. It struck Hollister, who +was standing quite near her, that she looked delightfully +prim. He kissed her before he answered, and +then, while he did so, let his lips almost graze her +ear, saying in an absurd guttural semitone, as of +melo-dramatic confidence:—</p> + +<p>"I mean that it's time for Act First. Time for +the lords and ladies to enter, with a grand flourish of +trumpets. Of course, when they do come, they'll +all kiss the hand of their charming hostess, just like +this."</p> + +<p>But she would not let him kiss her hand, though +he caught it and made the attempt.</p> + +<p>"There are no lords and ladies in New York," she +said, laughing and receding from him at the same +time. "And if they <i>should</i> come, they would never +behave in such an old-fashioned style as that."</p> + +<p>But though she treated them lightly, his words fed +the fuel of her deep, keen longing. She had made +up her mind that Mrs. Diggs had been right. She +would never be content to take a low place. Nothing +save the highest of all would ever satisfy her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the same time she clearly understood that great +sums of money were needed to accomplish any such +end. She spent several days of brooding trouble. +She had not great sums of money—or rather, Hollister +had not. And there seemed slight chance of +her husband ever securing them.</p> + +<p>"The season is dreadfully young yet," said Mrs. +Diggs to her, the next day, while they sat together. +"There is simply nothing going on. There are no +teas, no receptions, and, of course, no balls. But +we'll go and take our drive in the Park. Do hurry +and dress."</p> + +<p>Claire dressed, but not very quickly. She kept +Mrs. Diggs waiting at least fifteen minutes. Mrs. +Diggs's carriage was also waiting. It was not at all +like its owner, this carriage. It was burly and somewhat +cumbrous. The silver-harnessed horses that +drew it had clipped tails and huge auburn bodies. +But the wheels of the vehicle were touched here and +there with a tasteful dash of scarlet, as if in pretty +chromatic tribute to the violent complexion of "dear +Manhattan." When they were being rolled side by +side together in this easy-cushioned carriage, Mrs. +Diggs said to Claire:—</p> + +<p>"You kept me waiting a little eternity. I hate to +wait. I suppose it's because I'm so nervous. I've +been to three or four different doctors about my +nervousness. They nearly all say it's a kind of dyspepsia. +But that seems to me so ridiculous. Dyspepsia +means indigestion, and I can digest a pair of +tongs—no matter at what hour I should eat it. My +dear Claire" (she had got to use this familiar address, +of late), "I don't see how you can get on without +a maid. That is why you're so slow with your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +bonnet and wraps; be sure it is. Oh, a maid is a +wonderful comfort."</p> + +<p>"So is a carriage like this," said Claire, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a carriage is indispensable, too. At least I +find it so. You will also, my dear, when you come +to pay visits among a large circle of friends."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that both the maid and the carriage +will be out of my reach for a very long time yet," +said Claire. "Our taking the house, you know, was +a great act of extravagance."</p> + +<p>"Oh, your husband is doing finely in Wall Street. +I have heard from Manhattan about his brilliant +strokes. Manhattan thinks him intensely clever. +His success is creating a good deal of talk, I assure +you."</p> + +<p>This was true. Hollister would now often laugh +and say: "The luck seems to be all on my side, +Claire. And I don't take any very fearful risks, +either, somehow. The money isn't coming in by +hundreds, at present; it is coming in by thousands. +I'm getting to be a rather important fellow; upon +my word, I am. My own dawning prominence +amuses me considerably. But it isn't turning my +head the least in the world. A lot of the big men +down there are taking me up. A month ago they +scarcely knew if I existed."</p> + +<p>Then he and Claire would talk together of the real +speculative reasons for his success; he would find +that she had forgotten hardly an item of past information; +her judgments and decisions were sometimes +so shrewd that they startled him, considering how +purely they were based upon theory and hearsay. +Once or twice he permitted her counsels to sway +him, though not with her secured sanction. The re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>sult +turned out notably well. He told her what he +had done, and why he had done it, after the triumph +had been achieved. She was by no means flattered +on discovering the faith he had reposed in her. She +even went so far as to markedly chide him for having +reposed it.</p> + +<p>"Remember, Herbert," she said, "that I am of +necessity ignorant regarding these matters, in every +practical sense. All my opinions are quite without +the value of experience. Please never take me for +your guide again. Never sell nor buy a single share +because I venture the expression of an idea on sales +or purchases. I am proud and glad to think myself +the cause of your having made a lucky operation; +that, of course, I need not tell you. But I should +not forgive myself for ever leading you into disaster."</p> + +<p>She reflected, secretly: 'How weak Herbert is! +He is no doubt clear and quick of mind, and he is of +just the light-hearted, easy temperament that has +what he himself calls "nerve on the Street." But +how weak he is in his trust of <i>me</i>! Does not that +show him weak in other ways? Would a man of +strong nature let his fondness ever so betray his prudence? +I must be guarded hereafter in my talks +with him. I really know nothing; I only use his +knowledge to build upon. What he is doing is three +quarters mere hazard, and the rest cleverness. I see +plainly that he has begun a very precarious career. +He may win in it; others have won. He may +win enormously; I am just beginning to accept his +chances of doing so. But there must be no balking +and thwarting on my part. He would ruin himself, +most probably, if I proposed it. He is so weak +where I am concerned! Yes, in all such ways he is +so weak!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> + +<p>She could not dwell upon the fact of this weakness +with any tender feeling. She had grown to accept +his love as something so natural and ordinary that +she could coldly survey as a flaw any point in its devotion +which verged upon indiscreet excess. Just at +this period in her life it sometimes struck her that +she was very cold toward her husband. But no pang +of conscience accompanied the realization. She had +disguised nothing from Herbert. He knew precisely +what she wished to do. He even sympathized with +her aim, and desired to abet it. She could not help +being cold. Besides, he had never offered the faintest +objection to her coldness. He evidently wanted her +to be just as she was. And moreover, she was no +different at this hour, when the possibility of a great +social victory assumed definite outlines—when she +was his wife and the mistress of his household—when +she was sure of sharing his fortunes until death +should end further companionship—than she had +been at the hour when he had first asked her to +marry him. She had a great sense of duty toward +him. She meant to leave no obligation of wifely +fealty unfulfilled. And this determination, flinchlessly +kept, must stand for him in place of passion. +She had no passion to give him. She had given all +that to her dear dead father. If he were alive, now, +and dwelling with her, what joy she would have in +putting her arms about his neck, her lips to his +cheek, and telling him how the hopes whose seed he +had sown long ago might soon ripen into splendid +fruit!</p> + +<p>"You tell me that you have new adherents, new +friends," she soon said to her husband. "If any of +them are people of prominence—of the sort I would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +wish to know—why do you not ask them here, to +our house?"</p> + +<p>"True enough," said Hollister. "That is an idea." +And then, with beaming hesitation, he added: "But +I thought you would not want them without their +wives."</p> + +<p>Claire seemed to meditate, for a slight time. "I +should not want them without their wives," she presently +said, "unless I felt sure that their wives were +the kind of women whom I would be very willing to +have among my acquaintances."</p> + +<p>A few days later Hollister announced to Claire +that he had arranged a dinner at which some four +gentlemen besides himself were to be present. He +had placed the whole affair in the hands of a noted +<i>restaurateur</i>, who assured him that it should be conducted +on the most admirable plan.</p> + +<p>"It was intended as a little surprise for you," he +said. "The men are all of the kind that I am nearly +sure you will approve. I mean they are what is +called "in society." You see, I am getting quite +wise with regard to these matters. A few weeks +have made a world of difference with me. I am +waking up to a sense of who is who. Before, it was +all stupid treadmill sort of work. I cared very little +about associates, connections, influence. I wanted +to make both ends meet, and found the process a +rather dull one. Now I am in a wholly different +frame of mind. I am beginning to amuse myself as +much by the study of men as by the study of stocks. +I have several distinct adherents, several more distinct +supporters, and one or two would-be patrons. +I don't think I was ever unpopular on the Street; I +was simply unimportant. But now that I'm impor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>tant +I have got to be quite popular.... I dare say +the whole thing is attributable to yourself, Claire. +You've pricked me into life. I was torpid till I met +and knew you."</p> + +<p>She was considerably alarmed about the plan of +the dinner-party. She was not at all sure if it would +be in good style for Hollister to give it with herself +as the only lady present. As soon as circumstances +permitted, she hastened to consult with Mrs. Diggs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all right," decided the oracle. "You +are always certain of being correct form if you do +anything like that in company with your husband. +But, my dear Claire, it is too bad that you couldn't +find three more ladies besides yourself and me. You +see, I invite myself provisionally, so to speak. Isn't +it dreadful of me? But then I take such an interest +in you that I want to be present, don't you know, +at the laying of your corner-stone. Manhattan ought +to be asked, too, dear fellow; it's etiquette, don't +you know? But then you need not mind, this once."</p> + +<p>"I wish that I knew three more ladies," said +Claire, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... that would make a dinner of just ten. +A dinner of ten is so charming. Mr. Hollister +wouldn't object, would he?"</p> + +<p>Claire quickly shook her head. "Oh," she said, +"Herbert never objects."</p> + +<p>It was so seriously spoken that Mrs. Diggs broke +into one of her most mutinous laughs. "How delicious!" +she exclaimed. "What a superb conjugal +truth you condense in one demure little epigram!... +Well, if 'Herbert,' as you say, 'never objects,' +there is ... let me see ... there is Cornelia Van +Horn."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Would she come if I asked her?" said Claire.</p> + +<p>"You haven't asked her, so of course you don't +know. Nobody can ever predicate anything about +Cornelia. But considering how grand was her amiability +at Coney Island, I should say that.... Well, +yes, I should say that Cornelia <i>would</i> come." Here +Mrs. Diggs raised one thin finger, and shook it in +smiling admonition. "That is," she added, "if you +call on her, as she requested."</p> + +<p>Claire looked grave. "I will call on her," she at +length said. "I have not felt sure whether I would +or no. I did not like her way of asking me, or her +manner beforehand.... But I will call on her, provided +there are two other ladies." Here she paused +a moment, and then proceeded with decision. "But +of course there are no other two ladies. At least, +not yet."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs's eyes were sparkling most humorously. +"I don't know why it is," she exclaimed, "that you +always entertain me so when you talk of Cousin Cornelia. +There's a latent pugnaciousness in the very +way that you mention her name. It seems to be +fated that you and she shall become dire foes. She's +so big and mighty that I'm always reminded, when +you discuss her, of dauntless little David, with his +sling and stone, marching against the doughty old +giant.... As for our <i>one</i> other lady, Claire, how +about Mrs. Arcularius?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Arcularius? Why, we have quarreled."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. You snubbed her mildly. I don't +doubt that she will come. Women at her time of +life have survived nearly every sentiment except that +of appetite. Ten to one that she will scent the odor +of a good dinner, and come, as your dear former instructress, +and all that, don't you know?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very well," said Claire, with gravity; "I might +ask her. But then there would be the fifth lady. I +am afraid that she is not to be found."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs put one slim hand to one pale temple, +and drooped her bright eyes. "I have it!" she presently +exclaimed. "There is my other cousin, Jane +Van Corlear. We won't ask Jane until we are sure +of the others. Then we shall be certain of getting +her to fill the vacant place. You remember her at +Coney Island, don't you? No? Well, in a certain +sense nobody ever remembers poor Jane, and nobody +ever forgets her. She has been a widow for years, +like Cornelia. But she never asserts herself. She is +tallowy, obese, complaisant. She rarely goes anywhere, +and yet she leaves a sort of aristocratic trail +wherever she has been. She will accept if I tell her +to; she always gives in to me, though in her sluggish +way I know she thinks me objectionable. Poor +Jane is a perfect goose, and yet I dote on her. She +is such a dear, consistent, inoffensive, companionable +goose, don't you know? Claire, your dinner-party +is entirely arranged."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not," said Claire, dubiously.</p> + +<p>The next day she and Mrs. Diggs concocted the +invitations together. On the day following, the two +ladies whom they had asked each sent a courteous, +conventional refusal.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn gave no reason for her refusal. +Mrs. Arcularius mentioned a previous engagement as +the reason of her non-acceptance.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Claire, to her fallacious counselor, +"our ladies are not obtainable, after all."</p> + +<p>She was secretly chagrined; but Mrs. Diggs +showed herself openly so. "It is too bad!" declared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +the latter. "I've a lurking belief in the authenticity +of Mrs. Arcularius's 'previous engagement.' As for +Cornelia, I suspect pique at your not having been to +visit her. But we shall see what we shall see, regarding +Mrs. Van Horn. Of course our little dinner +is ruined. You must preside as the only woman, +Claire, and I don't doubt you will do it charmingly. +But I shall drop in upon Cornelia to-morrow, and try +to sound the unfathomable."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs did so, and on the afternoon of the +same day she sought out Claire, filled with her recent +exploring skirmish.</p> + +<p>"She received me, my dear Claire, with a great +deal of high-nosed graciousness. I hadn't been three +minutes in her presence before I felt that her cold, +serene eyes were reading me through and through. +She mentioned you herself; she made it a point to +do so. She spoke of you as that pretty young woman +whom Beverley used to know. Then she recollected +that you had asked her to dinner. 'But of course I +could not accept,' she said, with her best sort of ducal +look. 'I do not really <i>know</i> your friend. I have +met her only once, and then for a few minutes.' She +wanted to change the conversation, after that; she +has vast tact in the way of changing conversations; +great leaders like herself always have. But I +wouldn't put up with that at all. I am usually a +good deal awed by Cornelia. But I made up my +mind not to be awed to-day at any hazard. I reminded +her that she had sought to know you and +asked you to visit her. I showed her that I wouldn't +stand her delicate rapier-thrusts. I swung a bludgeon, +and I flatter myself that I swung it rather well. +I told her that she had given you a perfect right to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +invite her. I told her that you had treated her with +unusual courtesy, and that instead of leaving a slip of +meaningless pasteboard with her footman, you had +resolved on the more honest and significant civility +of asking her to dinner. Moreover, I added, the fact +of her brother having been your most intimate friend +had rendered, to my thinking, the civility a still more +kindly and genuine one."</p> + +<p>"You must have made her very angry," said +Claire, with a peculiar fleeting smile.</p> + +<p>"Angry? She was in a white heat. She could +never be in a red one, don't you know, she is so constitutionally +placid and chill. She replied that you +had actually attempted to offer her patronage, and +that your effort had amused her not a little."</p> + +<p>"Did she say that?" questioned Claire, with a certain +quick eagerness. "Then I was right at first. +She had some unpleasant purpose in wanting me to +visit her."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Diggs; "you +never suggested such a thing before!"</p> + +<p>Claire had grown very grave and calm again. +"Did I not?" she said. "Well, I had supposed it. +It was a sort of fancy."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs took one of Claire's hands and held it, +at the same time giving her an intent look.</p> + +<p>"You're keeping something from me," she said. +"Yes, Claire, I know you are.... Did Beverley +Thurston ever ask you to marry him?"</p> + +<p>Claire colored to the roots of her rich-tinted tresses. +She tried to draw her hand away, but Mrs. Diggs +still retained it.</p> + +<p>"He did!" exclaimed her friend. "Your complexion +tells me so! Everything is explained now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +You refused Beverley. Yes, my dear, you refused +him. And she somehow got wind of it. Perhaps +Beverley told, or perhaps his complexion, like yours, +divulged secrets, don't you know?... And yet, +on second thought, Beverley's complexion could do +nothing so expressive; it is too battered and world-worn; +its capability for blushing is entirely null.... +No, <i>he</i> told her. And she has not forgiven you, and +never will. Her monstrous pride would not permit +her to do so. I understand everything, now. You +remember what I told you about her clannish feeling—how +she loves to quietly exalt her family name?... +Ah, my dear Claire, you have committed, in her +eyes, the great unpardonable sin. I was right; I felt +it to be in the air that you and she would prove +enemies. I begin to think myself a sort of haphazard +sibyl; I divined what would happen, and it has happened. +You have presumed to refuse her brother, +and Cornelia knows it. Prepare to be crushed."</p> + +<p>Claire lightly tossed her graceful head, and her lip +curled a little as she did so.</p> + +<p>"I am not at all prepared to be crushed," she said. +"Mrs. Van Horn has spoiled our prospective dinner-party, +as regards ladies, but she has not spoiled <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"Delightful!" declared Mrs. Diggs, softly clapping +her hands. "That's the spirit I like to see. +The fight has begun; it's going to be serious. But +remember that I am always your devoted auxiliary!" ...</p> + +<p>The dinner took place. There were no ladies +present except Claire herself. It was an extremely +elegant dinner. Claire rose when coffee was being +served, and left the gentlemen together. She performed, +so to speak, her unaided office of hostess with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +singular charm and dignity. And during the progress +of the dinner she made a friend.</p> + +<p>This was Mr. Stuart Goldwin. Everybody in +Wall Street knew Stuart Goldwin. He had drifted +into that stormy region of risk about four years ago. +He had so drifted from a remote New England town, +and his speculative successes had been phenomenal. +He was reputed to be worth, at present, a good many +millions of dollars. He had acquired an enormous +influence among his constituents; he was the reigning +Wall Street King. But he had none of the vulgarity +which had marked a few of his immediate +predecessors; he had always shown a full appreciation +of his royalty and the duties resultant from it. +He had been admitted, with singular promptness, into +the social holy of holies; he was hand in glove with +what are termed the best people; he belonged to +three or four of the most select clubs; his circle of +acquaintances had rapidly become huge. Women +liked him as much as men. He was personally the +type of man whom women like. His frame was tall +and imposing; he wore a large tawny mustache, +which drooped with silky abundance below a delicately-cut +nostril. His eyes were large, and of a soft, +glistening hazel. His manners were full of a fascinating +frankness. His age was about forty years, but +he might have passed for considerably younger. +Books had not fed his rapid and distinctive intelligence, +for he had no time to read them; and yet he +had caught the reverberation, as it were, of the best +and newest ideas announced by the best and newest +writers.</p> + +<p>Claire thought him delightful. He, in turn, +thought her even more than this. She was a dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>covery +to him. He had never married, and he was +fond of saying, in his blithe, epigrammatic way, that +half womankind was so enchanting to him as to have +made, in his own case, anything except the most +Oriental polygamy quite out of the question. He +had wit in no small store, but when he liked a woman +greatly it was his most deft of arts to keep this in +very judicious reserve, and employ it only as a means +of subtly wooing forth the mental sparkle of her to +whom he paid court.</p> + +<p>Claire found herself vain, in a covert way, of her +own conversational gifts, before she had talked with +Goldwin more than twenty minutes. She would +have liked to talk with him exclusively during the +dinner, but her two other guests were persons of importance +who ought not to receive her impolitic neglect. +She managed matters with tact and skill. +Everybody thought her charming when she glided +from the dining-room, in decorous retreat before that +little anti-feminine bayonet, the after-dinner cigar. +She had made a distinct success. She felt it as she +sat in the drawing-room, waiting for the gentlemen +to ascend and join her.</p> + +<p>Goldwin had not deceived her. She read him with +lucid insight. She saw him to be imposingly superficial; +she perceived him to be a man whose polished +filigrees would ring hollow at so much as one sincere +tap of the finger-nail. He was agreeable to her, but +not admirable; he captivated, but he did not dazzle +her. She compared him with Beverley Thurston +(never thinking to compare him with her husband), +and noted all the more clearly his lack of genuine +and manly magnitude. He came and joined her before +any of the other gentlemen. His face was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +little flushed from the wine he had taken, but with +no unbecoming suggestion of excess.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't stay away from you," he said, sinking +into a happy, half-lounging posture on the sofa at +her side. He was faultlessly dressed, in garments that +seemed to accept every bend of his fine moulded figure +without a wrinkle of their dark, flexible surface. +"Your husband smokes the nicest sort of cigar, but +he has another possession that seems to me vastly +superior." Then he broke into a mellow laugh, and +waved one hand hither and thither, with an air of +mock explanation. "I allude to this beautiful little +drawing-room," he continued.</p> + +<p>His mirthful sidelong look made Claire echo his +laugh. "I will tell Herbert how much you like it," +she said; "he will be so pleased to know."</p> + +<p>"Pray do nothing of the sort!" he expostulated, +with a good deal of comic seriousness. "I should +never forgive you if you did. Husbands are such +oddly jealous fellows. There is no telling what innocent +little outburst of esteem may sometimes offend +them."</p> + +<p>Claire thought the time had come for a decisive +parry, in the parlance of fencers. "Oh, Herbert is +not at all jealous," she said, measuring the words +just enough not to make them seem out of accord +with her bright smile. "He has never had the least +occasion to be, I assure you."</p> + +<p>He fixed his eyes with soft intentness on her +sweet, blooming face. "Never?" he questioned, +quite low of tone.</p> + +<p>"Never," she answered, gently laconic.</p> + +<p>"But he might take some stupid pretext ... who +knows?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, if he did I would soon show him the stupidity +of it. We understand each other excellently."</p> + +<p>They talked on for at least a half hour. The +other gentlemen remained below. Goldwin made +no more daring complimentary hazards. He listened +quite as much as he talked. Their converse turned +upon social matters—upon what sort of a season it +would be—upon the coming opera—upon the nature +of New York entertainments—upon the men +and women who were to give them. Claire made it +very plain to him that she wanted to enter the gay +lists. She at length said:—</p> + +<p>"Do you know Mrs. Van Horn?"</p> + +<p>Goldwin laughed. "Why don't you ask me if I +know the City Hall," he said, "or the Stock Exchange? +Of course I know her."</p> + +<p>"Do you like her?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody ever likes her. Who likes statues?"</p> + +<p>"People sometimes worship them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is a good deal worshiped, if you mean +that."</p> + +<p>Hollister and his two remaining guests now appeared. +Claire re-welcomed both the latter gentlemen +with beaming suavity. They were both important +personages, as it has been recorded. They +both had important wives, to whom they repaired, a +little later, and to whom they loudly sang praises of +Claire's loveliness. The remarks of each took substantially +the same form, and the following might +be given as their connubial and somewhat florid average:—</p> + +<p>"That fellow Hollister's wife, you know. The +man I dined with to-night. Didn't know he had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +wife? Well, you'd have known it if you'd been +there. She's a splendid young creature. Handsome +as a picture, and good style, too. By the way, +Stuart Goldwin was there; you know how hard it is +to get <i>him</i>. I shouldn't wonder if these Hollisters +were going to make a dash for society, soon. Now, +don't repeat it, my dear, but the fact is, this Hollister +can be of considerable service to me in a business +way. There's no use of going into particulars, for +women never understand business. But ... if anything +<i>should</i> occur—any card be left, I mean, you +may be sure what my wishes are.... Oh, of course; +look sour, and refuse point blank. Bless my soul, +when did you ever do anything to help along <i>my</i> +interests? You'll spend the money fast enough, but +you won't turn a hand to help me make it. All +right; do as you please. Hollister is to-day the most +rising young man on the Street. There's a regular +boom on him. He's got Goldwin for a friend. You +must know what <i>that</i> means."</p> + +<p>Both ladies did know what it meant. Both ladies +had looked sour, but both in due time entertained +their afterthoughts. They were ladies of high fashion, +each prominent within an exclusive clique. +They were not powerful enough to indorse any new +struggler for position; their own right of tenure was +not unassailable. They dreaded this Mrs. Hollister, +as it were, but they secretly resolved that it would +be folly to ignore her. Meanwhile a certain interview, +held by Stuart Goldwin with a certain lady +of his acquaintance, was of quite different character. +Goldwin did not reach the house of Mrs. Ridgeway +Lee until some time after ten o'clock. It was an exceedingly +pretty house. Its drawing-room, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +as small as Claire's, must by comparison have put +the latter completely into the shade. It was an +exquisite artistic commingling of all that was rare +and fine in upholstery and general embellishment. +Mrs. Ridgeway Lee, too, was in a manner rare and +fine. She rose from a deep cachemire lounge to +receive Goldwin. She was dressed in crimson, with +a great cluster of white and crimson roses at her +breast. She pretended to be annoyed that he should +have presumed to come so late. She had the last +French novel in her hand, pressed against her heart, +as though she loved its allurements and disliked +being thus drawn from them. Goldwin knew perfectly +well that she had expected him, that she was +very glad he had come. He often wondered to himself +why he did not ask her to be his wife. She was +passionately in love with him; she had been a widow +almost since girlhood. She had a great deal of +money, for which he cared nothing, and a great deal +of beauty, for which he could not help but care. She +had almost seriously compromised herself by permitting +him to show her attentions whose intimacy, in +the judgment of the world, should long ago either +have ceased entirely or else have assumed matrimonial +permanence.</p> + +<p>Yet she was a woman who could, to a certain degree, +compromise herself with impunity. Her connections +were all people of high place. She was distantly +related to Mrs. Diggs and nearly related to Mrs. Van +Horn, who felt toward her that fondness which may +exist between a queen and a lady-in-waiting. Apart +from this, she was a social dignitary. Her artificiality +was more plainly manifest than that of Goldwin, and +it had become a commonplace among her friends to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +say that she was affected. But she had made her affectation +a kind of fashion; other women had so liked +the peculiar flutter of her lids, the drawl of her +voice, the erratic movements and extraordinary poses +of her body, that they had imitated these with disastrous +fidelity. She said clever, daring, insolent, or +amiable things all in the same slow, measured way, +and generally managed to leave an impression that +a fund of unuttered experience or observation lay behind +them. She was prodigiously pious for one of +her pleasure-loving nature. Her charity was liberal +and incessant. She trailed her Parisian robes through +the wards of hospitals, or lifted them in the ill-smelling +haunts of dying paupers. Her religion and her +charity went hand in hand. For some people they +were both shams; for others they were ostentation, +half founded upon sincerity; for others they implied +a feverish craving to drown the remorse born of persistent +indiscretions; and still for others they were +an intoxication, indulged in by one who did nothing +half-way, and resorted to as some women drug themselves +with opium, chloral, or alcohol. She denounced +the new intellectual tendency among social equals +of her own sex, as something wholly terrible; she +frowned upon it no less darkly than her kinswoman, +Mrs. Van Horn, but for a different reason. Its occasional +lapses into rationalistic and unorthodox thought +roused her dismay and ire.</p> + +<p>"Science," she would say, in her grave, loitering +manner, "is perfectly splendid. I adore it. I read +books about it all the time." (There were those +who roundly asserted that she did not know protoplasm +from evolution.) "But this confusing it with +religion is simply blasphemous and awful. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +the profoundest pity for all who do not believe devoutly. +I wish I could build asylums for them, and +visit them, as I do my sick and my poor!"</p> + +<p>Goldwin always listened to these melancholy outbursts +with a twinkling eye. She had long since +ceased to try and convert him to her High Church +ritualisms. He would never go to church with her +and witness, in the edifice which she attended, the +Episcopal ceremonial imitate, as he said, the Roman +Catholic ceremonial just as far as it dared and no +further. But he would never have gone to any +church with her, and she knew it, and mourned him +as ungodly. That was the way, some of her foes asserted, +in which she made love to him: she mourned +him as ungodly.</p> + +<p>But she showed no signs of making love to him to-night. +She received him, as was already stated, with +a shocked air.</p> + +<p>"It is dreadfully late," she said, giving him her +hand. "You ought not to do it. You know that +you ought not to do it."</p> + +<p>He kept her hand until she had again seated herself +on the cachemire lounge. Then he sat down beside +her.</p> + +<p>Her type of beauty had been called that of a serpent. +It was true that her present posture on the +lounge oddly resembled a sort of coil. Her face +wore at nearly all times a warm paleness; its color, +or rather its lack of color, had little variation. Her +hair was black as night; her eyes luminous, large, +and very dark; her head small, her figure lissome and +extremely slender, her shoulders narrow and falling. +She could not be ungraceful, and her grace was always +what in another woman would have been called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +unique awkwardness. She appeared, now, to be gazing +at Goldwin across one shoulder. Her crimson +dress was in a tight whorl about her feet. She had +a twisted look, which in any one else would have suggested +an imperiled anatomy. But you somehow accepted +her at first sight as capable of a picturesque +elasticity denied to commoner <i>physiques</i>.</p> + +<p>"I dropped in only for a minute," said Goldwin. +"I wanted to tell you about the dinner."</p> + +<p>"Well? Was it nice?"</p> + +<p>"Immensely. There was only one woman, but a +marvelous woman. She is Hollister's wife. I feel +as if I'd been hearing a new opera by Gounod. +Don't ask me to describe her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee was watching the speaker's face with +great intentness. It was a face that she knew very +well; she had given it several years of close study.</p> + +<p>"She is handsome, then?"</p> + +<p>"She's exquisite. She is going to take things by +storm this winter. She wants to do it, too. And I +mean to help her."</p> + +<p>"Who was she?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. And I don't care. I'm her devoted +friend. I hope you will be. I want you to +call on her."</p> + +<p>"Are you crazy?" said Mrs. Lee. She said it so +quietly and slowly, as was her wont to say all things, +that she might have been making the most ordinary +of queries.</p> + +<p>"Yes," laughed Goldwin, "quite out of my head."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I will go and see a woman I don't +know, merely because you ask me to do it?"</p> + +<p>He let his eyes dwell steadily upon her pale, small, +piquant face, lifted above the long, rounded throat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +on which sparkled a slim gorget of rubies, to match +her dress.</p> + +<p>"You've done things that I wanted you to do before +now," he said softly. "You'll do this, I am +sure."</p> + +<p>She put one hand on his arm. The hand was so +tiny and white that it seemed to rest there as lightly +as a drifted blossom. "Will you tell me all about +her?" she said, in her measured way.</p> + +<p>"I told you that I couldn't describe her. She's +like flowers that I've seen; she's like music that +I've heard; she is like perfumes that I have smelt. +There's poetry for you. You're fond of poetry, you +say."</p> + +<p>She still kept her hand on his arm. He had very +rarely praised a woman in her hearing. He had +never before praised one in this fashion.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me one thing more?" she said. +"Have you fallen in love with her?"</p> + +<p>Goldwin threw back his head and laughed. "Good +heavens!" he exclaimed, "she is a married woman, +and her husband worships her."</p> + +<p>"Will you answer my question?" persisted Mrs. +Lee.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Goldwin, suddenly jumping up from +the lounge. "She is tremendously fond of her husband. +There ... your question is answered."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Rather</span> early the next morning, Mrs. Diggs +dropped in upon Claire, "to hear all about it," as +she said, alluding to the dinner-party.</p> + +<p>She dismissed two of the gentlemen with two little +contemptuous nods. "They are both well enough in +point of respectability," she affirmed. "So are their +wives. All four are so swathed in dull convention +that you even forget to criticise them; they're like +animals which resemble the haunts they inhabit to +such a degree that you can tell them from the surrounding +foliage or furrows only when they move or +show life. Whom else did you have?"</p> + +<p>"There was Mr. Stuart Goldwin," said Claire.</p> + +<p>"Goldwin? Yon don't mean it, really? <i>Did</i> you +have Goldwin?" Here Mrs. Diggs looked hard at +Claire, and slowly shook her head. "My dear," she +went on, "it must indeed be true that your husband +is achieving great financial distinction. Pardon my +saying it, Claire, but Goldwin wouldn't have put +his limbs under your mahogany if this had not been +true. He's an enormous personage. Other Wall +Street grandees have been very small pygmies in the +social estimate. But Goldwin carries everything before +him. You needn't tell me that you like him. +It would be something abnormal if you didn't. He +is really the most charming of men. You can't trust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +him, don't you know, further than you can see him; +he bristles with all sorts of humbug. And yet you +accept him, because it is such well-bred, engaging +humbug. He has hosts of adherents, and he deserves +them. He gives the most enchanting entertainments. +They are never vulgar, and yet they cost +vast sums. For example, he will give a Delmonico +dinner, at which every lady finds a diamond-studded +locket hid modestly in the heart of her bouquet. I +need not add that in a matrimonial way he is simply +groveled to. But beware of him, my dear Claire; +he is dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Dangerous?" repeated Claire.</p> + +<p>"Well, not so much in himself. Goldwin, in himself, +is a shallow yet clever man, a forcible yet weak +man, a man whose pluck has aided him a good deal, +and whose luck has aided him still more. He has +caught the trick of looking like a prince, and hence +of giving his princely amassment of money a superb +glamour. He will fade, some day, and leave not a +rack behind. Of course he will. They all do. I +don't know that he would if he married. And now +I come to my previous point. He doesn't marry; +therefore, he is dangerous."</p> + +<p>"I don't follow you," Claire said.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't marry Mrs. Ridgeway Lee. That is +what I mean. As it is, she guards his approaches. +She is a woman of high position, considerable queer, +uncanny beauty, monstrous affectation, and a fondness +for <i>him</i> that amounts to idolatry. She's the +most intense of pietists; she riots in all sorts of religious +charities. She has other idolatries besides +Goldwin, but he is her foremost. I have never been +just able to make her out. She is a sort of cousin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +of mine. She's wonderfully handsome, but it's the +lean, cold beauty of a snake. As I said, she guards +Goldwin's approaches. She's a widow, and a rich +one, and she wants Goldwin to ask her to marry him. +He doesn't, however, and hence she coils herself, so +to speak, at the threshold of his acquaintance. If +any other woman draws near—I mean, too near—she +hisses and bites.... Oh, don't look incredulous. +I've known her to positively do both. She'll do it +to you, if Goldwin is too attentive. That is why I +warn you; that is why I call that nice, brilliant, +headlong, gentlemanly Goldwin a dangerous man."</p> + +<p>In a few more days Hollister, of his own accord, +proposed to Claire that she should engage a maid. +He also told her that he had made purchase of two +carriages, a span of horses, and an extra horse for +single harness besides.</p> + +<p>"You will be able to drive out, either in your +coupé or your larger carriage, my dear," he said, "by +Wednesday next." Then he broke into one of his +most genial laughs, and added: "I hope that is not +too long to wait."</p> + +<p>Claire took this prophecy of coming splendor with +serious quietude. She had talked with her husband +regarding his recent plethoric influx of thousands.</p> + +<p>"I've an idea, Herbert," she said, using a slow, +wise-seeming deliberation. "It is this: why do you +not buy our house? We both like it; it is comfortable +and agreeable; it fills all our wants. And it is +for sale, you know."</p> + +<p>Hollister looked grave, then smiled, then affirmatively +nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, Claire," he answered. "I'll do it to-morrow, +if you wish."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I do wish, Herbert. And when you have bought +the house, I want you to put it in my name. I want +you to give it to <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>He started, and stared at her. A gleam of distrust +appeared to slip coldly into his frank eyes. Claire +saw this, but answered his look with firm calm. +"Why do you say that?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>She went nearer to him, and laid one hand on his +shoulder. "Why do I say it?" she softly iterated. +"Because I know something of the risks and perils +you are daily forced to meet."</p> + +<p>He watched her intently and soberly, for a few +seconds, after she had thus spoken. Then his characteristic +smile broke forth like a burst of sun. He +kissed her on the lips. "It shall be just as you say!" +he exclaimed, drawing her nearer to him, with a look +which they of bids and sales and stock-traffic had +never seen on his manly yet winsome face. "You +are right. You are always right, Claire. There's a +lot of money drifting in; it seems as if the money +would never stop drifting in."</p> + +<p>"I hope it never will," said Claire, showing her +pure teeth in a laugh, as he again kissed her. At +the same time she drew back from him while his encircling +arm still retained her, in a way to which +he had grown wholly familiar, and which, in an unwedded +woman, would have readily seemed like the +reserve of absolute maidenhood.</p> + +<p>A slight further lapse of days brought grand results +for Claire. She was legally the owner of the +charming little house in which she dwelt; she had +her maid, obsequiously attendant on her least wants; +she possessed her coupé, drawn by a large, silver-trapped +horse; she possessed, also, a glossy, dark-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>appointed +carriage, drawn by two horses of equally +smart gear, and supervised by coachman and footman +in approved and modish livery.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs was in ecstasies at the prosperous +change. "Now you're indeed <i>lancée</i>, don't you +know?" she said. "By the way, has Cornelia Van +Horn left a card on you, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Claire.</p> + +<p>"Can she really mean open warfare?"</p> + +<p>"Let her wage it," Claire answered. "That is +better than to have it concealed."</p> + +<p>The opera-season began the next evening. Hollister +had engaged a box, permanently. It was a season +that opened with much auspicious brilliancy. Claire +appeared in her first really notable toilette. One of +the reigning <i>modistes</i> had made it, and for the first +time in her life she was called upon to stand the test +of surpassingly beautiful dressing. It is a test that +some very fair women stand ill. They show to best +advantage, in garments which have no atmosphere of +festival; it becomes them to be clad with domesticity +or at least moderation. This was by no means true, +however, of Claire. The diamond necklace which +Hollister had spread on her dressing-table but a few +minutes before the hour of departure glittered round +her smooth, slender neck with telling saliency. Her +gown was of a pale, pink brocaded stuff, and she +carried its full-flowing train with a light-stepping and +perfect repose. Before she had unclasped her cloak +and seated herself in the box at Hollister's side, +numerous lorgnettes were leveled upon the lovely, +dignified picture that she made. When she had +seated herself, the spell continued. The large pink +roses in her bosom were not deep or sweet enough of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +tint to do more than heighten the fresh, chaste flush +in either cheek. She bore herself with a fine and +delicate majesty. Her dark-blue eyes told of the +quicker pulse that stirred her veins only by a more +humid and dreamy sparkle. She was inwardly glad +to be where she sat, and to be robed as she was robed, +but her pleasure softly exulted in its own outward +repression; she was wonderfully self-poised and tranquil, +considering her strong secret excitement. Nearly +everybody who looked upon her pronounced her to be +very beautiful, and a good many people, before an +hour had passed, had looked at her with the closest +kind of scrutiny.</p> + +<p>The opera was a favorite one; a famed and favorite +prima-donna sang in it. Below, where the real +lovers of music mostly thronged, Claire's presence +produced neither comment nor criticism. But up in +the region sacred to fashion, inattention, gossip, and +flirtation, she rapidly became an event which even +the most melodious cavatina was powerless to supersede.</p> + +<p>It was not all done by her beauty and novel charm. +Hollister, sitting at her side, nonchalant, handsome, +of excellent conventional style in garb and posture, +materially helped to increase the notability which +surrounded her. His success had publicly transpired; +a few of those newspapers which are little save glaring +personal placards had of late proclaimed with +graphic zeal his speculative triumphs. He had leapt +into notoriety in a day, almost in an hour. There +was but one man in the house besides her husband +whom Claire knew. This man was Stuart Goldwin, +and he soon dropped into her box, remaining there +through the two final acts. Hollister, meanwhile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +chose to be absent. He had found some friends who +were solicitous of presenting him to certain ladies. +He spent nearly the whole of these two acts in +chatting with these same ladies. They were all +gracious; one or two of them had strong claims to +beauty. It was no less an important evening with +himself than with Claire. Perhaps with him it was +even more so, since he obtained his social acceptance, +as it were, by great dames whom he pleased with his +handsome face, happy manners, and growing repute +as a potential millionaire.</p> + +<p>His wife, on the other hand, had gained a different +victory. She was pronounced to be charming +and remarkable; she had acquired the prestige of +Goldwin's open attentions. But she was a woman, +and she had not yet received the endorsement of her +own sex. It might possibly soon arrive, or it might +be withheld: there was still no actual certainty.</p> + +<p>Claire loved the music, but she would have heard +its cadences in discontent if fate had decreed that she +should sit, this evening, with no attendant devotee. +She knew well that Goldwin's company distinguished +her. Mrs. Diggs had given her points, as the phrase +goes. She was quite aware that the horse-shoe of +boxes in our metropolitan opera-house, and the other +more commodious proscenium boxes which flank its +stage, are at nearly all times occupied by just the +kind of people among whom she wished to win her +coveted lofty place. She understood that they would +note, comment, gauge, admire, or condemn; and +while her manner bespoke a sweet and placid unconsciousness +of their observation, she was alive to the +exact amount of observation which she attracted.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad that you came," Goldwin told her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +"For very selfish reasons, I mean. You appear, and +you corroborate my statements. Now people can at +last see and judge for themselves. The verdict is +sure."</p> + +<p>He said many more things in this vein, all uttered +low, and all accompanied by his smile, that seemed +either to mean volumes or to leave his true meaning +adroitly ambiguous.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ridgeway Lee was in a somewhat near box. +When Goldwin returned to her side, just as the curtain +was falling on the last act, she accepted his escort +to her carriage with a fine composure. He met +Mrs. Van Horn, a little later, in the crush that always +occurs along the Fourteenth Street lobby of our +Academy when a full house disgorges its throng.</p> + +<p>The two ladies talked together. Not far away +from them stood Mrs. Diggs and Claire, each waiting +for an absent husband to secure her carriage.</p> + +<p>"What a contrast there is between them," Claire +murmured to her companion. "One is so blonde and +peaceful, the other so dark and restless."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear Claire. Have you caught Cornelia's +eye?"</p> + +<p>"No. She does not appear to see me."</p> + +<p>"She sees you perfectly. She has not yet made +up her mind just how to act."</p> + +<p>"I think that she means to cut me," said Claire, +under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Never," came the emphatic answer, so bass and +gruff because of its vocal suppression that it produced +odd contrast with Mrs. Diggs's bodily thinness. +"To cut you would be to burn her ships. She has an +object in knowing you. I'm afraid it's a dark one. +But be sure that she is only making up her mind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +just <i>how</i> to know you. She will soon decide; she +has already delayed too long, and she feels it. Be +ready for a prompt change."</p> + +<p>If the behavior of Mrs. Van Horn was really to be +explained on the theory of her prophetic cousin, then +she made up her mind very soon after the delivery +of these oracular sentences. A chance turn of the +neck seemed to render her conscious of Claire's neighboring +presence. She bowed with soft decision the +instant that their eyes met; and Claire returned the +bow.</p> + +<p>The next instant she laid one gloved hand on the +arm of Mrs. Ridgeway Lee, and then both ladies +moved in Claire's direction. Their progress was of +necessity made between the forms of several assembled +ladies, who nodded and smiled as the great personage +and her companion pushed courteously past +them. They were mostly the loyal adherents of Mrs. +Van Horn, in the sense that they held it high honor +to have the right of occasionally darkening her Washington +Square doorway. Two or three of them were +perhaps co-regents with her as regarded caste and +power.</p> + +<p>They all saw and intently watched the little astonishing +action that now followed. Mrs. Van Horn +glided up to Claire and extended her hand.</p> + +<p>"I was so very sorry to have missed your dinner, +Mrs. Hollister," said the great lady, with her best +affability, "but another engagement forced me to +be absent." She again put her hand on the arm of +Mrs. Ridgeway Lee; she had thus far wholly ignored +Mrs. Diggs; her nose was well in the air, as usual, +but her smile was bland, conciliatory, impressive; +she glowed with an august amiability.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want you to let me present my cousin, Mrs. +Lee," she proceeded. "We have both heard so +much about you, of late, from Mr. Goldwin. You +can't think how devoted a friend you have suddenly +made."</p> + +<p>Before Claire could answer, Mrs. Lee spoke. She +had got herself into her usual extraordinary twist. +Her visage, her hands, and her lower limbs, regarded +according to their relative disposements, would have +made a very sinuous line. Like Mrs. Van Horn, she +was wrapped in an opera cloak. But her dark little +head rose from the large circlet of swansdown about +her slight throat with an effect not unlike the slim +crest of a turtle stealing from its shell. She constantly +suggested a creature of this lean and chill +type, though rarely with any of its repulsive traits.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes!" she softly exclaimed to Claire. +"Mr. Goldwin is a great friend of mine, and he has +told me hundreds of charming things about you."</p> + +<p>"Our acquaintance has been a very short one," +said Claire, looking at Mrs. Diggs. In a certain +way, she sought to gain a kind of tacit cue from the +latter's face. She failed to perceive just how matters +were drifting. Was this patronage on the part of +both ladies? Or was it meant for irreproachable +courtesy?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs gave a laugh. "Goldwin can say a +hundred charming things very easily on a brief acquaintance," +she declared. "Can't you?" were her +next words, delivered to Goldwin himself, who had +just then slipped up to the group.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I can't," he at once replied, "unless I +mean every one of them."</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" said Mrs. Diggs, "how quickly you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +grasp the situation! So you heard what we were +talking about, did you? You've found out that we +were discussing your last enthusiasm?"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Goldwin, "I have very few of them. +Don't cheapen me, please, in the regard of Mrs. Hollister."</p> + +<p>"You seem to count upon her regard with singular +confidence," said Mrs. Van Horn.</p> + +<p>"That's entirely our affair," laughed Goldwin. +He looked at Claire, but while he did so Mrs. Van +Horn placed her hand within his arm. She took it +for granted that her carriage had been properly summoned +by the financier, and she was going to permit +him to accompany her thither, as she had permitted +him to find it; she nearly always put herself in the +attitude of permitting favors and not soliciting them, +by some deft, secure art, quite her own. The bow +of farewell which she gave Claire was handsomely +suave. Mrs. Lee moved away at her other side. +Mrs. Lee had been her guest, that evening, and they +were to ride home together.</p> + +<p>"So, Claire, it's settled," presently said Mrs. +Diggs. "Cornelia is to know you. So is Sylvia +Lee. Be careful of them both. I can't feel certain, +yet, of exactly what it all means.... Here's that +dear Manhattan of mine. He has got our carriage. +Shall I remain with you till your husband reappears?... +Very well; I will. But this is no place +in which to talk over the whole odd, interesting +thing. I'll try and drop in upon you soon; possibly +to-morrow, if I can manage it.... Does Manhattan +see us? Just observe how stupidly he stares +everywhere but here. He's been a little strange and +absent-minded all the evening. I really think he's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +forgotten where he left me. He smokes too many of +those strong, horrid cigars, don't you know? I truly +believe that they cloud his brain half the time ... +but then it's better he should smoke too much than +drink too much. I don't know what I <i>should</i> do if +the dear fellow drank too much!" ...</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs did present herself at Claire's house +on the following day. But Claire was not at home. +She had driven out in company with her husband.</p> + +<p>It was a momentous drive. They had left home +together at about one o'clock. Claire had no idea +whither they were going, at first. Hollister had +chosen to assume an air of profound mysticism. "I +have a great surprise for you," he said.</p> + +<p>There was no characteristic twinkle in his eye as +he made this statement. Claire felt that he was far +from saddened, and yet his gravity looked an undoubted +fact.</p> + +<p>"I will accompany you blindly," she said, just +before they entered the carriage. "I suppose, however, +there are some more jewels at Tiffany's which +you want me to see and choose from."</p> + +<p>"No," said Hollister, shaking his head. "I +shouldn't spend nearly a whole day away from Wall +Street for anything of that sort."</p> + +<p>The carriage had soon passed Tiffany's by a considerable +distance, in what we call the downward direction. +As its progress increased, Claire's curiosity +heightened, but for some time she gave no proof of +this. Her talk was of their new attainments, of +their growing pastimes, pleasures, and luxuries. She +spoke often with a slightly unfamiliar speed; it was +a little habit that of late had come upon her; it betrayed +gentle excitement in place of previous compos<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>ure. +To Hollister, when he observed it at all, the +effect was filled with charm; he no more disliked it +than he would have disliked to see a very tender +breeze lightly agitate some beautiful bloom. But +now his gravity by no means lessened under the spell +of Claire's rather voluble advances. She had plainly +seen the change; on a sudden she herself became serious +as he; then, after an interval of almost complete +silence, she placed her hand in his. The carriage +was now very near to one of the Brooklyn ferries. +No doubt the first real suspicion of the truth had +flashed through Claire's mind when she abruptly +said:—</p> + +<p>"Where <i>are</i> we going, Herbert? You really <i>must</i> +tell me."</p> + +<p>He met her intent look; she had rarely seen his +blithe eyes more solemn than now.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you guessed by this time?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have," she answered. Her tone was a +low murmur; she had averted her eyes from his, and +would have withdrawn from him her hand, had not +the clasp of his own softly rebelled against this act. +Her cheeks had flushed almost crimson. "Go on," +she persisted. "Tell me if I am right."</p> + +<p>"I think you are, Claire; I think you have guessed +it, at last." The carriage had just entered the big +gateway of the ferry; wheels and hoofs took a new +sound as they struck the planks of the wharf. "Don't +you remember that night at the Island, a little while +after our engagement, when you told me that it +would give you such joy to regain your father's body +and to have it decently buried, in a Christian way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Herbert ... I remember." She spoke the +words so faintly that he scarcely heard them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, Claire, I made you a promise, then, and I +recollected the promise."</p> + +<p>"But <i>I</i> forgot it!" she cried, throwing both arms +about his neck, for an instant, and kissing his cheek. +Immediately afterward she burst into tears. "Oh, +Herbert, you remembered and I forgot! How wicked +of me! I let other things—things that were trifles +and vanities—drive it from my mind! Poor, dear, +dead Father! He would never have done that to +me! He loved me too well—far too well!"</p> + +<p>The tears were rushing down her face, and her frame +was in a miserable tremor. Already he had caught +both her hands, and was firmly pressing them while +he bent toward her, and while she leaned in a relaxed +posture against the back of the carriage. He thought +her repentance as exquisite as it was needless; he +held it as only a fresh proof of her sweet, refined +spirit. It brought the mist into his sight, and made +his voice throb very unwontedly, to see her weep and +tremble thus.</p> + +<p>"My darling," his next words hurried, "you're +not in the least to blame. You would have thought +about it a little later, I'm certain. But so much has +happened since our marriage, you know. Besides, +what you call trifles and vanities are just what he +wanted you to think about. He must be glad (if +the dead are ever glad or sorry in any way) to see +you climb higher, and get the notice and influence +you deserve. You never slighted his memory at all. +Don't fancy you did, Claire. He was in your mind +all the while, only you postponed speaking of him a +little longer than you intended. You had told me +what to do, don't you see, and you felt a certain +security as regarded my doing it. That was all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +Now do cheer up. We've quite a ride to Greenwood +after we leave the ferry. Everything has been done, +quietly, dear, without your knowing. I thought it +would pain you too much to stand beside any open +grave of his. The body was not hard to find. You +recollected its ... its number, you know. I'm +sure you will like the stone I've had put over him. +It is just a plain granite one, with the name, and +date of death. The date of birth shall be put there +afterward; I didn't want to ask it of you yet; that +would have spoiled my surprise."</p> + +<p>She grew perfectly calm again, some time before +they reached the cemetery. The cessation of her +tears deeply relieved Hollister. He had never seen +her weep before, and the betrayal of such emotion, +feminine though it was, had harshly disturbed him. +Once more composed, she returned to him in her +proper strength. She became Claire again. It was +not that he did not like her to show weakness, but +rather that in showing weakness she appeared new +and odd to him, and hence not just his own strong, +serene, familiar Claire. Any jar, as it were, in the +steadfast vibrations of his fealty sent to the heart +of this most unswerving loyalist a strange, acute +dismay.</p> + +<p>The autumn darkness had almost fallen upon the +multitudinous tombs of Greenwood before Claire was +willing to leave that of her father. His name, cut in +the modest gray of the stone, seemed for hours afterward +cut into her conscience as well. The grand repose +of the place, too, left its haunting thrill in her +soul. A great sombre note had been struck through +all her being, at a time when brain and nerves had +begun to feel the full intoxication of worldly longing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +While she was living intensely, death had come to +her in the shape of keen, reproachful reminder. The +vast cemetery had now no vernal or summer charm. +Above, the sky was soft as a clouded turquoise, but +underfoot, and on tree and shrub, the lovely melancholy +of waning autumn met the bitter melancholy +of a far more woful decay. It was all like one mighty +threnody put to mighty yet very tender music. With +a certain sinister and piercing eloquence, moreover, +this huge, mute city of death addressed Claire. Many +noted family names had of late passed into her memory, +as those of people whom it would be safe, wise, +politic to know; and not a few of these she now saw, +lettered on slabs or shafts, and graven over the portals +of vaults. Each one, as her gaze read it, wore a +frightful sarcasm. More than once she closed her +eyes and shuddered, as the carriage made both exit +and entrance here in this sad domain. The perfect +culture of the place rendered its doleful pathos even +more poignant. The dead were not neglected, here; +others, now alive and of the bright world she had +yearned to triumph in, must soon lie down beside +them. The narrow beds were kept well tended, perhaps, +for just this dreary and hideous reason.</p> + +<p>That night she spent almost without sleep. She +heard her mother's vindictive voice ring through the +stillness; she had waking visions of her father's +face, clad with an angelic rebuke; she seemed to listen +once more while Beverley Thurston spoke those +words of remonstrance and chiding which were the +last he had uttered in her presence: "I warn you +against yourself ... there is an actual curse hanging +over you ... it will surely fall, unless by the +act of your own will you change it into a blessing."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yes, her aim had been false and worthless. She +knew it well, at last. Her father's grave had told +her so. She was born for better things than to fling +down a dainty gauntlet of social warfare at Mrs. +Van Horn. The big world had big work for such a +woman as herself to front and do. She realized it +now; she had realized it all along. Herbert thought +she had been right merely because he loved her. To-morrow +she would make Herbert see clearly the folly +of his own acquiescence. Now that the money had +come, there were great charities possible. She would +go back, too, among her books; these should teach +her more than they had ever yet taught. It was true +enough that in one way she was cold; she could not +feel passion like other women. The infatuation of a +Mrs. Ridgeway Lee was an enigma to her. But she +could love a loftier ideal of life—love it and try to +climb thither by the steeper and harsher path. This, +surely, was what her father had meant, long ago.</p> + +<p>Such were her new reflections and her new resolves. +It took just one day, and no more, to dissipate them +completely. Mrs. Diggs sent her a note on the following +afternoon, saying that a hundred little obstructive +matters had prevented her purposed visit +that morning, but begging to have the pleasure of +her own and her husband's company at dinner on +the same evening. Would not Claire drop in very +early—say about four o'clock? "It is my visiting +day," wrote her correspondent. "Perhaps there will +be four or five feminine callers, perhaps none. If +there are none, we can have a good three hours' chat, +don't you know? I've some new things from Paris +that I want to show you. It strikes me that Worth's +taste grows more depraved every year, and I want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +you to give me your advice as to whether I shall +throw all these hideous importations over to my +maid or no. You can leave a little note at home for +that delightful husband of yours, telling him that +the Diggses dine at seven. Or you can show him +this note, unless you have jealous feelings with regard +to my florid adjective."</p> + +<p>Claire quitted the house at about four that afternoon, +leaving behind her a few lines for Hollister. +She chose to go on foot, the day being fair and pleasant. +But she had scarcely got twenty yards away +from her own stoop, when a carriage rattled past her, +stopping suddenly. It was an equipage of great elegance. +Claire soon perceived that it had stopped before +the door from which she had just made exit. A +footman sprang from the box, and immediately afterward +what appeared to be more than a single card +was handed him by an unseen occupant of the carriage. +He then ascended the stoop of the Hollister +abode, and sharply rang its bell. When his summons +was answered the man held brief converse with +Claire's new butler, and then presented, with a little +bow, the card or cards intrusted to him. In a trice +he was down the stoop again, and again at the carriage +door. He did not seem to deliver any spoken +message, but merely touched with one raised finger +the rim of his cockaded hat. The carriage then +started briskly off, without its high-throned driver +paying the slightest heed to the fact that his liveried +associate must scramble up to his side while the +vehicle was in full motion. But this feat was accomplished +with great ease; a mannerism of fashion +demanded that the footman should so perform it; the +approved effect of complete unconcern on the one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +hand and up-leaping agility on the other was never +produced with more complete success.</p> + +<p>Claire had soon reëntered the house. She found +two cards there, awaiting her inspection. One bore +the name of Mrs. Van Horn, and one that of Mrs. +Ridgeway Lee.</p> + +<p>"Delightful!" exclaimed Mrs. Diggs, on learning +this occurrence from Claire herself, about a half hour +later. "That visit, from those two women, has an +enormous meaning. How sorry I am you were not +at home. It would have been two against one, but +I'm inclined to pay you the very marked compliment +of saying that both your antagonists, deep and clever +as they are, would have been no match for you. +Well, hostilities are postponed. It's an armistice, +not a truce. I insist, you see, on using the terms of +warfare. How the battle will be fought is still a +mystery, of course; but two potent truths simply +<i>can't</i> be overlooked. You refused Cornelia Van +Horn's brother. That is one of them."</p> + +<p>"And the second?" asked Claire, a little absently, +because she felt what answer would come.</p> + +<p>"The second? You've roused pointed admiration +in the man whom Sylvia Lee worships."</p> + +<p>Claire looked at the speaker, and slowly shook her +head. There was doubt, trouble, irresolution in her +face; and now, when she spoke, her voice had a +weary, almost plaintive note.</p> + +<p>"I—I feel like not engaging in the fight, if you +really think there is to be one," she said, hesitantly. +"I don't mean because I am afraid," were her next +words, delivered with much greater swiftness. "Oh, +no, not that. There are other reasons. I can't explain, +just now." Here she paused, and her face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +softly brightened, while she gave a little shrug of the +shoulders. "Well," she abruptly went on, "perhaps +I shall never explain."</p> + +<p>She never did explain. This was her last feeble +protest against the slow, sure force of that subtle +fascination which was once more steadily reclaiming +her. The gloomy remorse and the vital energy of +yesterday's mood had, neither of them, quite left her. +But they both soon withdrew their last remnant of +sway.</p> + +<p>Hollister came a little late to Mrs. Diggs's dinner. +It had been a great day with him. He had risked a +very important sum by retaining a large number of +shares in a certain precarious stock. He had his +reasons for doing so, and they were clever reasons, +judged by the general conditions of the market. He +had made a memorable stroke, and all Wall Street +knew of it before the usual hour for brokers to seek +other than their daily haunts of hazard. He was +radiant, if this could be said of one whose spirits +were always bright, as his temper was sweet. There +were only four at dinner. Mr. Diggs overflowed with +congratulations to Hollister. He was quite as tipsy +as usual, and to Claire's thinking, quite as tiresome.</p> + +<p>But the dinner was not tiresome. Mrs. Diggs was +at her loquacious best. The recent brilliant manœuvre +of her husband had roused in Claire all the old +exultant feeling. Yesterday was now indeed yesterday. +She was already plunging an eager look straight +onward through a long rosy vista of to-morrows.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad, Herbert!" she said, as they were +being driven home together. "Perhaps I didn't +show that I was, there at dinner. That dreadful Mr. +Diggs is made of such explosive material that I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +afraid he would want to drink your health standing, +or something of that absurd sort, if I ventured to tell +you how glad I really was that you've made another +hit, luckier than any you ever made before."</p> + +<p>Hollister put his lips to her cheek. "I know just +how glad you are," he said, while kissing her. "You +needn't tell me another word about it."</p> + +<p>Claire had spoken with that little half-excited trip +of the tongue, which has been recorded as a late +change in her demeanor.</p> + +<p>She was silent, not having returned her husband's +caress. This was quite like the accustomed Claire. +Yesterday, in the carriage which had borne them to +Greenwood, she had flung her arms about his neck +and kissed him, as any ordinary wife might do.</p> + +<p>Hollister was quietly re-accepting her, so to speak, +as the extraordinary wife—or, in other terser phrase, +as Claire.</p> + +<p>He went on speaking before she had a chance to +answer him. He was still holding her hand while +he spoke. "Oh, by the way, Claire, Goldwin had a +good deal to do with my luck. He gave me points, +as they say down there. But don't breathe it to a +living soul. Goldwin's an awfully good friend of +mine, I find, though we haven't always pulled together +in a business way."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" Claire answered.</p> + +<p>She had somehow got her hand away from his. +She was using it to arrange her wrap about the +throat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> gay season had soon set in with full force. +It promised to be a season of especial brilliancy. +Claire rapidly found people gathering about her. +She began to have a little list of her own. The wives +of the two gentlemen who had dined with herself and +husband in Goldwin's company, each asked herself +and husband to dine at their own house. The dinners +were both of sumptuous quality, and attended +by numerous other guests. Claire made a deep impression +at both places. Her toilettes were rich and +of unique taste; she was by far the most beautiful +woman at either assemblage. The sudden financial +glory of Hollister, whose actual wealth was tripled if +not quadrupled by rumor, cast about her exceptional +grace, beauty, and wit an added halo of distinction. +She was the kind of woman whom women like. In +not a few of her own sex she quickly roused an enthusiastic +partisanship.</p> + +<p>"You are bound to lead, or nothing," Mrs. Diggs +soon said to her. "I see this very clearly, Claire,—though, +for that matter, I have seen it all along."</p> + +<p>"I mean to lead, or nothing," answered Claire, +with her superb candor. "Thus far I have not found +it difficult."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs put up her thin forefinger.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut," she remonstrated. "Don't be too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +confident. Ambition <i>may</i> overleap itself. Remember +that you are still on the threshold."</p> + +<p>"I've crossed it," said Claire, laughing. "I've +got into the drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"No, you haven't, my dear. You have yet +achieved nothing secure, absolute, decisive. Now, +I'm not a bit of a snob, myself, as you know. But +I understand how to reason like one; I can measure +the mettle of the foe you've got to fight with. Let +us talk plainly together, as we always do. None of +the very heavy swells have as yet admitted you. +There's no use of denying this. You're being a +great deal talked about. You've broken bread already, +and you've received invitations to break more +bread, with some very nice, exclusive women. But +they are not of the first rank; they're not of the +great, proud, select clique. True, Cornelia has called +on you, and Sylvia Lee has called. You've returned +their visits, and have seen neither; neither was at +home. But then neither <i>is</i> at home except on her +visiting-day, and that is customarily written with +much legibility on both their cards. But on both the +cards which you received, <i>no day at all was written</i>. +I've never mentioned this before, have I? Well, it +never occurred to me until last night. I was nervous, +and couldn't sleep; that dear Manhattan was out at +the club, smoking those horrid cigars, which flush his +face so and hurt his poor, dear brain, I'm sure. Perhaps +it was that which kept me awake and made my +mind wander toward you, and reflect upon this peculiarly +interesting stage of your career. The little +circumstance I have mentioned may mean nothing, +but I'm inclined to think otherwise; everything, no +matter how trivial, about Cornelia, is sure to mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +something. But, however this may be, affairs have +now reached a peculiar pass with you. You must +make a <i>coup</i>, my dear—a grand <i>coup</i>."</p> + +<p>"Which you have arranged entirely," said Claire, +smiling, "I haven't a doubt. And now you await +my sanction of it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs creased her pale forehead, in a reflective +frown. "No, not precisely that, my dear; I haven't +yet quite decided what it is to be. But I have almost +decided. Suppose that you do not make it at +all—that is, not in your own person. Suppose that +I make it for you."</p> + +<p>"You?" inquired Claire.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Suppose that I send out cards for a huge +reception, and place your card within the same envelope. +Then you would receive at my side, don't +you know, and everybody who came must henceforth +be on your list as well as on mine. I would launch +you boldly forth, in other words. I would put you +under my wing. I would give you my <i>cachet</i>."</p> + +<p>A marked intimacy now existed between Claire +and Goldwin. He would often drop in of an evening—sometimes +of an afternoon. Hollister was not +by any means at home every evening, when he and +Claire had no mutual engagement. He was getting +to have a good many solitary engagements. "Stag" +dinners claimed him; there would be nocturnal trysts +with certain fellow-financiers on the subject of the +morrow's chances. Then, too, he had been made a +member of the Metropolitan Club, an institution +oddly hard, and in a way oddly easy, to enter; it was +the one great reigning club of the continent; none +other precisely resembled it; the social leaders who +did not belong to it were few, and to cross its door<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>step +at will was the unfulfilled dream of many a +social struggler.</p> + +<p>Claire cordially liked Goldwin. If he had been +obscure she would still have liked him, though his +importance was so knit in with his personality, he +exhaled such an atmosphere of pecuniary and patrician +celebrity, that one could ill think of him as +ever being or ever having been obscure. She was +boldly frank with him regarding her ambitious aims. +He would throw back his handsome head and laugh +most heartily at her ingenuous confidences. He +would tell her that she was the most exquisite joke +in the world, and yet that he was somehow forced to +accept her as quite the opposite of one. "Ah, yes, +intensely opposite," he would add, with a fluttered +pull at his silken mustache that she felt to be studied +in its emotional suggestiveness, with a large sigh that +she suspected of being less studied, and with a look +in his charming hazel eyes that would nearly always +make her avert her own. His homage had become a +very substantial fact, and she knew just how much +of it the popular standard of wifely discretion would +permit her to receive—just how much of it would +be her advantage and not her detriment. He was +too keen not to have perceived that she had drawn +this judicious line of calculation. Now and then he +made little semi-jocose attempts to overleap it, but +at the worst a word could curb him where a glance +failed. She found him, all in all, saltatory but never +vicious; a stout pull of the rein always brought him +to terms.</p> + +<p>After her converse with Mrs. Diggs, just recorded, +she told him of the latter's proposed <i>coup</i>. He +looked at her sharply for a moment, and then made +a very wry grimace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "That woman +endorse you! It would be complete ruin."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Diggs is my friend, and as such I must insist +upon your always speaking with respect of her in +my presence," reprimanded Claire, stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Respect? Why, of course I respect her. Not +physically; she's constructed on too painful a plan +of zigzags. But in all other ways I consider her delightful. +She's got a big, warm heart in that angular +body of hers. She's as liberal as the air. But +she isn't good form—she isn't a swell, and no +earthly power could make her so. Of course she +doesn't think she has really lost caste. She may tell +you that she does, but privately she has an immense +belief in her ability to play the fine lady at a moment's +notice. I don't know any woman more flatly +disapproved of by her own original set. Shall I tell +you what this idea of hers would result in if practically +carried out? A distinct injury to yourself. +She has a crowd of queer friends whom she wouldn't +slight for the world; she's too consistently good-hearted. +She'd invite them all, and they would all +come. Her notable relations—the Van Horns and +Van Corlears and Amsterdams and Hackensacks, +and Heaven knows who else—would yawn and perhaps +shudder when they got the tickets for her entertainment. +They would mostly come, too, and all +their grand friends would no doubt follow them. +But they would come with a feeling of deadly rancor +toward yourself; they would never forgive you +for setting her up to it, and nothing could induce +them to believe that you had <i>not</i> set her up to it." +Here Goldwin crossed his legs with an impatient +violence, and stared down at one of his shoes with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +enough intensity for it to have been concerned in the +last caprice of the stock-market. "Oh, no," he went +on, "that would never do. Never in the world. It +wouldn't be a <i>coup</i> at all; it would be a monstrous +<i>fiasco</i>. Take my advice, now, and politely but firmly +nip any such proceeding in the bud."</p> + +<p>Claire did. On his own side, Goldwin was secretly +determined that she whom he thought the most fascinating, +novel, and beautiful woman he had ever met, +should achieve the full extent of her desires. These +desires affected him much as they affected Hollister; +they were part of Claire's charm for him; they were +like the golden craft of scrollwork that framed the +picture; they set it off, and made it more precious; +there was a lovely imperiousness about them that +would have bored him in another woman, like a kind +of ugly greed, but that in her were a delight.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind to serve her, brilliantly, +conspicuously, and he soon did so. He issued invitations +for a dinner at Delmonico's, and gave it on a +scale of splendor that eclipsed all his previous hospitalities. +Rare music stole to the guests while they +feasted; the board was literally pavilioned in flowers; +the wines and the viands were marvels of rarity +and cost; beside the plate of each lady lay a fan +studded with her monogram in precious stones; during +dessert a little cake was served to everybody +present, which, when broken, contained a ring with +the word <i>bienvenu</i> embossed in silver along its golden +circlet. The host had very carefully chosen his guests +from among the autocrats and arbiters of fashion. +Claire and Hollister were the only persons who did +not represent aristocracy at its sovereign height. But +on Claire fell the chief honors. It was she whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +Goldwin conducted into the dining room; it was she +to whom he directed the major share of his attentions, +contriving with slight apparent effort that she +should know every one else, and making it evident +that the affair was held in large luxurious compliment +to herself alone, though not thrusting this fact +into more than partial prominence.</p> + +<p>Goldwin, for certain marked reasons of his own, +had been from the first resolved upon the attendance +of Mrs. Ridgeway Lee. He sent no invitation to +Mrs. Van Horn. He knew that Claire suspected the +latter of adverse feelings, and he knew no more than +this. But Mrs. Van Horn was not a necessity to the +success of his festival; she could easily be replaced +by some other leader, and it would be much better +not to invite her at all than to invite her without +avail. But Mrs. Lee must appear.</p> + +<p>He had been prepared for refusal, and it promptly +came. On the evening of the day it reached him, he +presented himself at Mrs. Lee's residence. He found +her alone. She had denied herself to four or five +other gentlemen during the previous hour. She had +expected Goldwin, though she tried to look decorously +surprised when he entered her elegant little +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>She had chosen to clothe herself in black satin, +the shimmer of whose tense-drawn fabric about bust +and waist, and of its trailing draperies about the +lower portion of her lithe person, gave to her strange +beauty an almost startling oddity. An irreverent +critic who had recently seen her in this robe had declared +that she made him think of a wet eel. Allowing +the comparison to have been apt, if ungallant, +there is no doubt that she could have suggested only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +an eel very much humanized, with a face of quite as +extraordinary feminine beauty as that possessed by +the deadly lady whom Keats so weirdly celebrated.</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes seemed to-night lit with the smouldering +fires of fever. The moment Goldwin looked +well at her he made up his mind that he was to have +a hard time of it. She had undoubtedly guessed the +purport of his dinner, and she meant to tell him so. +He strongly suspected that she meant to tell him so, +as well, with considerable verbal embellishment.</p> + +<p>He pretended, in a playful way, to be dazzled by +her fantastic apparel. He put both hands up to his +eyes and rubbed them in a comic imitation of bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"I'm not prepared to tell you whether I like it or +not," he said, while he sank into one of the big, +yielding chairs. "But I consider it splendidly effective. +It makes you appear so beautifully slippery. +You look as if you could slide into an indiscretion, +and then squirm right out again without being observed +by anybody."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee bit her lip. She had often let him say +more saucy things than this to her, and not resented +them. But to-night her mood held no such tolerance.</p> + +<p>"You once promised me," she said, "that you +would never speak rudely about my personal appearance." +She seemed to shape with some difficulty +this and the sentences that <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'fellowed'">followed</ins> it. "I did not +make myself. Perhaps if I had been granted that +privilege I might have hit on a type more suited to +your taste."</p> + +<p>Goldwin shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, come," he +said, "you've let me chaff you a hundred times before, +and treated it as a joke."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was still seated, while she stood. He forgot to +think this a discourtesy toward her; he would have +remembered it as such with almost any other woman; +his outward manners were usually blameless; but +perhaps he was no more at fault than she herself for +the present negligence.</p> + +<p>As it was, it did not strike her. She was thinking +of other weightier things. A delicate table stood +near her, and she half turned toward it, breaking +from a massive basket of crimson roses one whose +rich petals were heavy-folded and perfect, and fixing +it in the bosom of her night-dark dress. Goldwin +was watching her covertly but keenly all the while. +She seemed to him like an incarnate tempest—he +knew her so well. His furtive but sharp gaze saw +the tremor in her slim, pale fingers as she dealt with +the discompanioned rose.</p> + +<p>Finding that she did not answer, he went on: +"You're out of sorts to-night. Has anything gone +wrong during the day?"</p> + +<p>She tossed her head for an instant, and her lip +curled so high that it showed the white edge of her +teeth. But promptly she seemed to decide upon a +mild and not a harsh retort. "I have been at the +hospital most of the afternoon," she said. "I prayed +for an hour beside a poor old woman who was dying +with cancer." She gave a quick, nervous shudder. +"It was horrible." She closed her eyes, then slowly +unclosed them. "Horrible," she repeated, in her +most measured way.</p> + +<p>"It must have been simply ghastly," observed +Goldwin, with dryness. "For Heaven's sake, why +don't you swear off these debauches of charity for at +least a month or two? They're completely breaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +you up. It's they that put you in these frightful +humors."</p> + +<p>She came several steps toward him, and sank into +a chair quite close at his side. She twisted herself so +inordinately, in taking this new posture, that her detractors +would have decided the whole performance +one of her most aggravating affectations. "What +frightful humors?" she asked. This question had +the same loitering, somnolent intonation that always +belonged to her speech, and contrasted so quaintly +with her nervous, volatile turns and poses.</p> + +<p>Goldwin saw that the time had come. "Oh, you +know what I mean," he said. "You went and refused +my dinner. Of course you didn't mean it."</p> + +<p>"I did mean it," said Mrs. Lee, very low indeed.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. I'm like an enterprising salesman. I +won't take 'no' for an answer."</p> + +<p>"I shall give you no other."</p> + +<p>He leaned nearer to her. "What on earth is the +matter?" he inquired. "I am going to make it a +very nice affair. I don't think I've ever done anything +quite as pretty as this will be. You used to +tell me that no one did these things just as well as I. +You used to say that if I ever left you out of one of +my state feasts you'd cut my acquaintance."</p> + +<p>She had drooped her small, dark head while he +spoke, but now, as he finished, she raised it. Her +tones were still low, but unwonted speed was in her +words.</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt you will make it a very nice affair. +But you give it because you want to give distinction +to a woman who has bewitched you. Don't deny +that Mrs. Hollister will be there. I know it—I am +certain of it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't deny it," said Goldwin, crossing his legs +quietly, "now that you afford me a chance of stating +it."</p> + +<p>He saw her control an inward shiver from displaying +more overt signs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," she said, "do not let us discuss the +question any more. I sent you my regret to-day. I +have another engagement, as I told you."</p> + +<p>"Another engagement is easily broken."</p> + +<p>"It is a dinner engagement."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you."</p> + +<p>"You are grossly rude."</p> + +<p>"I know I am. It's perfectly awful. It's the first +time I ever insulted a woman. I shall be in the +depths of repentance all day to-morrow. I don't +know if I shall ever really pardon myself. But ... +I don't believe you, all the same."</p> + +<p>He said this with a mournful deliberation that +would at any other time have roused her most enjoying +laughter; for he had in him the rich fund of true +comedy, as many of his friends were wont loudly to +attest, and at will he could draw flattering plaudits of +mirth from even the gloomiest hearer.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Lee did not show the glimpse of a smile.</p> + +<p>"There is no use," she said. "I have given you +my answer. I shall not go. I shall not permit you +to make of my name and position a mere idle convenience. +I shall not lend you either one or the other, +that it may serve your purpose in presenting to society +any adventuress who may have pleased your +fancy."</p> + +<p>Goldwin was very angry at this speech. She had +no idea how angry it had made him, as he quietly +rose and faced her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What right have you to call her an adventuress?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him. "Of +course she is one. Her husband, too, is an adventurer. +They're both trying to push themselves in +among the best people. And you are helping them. +You are helping him because of her; and you are +helping her ... well, you are helping her because +of herself."</p> + +<p>Goldwin gave a smile at this. She perceived, then, +how very angry he was. She knew his smile so well +that when it came, different from any other she had +ever seen on the same lips, it struck her by its cold +novelty.</p> + +<p>"You called upon this adventuress," he said; "you +were willing to do that."</p> + +<p>"Yes—to please you."</p> + +<p>"Allow that as your reason. You called on her in +private to please me. You will not meet her in public +to please me. Is not that just how the case stands?"</p> + +<p>She fixed her eyes on his face. Her feverish look +had grown humid. He could plainly note that her +lips trembled. She was so alive, now, to a sense of +his being very indignant, that this realization frightened +her, and she let him see, with pitiable candor, +just how much it frightened her.</p> + +<p>"You are in love with Mrs. Hollister," she murmured. +"And—she is in love with you."</p> + +<p>She showed him the full scope of his power by those +few words. He walked toward the door, pausing on +its threshold.</p> + +<p>"I won't remain to hear you insult a woman whom +I respect," he said; "you called her an adventuress, +which is untrue; you now say something even worse."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you deny it?" she asked, rising.</p> + +<p>Her question had a plaintive, querulous ring, which +the circumstances made something more than pathetic.</p> + +<p>"Will you reconsider your refusal?" he said, making +the interrogation a reply.</p> + +<p>She sank back into her seat again.</p> + +<p>"No, never!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Good night," he returned. He went immediately +out into the hall, put on his coat and hat, and left the +house.</p> + +<p>"She will yield," he told himself. "I am sure of +it. She showed me that she would if I were only +hard enough. I mean to be hard. I can make it up +in kindness by and by."</p> + +<p>He waited three days. No word came to him from +Mrs. Lee. But on the fourth word came to him.</p> + +<p>"I knew it," he thought, as he read her note.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee went to the dinner in a truly marvelous +gown. It was some curious blending of crimson and +black silks, that made her look sombrely clad in one +attitude and luridly clad in the next. Her only jewelry +was a thin snake of rubies about her slender +throat, and the head of the snake, set directly beneath +her chin, was a big gold one, having two large garnets +for eyes. All the women pronounced her costume +ridiculously overdone. All the men professed to like +it. She never appeared in gayer spirits. Next to +Claire she was the most notable feminine guest.</p> + +<p>But Claire ruled absolute. She had never been +more beautiful, perhaps because she had never felt +more secretly and victoriously exultant. The delicious +music, the piercing yet tender odor of the lavish +flowers, the insidious potency of the wines, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +she sipped sparingly and felt dangerously tingle +through her veins—all these influences wrought +upon her a species of stimulating enthrallment which +made the whole splendid banquet seem, on the following +day, like some enchanted dream. On one +side sat Goldwin, the genius who had created this +lovely witchery, urbane, devoted, allegiant; on the +other side sat a man of deserved eminence, a wit, a +scholar, a statesman. She talked with both companions, +and it could not be said that she then charmed +both, for one was already her loyal devotee. As for +the other, though advanced in years and freighted +with pungent experiences, he soon tacitly admitted +that he had at last found, at the most discriminating +period of his career, a woman whose graces of intelligence +and beauty met in faultless unison. As all the +ladies rose, leaving the gentlemen to their coffee and +cigars, he leaned toward Goldwin, even before Claire's +draperies had swept the threshold of the dining-room, +and significantly murmured:—</p> + +<p>"You were right. She is an event."</p> + +<p>That dinner was the stepping-stone by which Claire +mounted into immediate triumph. All through the +next year she was the reigning favorite in just that +realm where she had aimed to reign. Her father +had died a pauper and been buried as one. She, the +mistress of many thousands, having fixedly remembered +what a feeble, disappointed, obscure, broken-down +man had said to her in early childhood, now +stood as the living, actual result of his past counsel. +Years ago the seed had been sown in that dingy little +basement of One-Hundred-and-Twelfth Street. +To-day the flower bloomed, rare and beautiful. The +little girl had climbed the hill to its top, after all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +She had not grown tired and gone home before the +top was reached. She had done her father's bidding. +She was sure he would be glad if he knew.</p> + +<p>'And yet am I quite sure?' she would sometimes +ask herself. 'Was this what he really meant when +he spoke those words?'</p> + +<p>She knew perfectly the folly of the course that she +now pursued. Her occasional self-questionings were +a hypocrisy that she realized while she indulged it. +But they were very occasional. She had slight time +for introspection, for analysis of her own acts.</p> + +<p>Flattery and devotion literally poured in upon her, +like the new wealth that continued to pour in upon +her husband. The house in Twenty-Eighth Street +was soon exchanged for a spacious mansion on Fifth +Avenue. Claire ceased to know even the number of +her servants. She had a housekeeper, who superintended +their engagements and discharges. She dwelt +in an atmosphere of excessive luxury, and found herself +loving it more and more as she yielded to the +spell of its subtle enervation.</p> + +<p>Her second winter was the confirmation of her sovereignty. +As the phrase goes, she was asked everywhere. +Her bright or caustic sayings were ever on +the lips of loyal quoters. Her toilettes were described +with journalistic realism in more than a single newspaper. +Cards for her entertainments were eagerly +sought, and often vainly. Foreigners of distinction +drifted into her drawing-rooms as if by a natural +process of attraction. She had scarcely a moment of +time to herself; when she was not entertaining she +was being entertained. Her admirers, women and +men, vied in efforts to secure her presence. She had +acquired, as if by some magic instinct, the last needed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +personal touch; she had got the grand air to perfection. +Diplomatists who had met and known the most +noted beauties of European courts had nothing but +praise to pay her serene elegance of deportment, the +undulating grace of her step, the nice melody of her +voice, the fine wizardry of her smile. She had never +seen Europe, yet she might have spent all the years +of her youth on its soil with no lovelier results than +those which now marked her captivating manner. +She was American, past question, to transatlantic +eyes; yet these found in her only the original buoyancy +and freshness of that nationality, without a +gleam of its so-termed coarseness.</p> + +<p>Foes, of course, rose up against her. There can be +no sun without shadow. She had made herself so +distinct a rarity that cheapening comment could not +fail to begin its assault. It did so, in hot earnest. +Two women had denied their sanction to her sudden +popularity. These were Mrs. Van Horn and Mrs. +Ridgeway Lee. They were not open enemies; neither, +to all appearances, were they covert ones. They +were on speaking terms with her. They met her constantly, +yet they offered her no deference. Deference +was what she now required, and with a widely-admitted +right.</p> + +<p>The invidious statements that stole into circulation +regarding her could not be traced either to the vengeance +of Beverley Thurston's sister or the jealousy +of Stuart Goldwin's abandoned worshiper. It is possible +that the most leal of Claire's defenders never +thought of so tracing them. But the statements +were made, and took wing. She had been a vulgar +girl of the people. Her parentage was of the most +plebeian sort. A lucky marriage had given her the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +chance, now accepted and enlarged. Her maiden +name had been this, that, and the other. She was +absolutely nobody.</p> + +<p>Claire heard none of these scorching comments. +She reigned too haughtily for that. Mrs. Diggs +heard them, but Mrs. Diggs betrayed no sign of their +existence. Goldwin was now devotedly at Claire's +side; they were repeatedly seen in public together; +the world in which she ruled considered it a splendid +subjugation; she had brought the great Wall Street +King obsequiously to her feet.</p> + +<p>But no breath of slander tainted the relation between +them. Claire had been very clever; she had +blunted the first arrow, so to speak. She had done +so by means of her complete innocence. Goldwin +was in love with her; no one doubted this. It was +something notable to have said of one. But she was +so safely not in love with Goldwin that she could +continually, by strokes of frank tact, show the world +her own calm recipiency and his entire subservience. +A swift yet sure chasm widened between herself and +Hollister. The latter had become a man of incessant +and imperative engagements. Claire never dreamed +of feeling a jealous pang, and yet she knew that her +husband, no less than herself, had become a star of +fashion. Hollister was assiduously courted. He and +Claire would now meet once a day, and sometimes +not so often. They had separate apartments; it was +so much more convenient for both. The same dinner-engagement +frequently claimed them; but on +these occasions she would appear in the lower hall to +meet him, rustling beneath some new miracle of +dressmaking, and they would get into the carriage +together and be driven to the appointed place. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +the dinner they would be widely separated. He +would sit beside some woman glad to have secured +him; she would be the companion of some man +happy because of her nearness. The dinner would +break up; the hour would be somewhat late; they +would get into their carriage; Hollister would have +an appointment, at the club, or somewhere. He +would let Claire into the great new house with his +latch-key. "Good night," he would say, and hurry +off into the carriage that had waited for him. Claire +would ascend and be disrobed by a sleepy maid. To-morrow +there would perhaps be another dinner, of +the same sort. Or it might be an affair to which she +went alone, and from which Goldwin accompanied +her home. Goldwin was always prepared to accompany +her. He obeyed her nod.</p> + +<p>But Hollister was still her devout subject. It was +merely that the sundering stress of circumstances divided +them. He did not forget Claire; he postponed +her. Everything was in a whirl with him, now; he +was shooting rapids, so to speak, and by and by he +would be in still water again. For the present, he +had only time to tell himself that Claire was getting +on magnificently well. It was like driving four or +six restive horses abreast, with his wife seated at his +side. He must attend to the skittish brutes, as it +were; her safety, no less than his own, depended on +his good driving. But she was there at his side; +he felt comfortably sure of this fact, though he could +not turn and look at her half often enough.</p> + +<p>The January of this second winter had been prolific +in heavy snow-storms, and the sleighing had +filled town with its jocund tinkles. One afternoon +Claire, leaning back in a commodious sleigh, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +muffled to the throat in furry robes, stopped at Mrs. +Diggs's house, and the two ladies were driven together +into the Park. It was a perfect afternoon of +its kind. There was no wind; the cold was keen +but still; not a hint of thaw showed itself in the +banks of powdery snow skirting either edge of the +streets, or in those pure, unroughened lapses which +clad the spacious Park, beneath the black asperity +of winter trees, traced against a sky of steely blueness.</p> + +<p>Claire was in high spirits; her laugh had a ring +as clear as the weather. Mrs. Diggs shivered under +the protective wraps of the sleigh. "My circulation +was never meant for this sort of thing," she said, +at length. "We've gone far enough, haven't we, +Claire? It's nearly dark, too."</p> + +<p>This was a most glaring fallacy, coined by the +desperation of poor Mrs. Diggs's discomfort. But the +chilly light was growing a blue gloom above the +massed housetops when the two ladies found themselves +at Claire's door.</p> + +<p>It had been arranged that they should dine quietly +together that evening. Hollister would not be at +home, and Claire, for a wonder, would. Mrs. Diggs +had been complaining, of late, that she never had +a moment of privacy with her friend. Claire had +agreed, three days ago, to disappoint for one night +all who were seeking her society. "We shall have a +cosey dinner," she had said, "of just you and me. +We will chat of everything—past, present, and future."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs recalled that word 'cosey' as she entered +Claire's proud dining-room, with its lofty +arched ceiling, where little stars of gold gleamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +from dark interspaces between massive rafters of +walnut. She crouched on a soft rug beside the deep, +large fire-place, in which great logs were blazing. +And while she basked in the pleasant glow, her eye +wandered about the grave grandeurs of the noble +room, scanning its dusky traits of wainscot, tapestry, +tropic plants, or costly pictures: for all was in +sombre shadow except the reddened hearth and the +small central table, on whose white cloth two great +clusters of wax-lights had been set, stealing their +colors from a group of flowers, and its clean sparkle +from the glass and silver. The whole table was like +a spot of light amid the stately dimness.</p> + +<p>"Really, very splendid indeed, Claire," said Mrs. +Diggs, in a sort of ruminative ellipsis, letting her eye +presently rest on the tips of her own upheld fingers, +which the firelight had turned into that milky pink +that we often see float through opals. "But I really +think I liked the little basement house better, take +it all in all."</p> + +<p>"Did you?" murmured Claire, who was standing +near her, enjoying the warmth, but not bathing in it +like her half-frozen friend. "I didn't."</p> + +<p>A very impressive butler soon glided into the +room, and told Madame in French that she was +served. Mrs. Diggs scrambled to her feet; the majesty +of the butler had something to do with her +speed in performing this act, though hunger was perhaps +concerned in it.</p> + +<p>"That dreadful sleigh-ride has left me my appetite," +she said, while seating herself opposite Claire, +"so I see it hasn't quite killed me."</p> + +<p>"I think you will survive it," said Claire, with +one of her little musical laughs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was not much talk between the two friends +while dinner lasted, and what there was took a desultory +and aimless turn. The butler waited faultlessly; +there were eight courses; Claire had said that +it would be a very plain dinner, and Mrs. Diggs secretly +smiled as she remembered the words. The +cooking was perfect; it had all of what the <i>gourmets</i> +would call Parisian sentiment, though no undue richness. +Claire ate sparingly, yet with apparent relish. +She drank a little champagne, which she had poured +into a goblet and mixed with water. There were +other wines, but she touched none of them. Mrs. +Diggs did, however, sipping three or four, until she +lost her chalky wanness of tint and almost got a +touch of actual color.</p> + +<p>"I never take but one wine, as a rule," she said, +"and that's claret. But the sleigh-ride chilled me to +the bone. I begin to feel quite warm and comfortable, +now. Do you always take champagne, Claire?"</p> + +<p>"Always. But only a little. It's companionable +to touch your lips to, now and then, when you sit +through those very long dinners. I suppose the dullness +of certain society originally drove me to it. +But I am very careful."</p> + +<p>'What an air she said that with!' thought Mrs. +Diggs. 'And one year ago, at Coney Island, she was +unknown, unnoticed.'</p> + +<p>The whole repast was exquisite. While it lasted, +Claire never once spoke to the butler. He needed no +orders; everything was done as well and as silently as +it could be done. In his way he was an irreproachable +artist, like the invisible <i>chef</i> below stairs, who +had evoked this blameless dinner from the chaos of +the uncooked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> + +<p>Just at the end of dessert, Claire said to her guest: +"Shall you take coffee?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no," replied Mrs. Diggs; "I don't even +dare. I'm nervous enough as it is."</p> + +<p>But Claire had coffee, black as ink, and served to +her in a tiny cup as thin as a rose-leaf. Presently +the two friends became aware that they were alone. +The butler had gone without seeming to go. Like a +mysterious <i>au revoir</i> he had left behind him two crystal +finger-bowls, with a slim slice of lemon floating in +each. Claire had finished her coffee. She rose and +leaned toward the flowers in the centre of the table. +As her fingers played among them they seemed to +break, almost of their own accord, into two separate +bunches. She went round to Mrs. Diggs and gave +her one of these, retaining the other. Presently each +had made for herself an impromptu <i>corsage</i>. Mrs. +Diggs had not spoken for several minutes; she had +indeed been abnormally quiet ever since the butler's +departure. The calm, graceful splendor of it all had +awed her. It had such a finish, such a choiceness, +such gentle dignity of execution.</p> + +<p>"Shall we sit near the fire?" asked Claire, as together +they moved from the table. "Or would you +prefer one of the drawing-rooms?"</p> + +<p>"The fire is so lovely," said Mrs. Diggs. "Let's +sit here." She dropped into a chair as she spoke. +Claire also seated herself, not far from the fire, though +a little distance away from her friend.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the flood-gates of Mrs. Diggs's enthusiasm +burst open. She had considerable silence to +make up for. "Oh, Claire," she exclaimed, "it's +just <i>perfect!</i> I don't see how you do it! I don't see +where on earth you got the experience from! If I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +had seven times your money <i>I</i> couldn't begin to have +my household machinery move in this delightful, well-oiled +way. My servants would steal; my <i>chef</i> would +get drunk; my magnificence would all go awry; I'm +sure it would!"</p> + +<p>Claire laughed. "I'm very composed about it +all," she said. "I keep quite cool. I like it, too. +There is a great deal in that. I don't mean management +so much as the superintendence of others' management. +I'm a sort of born overseer."</p> + +<p>"You're a born leader." Mrs. Diggs was looking +at her very attentively now. "And how capably you +<i>are</i> leading! How you've carried your point, Claire! +I observe you, and absolutely marvel! I can't realize +that you are really and truly <i>my</i> Coney Island Claire, +don't you know? You've shot up so. You're so +mighty. It's like a dream."</p> + +<p>"It's a very pleasant dream."</p> + +<p>She said this archly and mirthfully. But Mrs. +Diggs on a sudden became solemn.</p> + +<p>"Claire," she went on, "you remember what I told +you in our little confab, the other day, at the Lauderdales' +reception? It's true, my dear. You're like a +person at a gambling-table, who begins to play for +pastime and ends by playing for greed. You know I +dote on you, and you know I never choose my words +when I'm in downright earnest. Your love for pomp +and luxury, my dear, is becoming a vice. Yes, an +actual vice. You don't take your triumphs moderately, +as you do your champagne-and-water. You +drink deep of them, and let them fly to your head. +Oh, I can see it well enough. And I tremble for you, +I tremble, Claire, because" ...</p> + +<p>"Well? Because?" ...<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> + +<p>She put these questions with a smile, as Mrs. Diggs +paused. But it was a smile of the lips only.</p> + +<p>"Oh, because affairs might change in a day, almost +an hour. You know just what vast risks your husband +constantly runs. You know what <i>might</i> happen."</p> + +<p>Claire rose at this. Her repose was gone; her +piquant excitability had seemed abruptly to return. +She did not appear in the least angry. Mrs. Diggs +would have liked it better if she had shown a wrathful +sign or two.</p> + +<p>"Don't let us talk of those grim matters, please," +she said. She came very close to her companion, and +then, taking both the latter's hands, sank down on +her knees. Her face was lit with a charming yet +restless cheerfulness. "Dear friend, you spoke a +minute ago of my triumphs. Do you know, I've +never secured just what I wanted until to-day? You +thought I had, but you were wrong. Shall I tell +you why?" Mrs. Diggs was inwardly thinking, as +one ill-favored but generous woman will sometimes +think of another, how purely enchanting was her +manner, and how richly she deserved to win the social +distinction she had attained.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean, Claire, that Hollister to-day +completed the last thousand of his fourth or fifth million, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all. I don't mean anything of the +sort. I don't know anything about Herbert's affairs, +nowadays. He keeps them all to himself."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"You'll laugh when you hear. You recollect the +great ladies' luncheon that I am to give next Friday?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course I do. I'm going to honor it."</p> + +<p>"And so are two others. Mrs. Van Horn and +Mrs. Ridgeway Lee. They have never honored anything +of mine until now. Poor Mrs. Arcularius +yielded, and bowed before me, long ago. My old +school-enemy, Ada Gerrard, more freckled, more arrogant, +more stupid than ever, is one of my most +willing allies. I had conquered them all, but I could +not conquer those two women. They stood aloof, +and their standing aloof was a perpetual distress."</p> + +<p>"Claire, Claire," exclaimed Mrs. Diggs, "you make +me wonder at you! What was the hostility of these +two women, whether open or repressed? You had +all the others to pay you court. Why should you +have cared? They saw your success. They are +powerful, but their power could not keep you from +asserting and maintaining yours. I repeat, why +should you care?"</p> + +<p>"I did care. But it is all over now." She rose to +her feet, with a full laugh, as she said these words. +"They are coming to my luncheon. They have both +accepted. They have acknowledged me. I have +forced them to do so."</p> + +<p>She uttered that last sentence with a mock fierceness +that ended in laughter. But she could not hide +from her friend the intense seriousness from which +these expressions had sprung.</p> + +<p>Before Mrs. Diggs could answer, a servant entered +the room by one of the draped doorways leading into +the <i>salons</i> beyond. He was not the butler, who had +so admirably served them at dinner, but a footman, +charged with other special offices. He handed Claire +a card, which she read and tossed aside. The next +moment she dismissed him by a slight motion of the +hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me see that card," said Mrs. Diggs. "Has +anybody called whom I know?"</p> + +<p>Claire was looking straight into the tumbled, lurid +logs of the hearth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know him, of course," she said. "It +was only Stuart Goldwin. I am not at home to-night. +Not to any one except you, I mean. I gave +orders."</p> + +<p>A silence ensued. Mrs. Diggs presently made one +of her plunges. "Claire, they say that Goldwin is +madly in love with you."</p> + +<p>She gave a sharp turn of the neck, fixing her eyes +on her friend's face. "That is <i>all</i> they say, I hope. +They can't say—well, you understand what they +can <i>not</i> say."</p> + +<p>"That you care for him? Well, no.... You +have been very discreet. You have arranged wonderfully. +Very few women could have done it with +the same nicety."</p> + +<p>Claire threw back her head, with a haughty, fleeting +smile. "Any woman could have done it who felt +safe—perfectly safe, as I feel."</p> + +<p>"You mean that this grand Goldwin, who sways +the stock-market, can't quicken your pulse by one +degree."</p> + +<p>She looked steadily at Mrs. Diggs. "I did not +say that I meant that. But I do, if you choose to +ask me point blank. We're very good friends. He +amuses me. I fancy that I amuse him. If I do more +he doesn't tell me so. He understands what would +happen if he did."</p> + +<p>She was staring at the fire again. Its lustres +played upon the silken folds of her dress, and made +the gold glimmers start and fade in her chestnut +hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs was not reclining in her chair; she was +leaning sideways, with both black eyes riveted on +Claire's half-averted face.</p> + +<p>"Claire," she said, "I'm so awfully glad to hear +you say that. It makes me like you better, if such +a thing were possible. Upon my word, to be frank, +in the most friendly way, I <i>did</i> think there was a +little danger, don't you know, of.... Well, you've +settled all doubts, of course. But then, my dear, you +never were enormously fond of Hollister. You let +him adore <i>you</i>, don't you know? Oh, I've seen it +all. There's no use in getting angry."</p> + +<p>"I'm not angry," said Claire. She was again +looking full at her friend. She had put one dainty-booted +foot on the low gilt trellis which rose between +the rug and the hearthstone. "We seem to drift +upon very unpleasant subjects this evening," she continued. +"I am afraid our little intimate reunion is +not going to be a success."</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> angry!" exclaimed Mrs. Diggs, reproachfully. +"You've changed, Claire. You're not +the same to me as you were before you became a +great lady. Now, don't deny it. You feel your oats, +as my dear Manhattan would say. You keep me at +a distance. You"—</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Diggs paused, for the same footman +who had before appeared now made a second entrance. +This time he handed Claire a note. "There +is no answer, Madame," he said in French, and at +once softly vanished.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said Claire, as she tore open the +envelope. Mrs. Diggs watched her while she read +the contents of the note. Her perusal took some +time. She read the three written pages once, twice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +thrice. Her face had grown very grave in the meanwhile.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she crumpled the note in one hand, and +flung it into the fire. Her eyes flashed and her lip +quivered as she did so.</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, Claire," appealed her friend, +"what <i>is</i> the matter? I suppose Cornelia or Sylvia +Lee sends a regret for luncheon. You are so foolish +to mind what they do! You recollect what I used +to tell you about Cornelia. But why should you +mind her airs and caprices now? You are utterly +above her—or rather, you have shown her that two +can reign in the same kingdom. You could cut her +dead with perfect impunity. That's a good deal to +say, don't you know, but you positively could!"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Claire, with a clouded face and a +little wave of the hand, "it has nothing to do with +either of those women. It is" ... here she paused, +and her breath came quick. "It is from Beverley +Thurston."</p> + +<p>"Beverley!" exclaimed Mrs. Diggs. "Why, he's +in Europe."</p> + +<p>"He got back yesterday. He has learned about +me. I suppose his sister has told him. And he +writes to me in a tone of impertinence. Yes, it's +nothing else. He writes to me as if I were some sinful +creature. He presumes to be sorry for me. He +says that he will pay me a visit if I can spare him an +hour from the giddy life I am leading.... I don't +remember the exact words he uses; it is not so much +what he writes as what he seems to write. The +whole note breathes of patronage and commiseration. +To <i>me!</i>—think of it! What right has he? +What right did I ever give him?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs started up from her chair. "Why, +my dear Claire," she said, "you are greatly excited!"</p> + +<p>"I am miserable!" cried Claire. She almost staggered +toward Mrs. Diggs, and flung both arms about +her friend's neck. "I am miserable—miserable!" +she went on, with a sudden paroxysm of tears. She +leaned her proud young head on Mrs. Diggs's bony +shoulder, beginning to sob quite wildly. "Do I deserve +reproaches? Have I been so wrong? What +evil have I done? Let my conscience trouble me if +it will, but <i>he</i> is not my conscience. How dare <i>he</i> +reproach me?"</p> + +<p>A violent seizure of sobs made Claire incapable of +further speech. Mrs. Diggs let the clinging arms +clasp her. She did not know what to answer; she +scarcely knew what to think. She only felt, at that +unexpected moment, that she loved Claire very much, +and would always stay her stanch friend, no matter +what bitter ill might overtake her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> Claire was descending into the lower hall, at +about four o'clock the next afternoon, she saw her +husband enter the house with his latch-key. She +quickened her step a little, and met him at the landing +of the stairs. They had not seen each other for +twenty-four hours; she had breakfasted in her room, +that morning, as was of late almost habitual with +her, and by the time that she left it he had been +driven away in his brougham. On the previous night +he had reached home long after she had retired to +bed. All this was no new thing. Its first and second +occurrence had shocked them both, as an unforeseen +result of their altered existence. But repetition +had set it securely among the commonplaces. They +accepted it, now, with a matter-of-course placidity.</p> + +<p>"I was going to the Vanvelsors' reception," Claire +said. "Did you think of dropping in?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Hollister. He had taken her +hand, and was holding it while he spoke. The next +moment he kissed her cheek, and soon let his eye +wander over the complex tastefulness of her attire. +He then drew her arm within his own, and led her +toward the near drawing-room, whose threshold they +crossed. Except his recorded monosyllable, he had +said nothing for an appreciable time, and Claire, regarding +his face with a sidelong glance, had already +detected there marked signs of worriment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," he presently continued, taking a seat on one +of the rich-clad sofas, and gently forcing her to sit +beside him. "I had no idea of going there. I don't +feel like anything gay, Claire. Things are doing +horribly on the Street. There's a dreadful squall. I +hope it will be only a squall, and soon blow over." +He then named a certain stock in which he had very +comprehensive interests. "It has dropped in the +most furious fashion," he proceeded. "Claire, I've +lost seventy thousand dollars to-day, if I've lost a +penny."</p> + +<p>He talked more technically of his ill-luck after that, +and told her what he believed to be the reason of the +adverse change. She listened with great attention. +She knew so much of Wall Street matters that she +scarcely missed a point in all that he explained.</p> + +<p>"So Goldwin is on the other side," she said, when +he had finished.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Goldwin is safe. But you can't tell what +to-morrow will bring. No one is really safe. Prices +are flying about. It's a shocking state of affairs."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing for you to do just now, is +there?" Claire asked, after a little pause.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I may get a few telegrams later. But +nothing serious will happen till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She laid her hand on his arm. She was more +alarmed and perplexed than she chose to show. "Then +come with me to the reception," she said; "you +might as well, Herbert. It is better than to brood +over the state of matters down there."</p> + +<p>He shook his head negatively. "I should make a +very bad guest," he replied. "Go yourself, Claire. +But remember one thing." He was looking at her +very fixedly; his frank blue eyes were full of a soft<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +yet assertive pain. "Our life may alter suddenly for +the worse. We may have to give up all this." He +waved one hand here and there, as though generalizing +the whole luxurious encompassment. "There is +no telling what <i>may</i> happen. I never felt the insecurity +of my career as I feel it now. Do you know, +Claire, that a few more such days as this may ruin +me?"</p> + +<p>"Ruin you?" she repeated.</p> + +<p>She was pale as those words left her lips. Hollister +had proposed to her a terrible possibility.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Claire, I mean it. Of course I am looking +at the worst that might happen. But I want to prepare +you."</p> + +<p>She rose, keeping her eyes on his. "I don't know +what I should do," she said, "if I lost what I have +now. I have grown used to it, Herbert. I won't +let myself think that it might pass away—that I +should be left without all these good and precious +things."</p> + +<p>As she spoke the last words he rose also, and caught +both her hands, looking eagerly into her face.</p> + +<p>"Claire," he exclaimed, "you <i>must</i> think of losing +it all! You <i>must</i> try to reconcile yourself with the +idea! If you don't, the ordeal will be all the harder +when it comes."</p> + +<p>"When it comes?" she again repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes—you see just how I stand. You have +grasped the whole wretched situation. Of course +there's a chance that I may right myself, but" ...</p> + +<p>"I'll take that chance," she broke in, quite forcibly +withdrawing her hands. "So will you, Herbert. +I prefer to look at it this way. We will both take +the chance."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hollister's face was full of reproach.</p> + +<p>"Claire!" he exclaimed. "I see that you love +this new life with a positive passion!"</p> + +<p>"I love it very much," she answered. "I love it +so much that I should suffer fearfully if I were turned +adrift from it.... Come, we will both go to the +Vanvelsors' reception."</p> + +<p>"No," replied Hollister. He walked away from +her. By her lack of sympathy she had dealt him a +cruel sting.</p> + +<p>"Very well," responded Claire, as she watched his +receding figure, "<i>I</i> am going."</p> + +<p>His back was turned to her, but he suddenly veered +round, facing her, and saying, with a bitter sharpness: +"Go, if you please! Go, and leave me to my +misery! If you cared for me in the right manner, +you would not want to go. You would want to stay +with me, and forget, for a while at least, the gay +crowds that admire and court you!"</p> + +<p>These words were utterly unexpected. He had +never before alluded to her lack of fondness. She +was embarrassed, ashamed. For a moment she could +not speak. Then she simulated an affronted demeanor; +it seemed her sole refuge. "I—I care for you as +much as I have always cared," she said. "No more +and no less."</p> + +<p>She moved toward the door at once, after thus +speaking. She wondered if he would seek to detain +her. He did not.... She entered her coupé very +soon afterward. During the drive to Mrs. Vanvelsor's +reception she had a keen remembrance of just +how Hollister had looked when her final gaze had +dwelt upon him. She knew that she had stung at +last into life the perception of how much he had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +giving and how little he had received. Her conscience +sternly smote her; she was more than once on the +verge of ordering that the vehicle should be driven +home again. But in her then mood any attempt at +amendment seemed wildly futile. What could she +say to her husband? That she deplored his possible +ruin? Yes; but not that such regret sprang from +the sweet sources of a wifely, unselfish love. She +could not regard the possibility of being flung downward +from her present high place with any unselfish +feeling. Mrs. Diggs had touched the living and sensitive +truth last night: her thirst for luxury had +grown a vice. Soft raiment, obsequious attendance, +a place of supreme social distinction, all these had +become vitally, imperiously needful to her happiness.</p> + +<p>It was not the sort of happiness which she believed +high or fine. She could most clearly conceive of +another, less fervid, less material, less intoxicating, +fraught with a spiritual incentive and an intellectual +meaning. But it was too late to dream of that now. +She had taken the bent; she must have power or +nothing. She regarded the idea of being obscure +and with straitened funds as a calamity simply horrible. +Hollister must think her cruel as death; that +was inevitable. She did not blame him for blaming +her. She blamed herself for having married him +with loveless apathy. His reproachful words haunted +her—but what could she do? He wanted genuine +tenderness, sympathy, fortifying cheer. But he +wanted these from an impulse of which her heart +had always been incapable. Fate was avenging itself +upon her. She had tampered with holy things. +Her marriage oath had been a mockery. Could she +go back and tell him this? Could she go back and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> +lie to him, feign before him? No; best that she +should not go back at all.</p> + +<p>The reception was a great crush. But they seemed +to make way for her with a sort of obeisance. No +one jostled against her; they all appeared to give +her a little elbow-room in the throng, while they +either bowed or stared. She was secretly agonized. +She smiled and spoke as effectively as usual; she +held her court among them all, as of late she had +invariably held it. But her heart was sick; she was +besieged by a portentous dread, and she was pierced +with that self-contempt whose length of thrust is +measured by a consciousness of how far the being we +might have become surpasses the being that we are. +While she stood the centre of a small, courtly group, +a gentleman softly pushed his way into her notice +and held out his hand. She took the hand, and +looked well into the face of him who had extended +it. The new-comer was Beverley Thurston. As +Claire looked she swiftly noted that his familiar face +wore marked signs of change. He had distinctly +aged. The gray at his temples had grown grayer; +the crows'-feet under his hazel eyes were a little +more apparent; perhaps, too, his gravity of manner +was more clearly suggested by a first glance. At +the same time she felt herself regarding him in a +new light and by the aid of amplified experience. +She silently and fleetly made him stand a test, so +to speak, and at once decided that he stood it well. +She had met no man since they had parted who bespoke +high-breeding and gentility with more immediate +directness.</p> + +<p>"I thought I should find you here," he said, as +their hands dropped apart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you come on that account?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Not entirely, because I had great fears of not being +able to do more than watch you from a distance."</p> + +<p>"Ah," she said, with a pretty graciousness, and +loud enough for all the others to hear, "you have an +excellent claim upon me—that of old acquaintance."</p> + +<p>Her surrounders felt that there was either dismissal +or desertion waiting for them. She managed to +make it promptly plain that her favoring heed had +been wholly transferred to Thurston; she showed it +to them with a cool boldness which they would have +resented with resolves of future neglect if indulged +in by many another woman present; for they were +all men who put a solid worth upon their courtesies, +and had a fastidious reluctance ever to be charged +with sowing them broadcast.</p> + +<p>But Claire had long ago learned that the security +of her reign depended upon an occasional open proof +of how she herself trusted its power. She had guessed +the peril of continuing monotonously clement. To +talk with Thurston now interested her more than +any other conversational project. It was not long +before she had slipped her hand into his arm, and +was saying, as they moved through the crowd:—</p> + +<p>"If you care to go into the conservatory, we shall +find it much pleasanter there, I think."</p> + +<p>The house was one of those new and majestic +structures near the Park. It occupied a corner, +sweeping far backward from Fifth Avenue into an +adjacent street. It had an almost imperial amplitude, +and was a building in which no lordly or pleasurable +detail seemed to have been overlooked. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> +conservatory, whose spacious interior wooed through +breadths of glass its kindest warmth from the churlish +winter sunshine, was of refreshing temperature +after the heated rooms beyond, while its masses of +leafing or blooming plants loaded the air with delightful +odors.</p> + +<p>A few people were strolling about the cool courts, +as Claire and Thurston now entered them. The entertainment +of to-day was a kind of house-warming; +the Vanvelsors, in current metropolitan phrase, were +old people, but their present mansion was new in a +decisive sense; they had migrated hither from a residence +in Bond Street, where they had dwelt for forty +years or more. The push of the younger generation, +left with inherited millions, had thus architecturally +asserted itself. Few of their guests knew the ways +of their changed and palatial home. But Claire +knew them; she had dined in this imposing abode +not less than a fortnight ago. There were many +bearers of precious Dutch names who had known the +Vanvelsors for many decades; but Claire had been +preferred to hosts of these nice-lineaged legitimists. +She was the fashion; other people were paying homage +to her; the younger Vanvelsors liked everything +that was the fashion; they had paid homage, too.</p> + +<p>"We can find a seat," Claire said to her companion; +"the place is not full, as you see; we might +sit yonder, in those two vacant chairs—that is, if +you care to sit; I do; I am tired."</p> + +<p>It was not until they were both seated, with glossy +tropical leaves touching their heads, that Thurston +answered:—</p> + +<p>"You say you are tired. That might mean a little +or a great deal. Which does it mean?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire responded with a question, looking at him +fixedly.</p> + +<p>"Why did you write me that letter?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Did it offend you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No and yes. You might not have reproached +me until you knew more of the real truth."</p> + +<p>Thurston stroked his gray mustache. "I think +I knew all the truth," he said. "I know it now, at +least."</p> + +<p>"Your sister has told you," Claire retorted, with +speed.</p> + +<p>"Yes and no," he responded, not mocking her own +recent words, yet leaving a distinct impression that +he had half repeated them. "You forget that I have +seen you reigning on your new throne."</p> + +<p>"Let us be candid," said Claire. "Your note was +almost a sneer."</p> + +<p>He slowly shook his head. "It was a regret."</p> + +<p>"You think I might have done greater things."</p> + +<p>"I think you might have done better things."</p> + +<p>"You admit that I have achieved success?"</p> + +<p>"A marvelous success. It shows your extraordinary +gifts. The town, in a certain way, is ringing +with your name. If an ordinary woman had gained +your place she would have found in it a splendid +gratification. She would have been amply, perfectly +satisfied."</p> + +<p>"You mean that I am not satisfied. Pray allow +it. Your tones and your look both show it me."</p> + +<p>Thurston smiled, transiently and sadly. "I mean +that you are miserable," he said.</p> + +<p>Claire bit her lip, and slightly drooped her head. +"You have no cause to tell me that."</p> + +<p>He leaned closer to her. "I do tell you. It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +true. I saw it in your face when I first looked at +you. There is a change. I can't define it, but it +exists. You are more beautiful than when I saw you +last. You have an air of ease, dignity, command. +But you express a kind of superb weariness, and yet +occasional flashes of excitement are in your talk and +demeanor. You see, I have watched you from a distance; +I have my opinions."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have your opinions," said Claire, lifting +her head and directly regarding him. "That is very +plain."</p> + +<p>"It all makes an exquisite picture," Thurston +continued. "I have seen the world, as you know. +I have seen many beautiful women. Your personality, +as I now encounter it, is an absolute astonishment +to me. I don't know where, in these few +months, you acquired your repose, your serenity, +your magnificence, your air. Do you remember +what I told you of the restless American type that +you represent? I knew you would strive to rise; it +was in you; you pushed to the front, as I was sure +you would do. But I had no prescience of this +mighty accomplishment."</p> + +<p>"You are sneering at me, as your note sneered," +said Claire, looking at him steadily. "Acknowledge +it. I perceive it with great accuracy. I somehow +cannot answer you as I would answer another. You +warned me months ago. You knew what I desired, +and told me of the danger that lay in my path. I +recollect all that you wanted me to try and be. Perhaps +I <i>would</i> have tried, under differing conditions."</p> + +<p>She paused, and Thurston instantly said, "As my +wife you would have tried—and succeeded."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she answered, very low of tone, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> +meeting his look. "But all that is past. Don't pull +corpses out of graves."</p> + +<p>"My love for you is living," he said to her. There +was no touch of passion in his voice; there was only +a mournful respect. "I don't think I am wrong to +speak of it now. There's a sanctity and chastity +about the feeling I bear for you which the fact of +your being a wife does not affect. I want to know +the man whom you have married; I am curious to +meet him and know him well. He has a large publicity, +as you are aware. They have heard of him in +Europe."</p> + +<p>"I understand the question you wish to put yet do +not," Claire said, at this point. "You lead up to it +very adroitly; I might play the rôle of ignorant innocence, +if I chose. But I do not choose. You want +to ask me whether I loved the man I married."</p> + +<p>Thurston again stroked his mustache, for a moment. +"Yes," he presently said, "I should like to +know that."</p> + +<p>A silence now ensued between them. Claire broke +it. "He loved me," she said.</p> + +<p>"Which means that you did not care for him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I cared very much. It was no worldly +sale of myself. He was not even rich when I married +him. He attracted me—in a manner charmed +me. I felt that I should never meet another man +who would attract and charm me more. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Thoroughly.... Since then you have met +Stuart Goldwin. I know him well. He is a man of +exceptional fascination. They tell me that he is +your slave."</p> + +<p>"Do they?" said Claire, coloring under this rapid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> +attack of candor. "Well, if he is my slave—which +I, of course, deny—then I am not his. They did +not tell you that, I am sure. They did not even +hint it."</p> + +<p>"No. You have escaped the least breath of scandal."</p> + +<p>"Be sure that I have. And I shall continue to +escape it. I recollect that you once declared I was +cold, and that my coldness would prove a safeguard. +'It is very protective to a woman,' you said."</p> + +<p>"Quote me in full or not at all," he corrected, with +a grim pleasantry. "I said that it is very protective +to a woman—while it lasts."</p> + +<p>"True," returned Claire. "And it <i>has</i> lasted. I +prophesied that it would last, and I was right.... +By the way, from whom have you learned all these +important items? Perhaps from your sister. She is +not my friend."</p> + +<p>Thurston started a little. "She is not your +enemy?" he said, putting the words as a distinct +question.</p> + +<p>"I hope not. But I am by no means sure. Thus +far she has held herself aloof from me. She has not +openly opposed me, but she has behaved with telling +reserve. Everybody else has paid me tribute, so to +speak. No, I am wrong. There is one other woman—her +cousin, Mrs. Lee."</p> + +<p>"Of course you know why poor Sylvia would be +your foe. She is madly in love with Goldwin; she +has been for years. You must have cost her dire +pangs."</p> + +<p>Claire chose to ignore this last statement. "I +think your sister dislikes me from pride," she said. +"I mean pride of family." Here she paused for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +moment, and seemed almost bashfully reluctant to +proceed. But her hesitation had in it a gentle, unassuming +modesty; it sprang wholly from unwillingness +to touch on a subject which she knew that only +the most delicate tact should deal with, if to deal +with it at all were not folly and rashness. "Your +sister found out," she softly continued, "that you +had liked me enough to ask me to be your wife. +Heaven knows, Beverley Thurston, that <i>I</i> did not +tell her!"</p> + +<p>Thurston looked very grave. "I told her," he +said. "Or rather, she drew it from me. I was foolish +to let her. Cornelia is so clever.... Well," he +suddenly went on, with an unusual show of animation, +"do you mean that she accused you of having rejected +me?"</p> + +<p>"She did not put it in the form of an accusation. +She stated it. Wait; I will tell you more; I will +tell when, where, and how it all happened."</p> + +<p>Claire did so. He listened with deep attention. +She narrated the whole episode of her well-remembered +conversation with his sister in the dining-room +at the Coney Island hotel.</p> + +<p>"Ah, what a woman that sister of mine is!" he +exclaimed, in his subdued way, as Claire finished. +"I must talk with her. I dine there to-night. I +will find out if this knowledge has been at the root +of her late behavior."</p> + +<p>Claire laid her gloved hand lightly on his sleeve. +"I think it best to say nothing. I feel that you are +my friend—always my friend. As such you will +more discreetly let matters rest where they are."</p> + +<p>"Let matters rest where they are?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes." Her face broke into a smile as she spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +the next words. "Mrs. Van Horn—the great Mrs. +Van Horn—has withdrawn her disapprobation. The +day after to-morrow she and Mrs. Lee lunch with me. +It is a ladies' lunch. You have no idea how monstrously +important an event her attendance is to be. +It is my crowning glory. After that I shall have no +more worlds to conquer. She is actually coming; I +have it in her own graceful handwriting. Frankly, +I am quite serious. If you had followed affairs, if +you hadn't been off in Europe for months, you would +understand the momentous nature of your sister's acceptance."</p> + +<p>Claire rose as she ended her last sentence. The +conservatory was quite empty of guests; the waning +winter sunlight told of the hour for departure. "It +is time to go," she now continued. "Remember, +whenever you come to me you will be welcome. I +shall be at the opera to-night. Drop into my box if +you get away from your sister's dinner before ten, +and feel like hearing some music."</p> + +<p>Thurston replied that he would certainly do so. +But, as it happened, he partially failed to keep his +promise. Mrs. Van Horn's dinner was attended by +several guests. He wanted to talk with his sister, +and it was somewhat late before he found the desired +opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Did you enjoy it, Beverley?" said his hostess, referring +to the dinner. They were in the front drawing-room +together. Thurston had seated himself near +the fire-place, in a big chair of gilded basket-work +with soft plush cushions. He was playing with a +small locket at his waistcoat, and his look did not +lift itself from the bauble as Mrs. Van Horn spoke. +She came near his chair and stood at his side for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> +moment. She had been giving her servants a few +orders relative to the morrow. She looked very well +that evening. The color of her gown was a sort of +tea-rose pink, and she wore a collar of large pearls +about her throat, and ornaments of pearls in her +blonde hair. While her brother was answering, she +dropped in a chair quite near his own.</p> + +<p>"I thought it about as successful as your dinners +always are," he said. "Everything went off to perfection, +of course.... No, I forget; there was one +drawback. A serious one."</p> + +<p>"What was it?"</p> + +<p>"Sylvia Lee."</p> + +<p>"You never could endure Sylvia," said Mrs. Van +Horn, in her grand, cool, suave way.</p> + +<p>"I think her abominable," replied Thurston. +"Her affectations irritate and depress me. They +appear to grow with age, too. She behaved more +like a contortionist than ever, to-night. But it is not +only the wretched, sensational bad taste of her poses +and costumes. It is a conviction that she is as treacherous +as the serpent she resembles. And then her +religious attitudinizing ... has she got over that +yet? I suppose not."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn, who would sharply have resented +these biting comments if any lips but her brother's +had delivered them, now answered with only a faint +touch of petulance. "You will never believe any +good of Sylvia, so it is useless to tell you how unjust +I consider your opinions. But she is more passionately +absorbed in charities and religious devotion +than ever before. If you could see some of the people +whom she goes among, and whom she has constantly +visiting her in her own house, you would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +forced to grant that the shallow hypocrisy with +which you charge her is a most sincere and active +almsgiving."</p> + +<p>"Say notorious, too. She's a Pharisee to the tips +of her fingers. I should like to know of one good +deed that she has ever performed in secret. She +parades her piety and her benevolence just as she +does her newest fantasies in dressmaking. She thinks +them picturesque. She would rather die than not be +picturesque, and I believe that when she does die she +will make some <i>ante-mortem</i> arrangements about an +abnormal coffin. It's a marvel to me that Stuart +Goldwin should have put up with her nonsense as +long as he did.... By the way, how does she stand +his desertion?"</p> + +<p>"Has he deserted her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, now, Cornelia, you know quite well +that he has." Thurston was looking directly at his +sister for the first time since their interview had begun.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn gave a light, soft laugh.</p> + +<p>"You mean for Mrs. Hollister, Beverley?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do."</p> + +<p>"I see that you have picked up some precious bits +of gossip since you got back." He was watching her +very closely, and perceived, knowing her as scarcely +any one else knew her, that a severe annoyance dwelt +beneath those last words. She slightly tossed her +delicate head. "You are so relentless with poor +Sylvia that I naturally don't want to feed the fuel +of your disapprobation. Well, then, let me admit +that Goldwin <i>is</i> devoted to your former friend."</p> + +<p>"Say my present friend, if you please, Cornelia."</p> + +<p>He saw a little gleam, like that of lit steel, creep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> +into her pale-blue eyes. "Oh, then you still call her +that?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly. Should I withdraw my friendship +because she refused to marry me when I was +old enough to be her father? On the contrary, I +am liberal enough to applaud her good sense."</p> + +<p>"Beverley," exclaimed his sister, in tones of harsh +disgust, "how can you show so little self-respect?"</p> + +<p>He saw that she had grown pale with anger. He +set his eyes upon her face with a fresh intentness of +gaze. He had a distinct object in view, and he was +determined, if possible, to reach it. He leaned much +closer toward her while he said, in slow, deliberative +tones:—</p> + +<p>"My self-respect, or lack of it, is quite my own +affair. Pray understand that. You never forgave +Claire Twining for refusing me, Cornelia. You need +not attempt to deceive me there. I repeat, you never +forgave her. Your pride would not allow you."</p> + +<p>Her voice shook as she answered him. She was +bitterly distressed and agitated. He had touched an +old wound, but one which had not healed. She loved +him as she had never loved any other man. He was +part of herself; his blood was hers; he belonged to +the egotism which was her ruling quality. Her +speech now betrayed neither wrath nor disgust; it +was full of mournful dismay. The times in her life +had been rare when her glacial composure had shown +such excessive disturbance.</p> + +<p>"I concede, Beverley, that it hurt me very deeply +to realize your humiliation. It seemed to me then, +as it seems to me now, that a girl of her class should +have been glad to marry a man of your place and +name. What was she? And what were and are +<i>you</i>?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pshaw! I was and am an elderly, faded old fellow."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn rose from her chair. She was visibly +trembling. "You could have given that adventuress +a position far more stable than she holds now, +as the wife of a lucky stock-gambler!"</p> + +<p>Thurston remained seated. "You call her an adventuress," +he said, "and yet you visit her—you +put her on a social equality with yourself."</p> + +<p>During the vigilant scrutiny with which he accompanied +these words, Mrs. Van Horn's brother decided +that in all his experience of her he had never seen +her show such perturbation as now.</p> + +<p>"People acknowledge her," she said, a little +hoarsely. "I have never been to her entertainments. +I have never accepted her, so to speak. If +you inquire, you will find this to be true. It is current +talk, my reserve, my disapproval."</p> + +<p>He shot his answer with quiet speed, meaning that +it should hit and tell. "You are going to the lunch +that she gives on Friday. I happen to be certain of +this—unless you have had the wanton rudeness to +write her that you would go, while meaning to remain +away." He rose as he spoke the last word. +Brother and sister faced each other. There was a +tranquil challenge in Thurston's full and steady gaze.</p> + +<p>She recoiled a little. "I—well, yes—I did intend +to go," she replied, below her breath, and actually +stammering.</p> + +<p>"What is your reason for going," he questioned, +"if you despise and dislike her so?"</p> + +<p>She threw back her head; her self-possession had +returned, and with it a stately indignation.</p> + +<p>"You are insolent," she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thurston broke into a hard laugh.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he exclaimed, "I am insolent to the great +lady because I detect her on the verge of some petty +revenge! Oh, I know you too well, my dear sister," +he went on, with stern irony. "You can't rebuff me +in that way. There is something behind this fine +condescension. Sylvia Lee and you have been putting +your heads together. Your revenge and her +jealousy will make a rather dangerous alliance. You +are both going to the lunch. You are both employing +a new line of tactics. What does it mean? I +demand to know. I have a right to know."</p> + +<p>He was very impressive, yet his voice was hardly +raised above that of ordinary speech. She had always +admired his gravity and calm; he had been for +years her ideal and model gentleman; she hated excitement +of any sort, and to see it in him gave her a +positive feeling of awe.</p> + +<p>"Beverley," she murmured, half brokenly, "remember +that if I had any thought of punishment toward +the woman who trifled with you and humbled +you, it has been because I am your sister—because +I was fond of you—because" ...</p> + +<p>He interrupted her with a quick, waving gesture +of the hand. "You talk insanely," he said. "She +neither trifled with me nor humbled me. I was a +fool even to tell you how sensibly she acted. What +you call your fondness is nothing but your miserable +pride. I see clearly that you have some detestable +plan. Do you refuse to tell me what it is?—me, +who have the right to learn it!"</p> + +<p>Every trace of color had left her cheeks, and she +was biting her lips. There was very little of the +great lady remaining in her mien or visage, now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have twice spoken of your right," she faltered. +"On what is such a right based? How can +you possibly possess it? You are nothing to her. +You are neither her husband nor"—</p> + +<p>"I am her lover," he broke in. "I am her lover, +reverent, devout, loyal, and shall be while we both +live! She is the most charming woman I have ever +met. I met her too late, or she would be my wife +now. It was not her fault that she refused me. She +is not a bit to blame. Good Heavens! have I the +monstrous arrogance to assume that she should have +married an old fossil like myself because I was of a +little importance in the world? No, Cornelia, that +preposterous assumption belongs to you. It is just +like you. And you call it love—sisterly love. I +call it the very apex of intolerable pride. But admit +for the moment that it is I and not yourself +whom you care for. Will you tell me, on that account, +what it is you mean or meant to do?"</p> + +<p>Before he had finished, Mrs. Van Horn had sunk +into a chair and covered her face with both hands. +Her sobs presently sounded, violent and rapid. In +these brief seconds she was shedding more tears than +had left her cold eyes for many years past.</p> + +<p>"I mean to do nothing—nothing!" she answered, +with a gasp almost like that which leaves us when in +straits for breath.</p> + +<p>"Do you give me your sacred promise," he said, +"that this is true?"</p> + +<p>The words appeared to horrify her. She looked +at him with streaming eyes, while a positive shudder +shook her frame.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Beverley, what degradation this seems to +me! Degradation of <i>yourself</i>! You may call me as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> +proud as you choose. It is no insult. It is a compliment, +even. I am proud of <i>being</i> proud. I had +never given up hope that you would marry some +woman of good birth, good antecedents, your equal +and mine—young enough, too, to bear you children. +I am childless, myself—how I would have loved +your children! Their own mother would not have +loved them more. Every penny of my large fortune +should have gone to them. This has been my dream +for years past, and now you shatter it by telling me +that an upstart, a parvenu, a nobody from nowhere, +holds you ensnared beyond escape!"</p> + +<p>Thurston was not at all touched. This outburst, +so uncharacteristic and so unexpected, did not bear +for him a grain of pathos. He saw behind it nothing +save an implacable selfishness that chose to misname +itself affection. The ambition of Claire saddened +him to contemplate; it had so rich a potentiality for +its background. He was forever seeing the true and +wise woman that she might have been. Even the +nettles in her soil flourished with a certain beauty of +their own, proving its fertile resources if more wholesome +growths had taken root there. But in Cornelia +Van Horn's nature all was barren and arid. The +very genuineness of her present grief was its condemnation. +Her tears were as chilly to him as the light +of her bravest diamonds; they had something of the +same hard sparkle; she wept them only from her +brain, as it were; her heart did not know that she +was shedding them.</p> + +<p>"The bitter epithets which you apply to my <i>ensnarer</i>," +he said, with a momentary curve of the lips +too austere to be termed a smile, "make me the +more suspicious that you harbor against her designs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +of practical spite. I want your promise that you will +refrain from the least active injury—that you will +never use the great social power you possess, either +by speech or deed, to her disadvantage. Do you give +me this promise, or do you refuse it? If the latter, +everything is at an end between us. The monetary +trusts you have consigned to me shall be at once +transferred to whatever lawyer you may appoint as +their recipient, and from to-night henceforward we +meet as total strangers."</p> + +<p>"A quarrel between you and me, Beverley!" said +his sister, trying to choke back her sobs, and rising +with a cobweb handkerchief pressed in fluttered alternation +to either humid eye. "A family quarrel! +And I have been so guarded—so careful that the +world should hold us and our name in perfect esteem!—Oh, +it is horrible!"</p> + +<p>"I did not infer that it would be pleasant," he answered. +"You yourself have power to avert or bring +it about. All remains with yourself."</p> + +<p>"I—I must make you a promise," she retorted, +in what would have been, if louder, a peevish wail, +"just as though I had really intended some—some +gross, revengeful act! You—you are ungentlemanly +to impose such a condition! You—you are +out of your senses! That creature has bewitched +you!"</p> + +<p>He saw her eye, tearful though it was, quail before +his own narrowed and penetrating look. He +felt his suspicion strengthen within him.</p> + +<p>"I do impose the condition," he said, perhaps more +determinedly than he had yet spoken. "I do exact +the promise. Now decide, Cornelia. There is no +hard threat on my part, remember. You don't like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> +the idea of an open rupture with me, you don't think +it would be respectable; it would make a little mark +on your ermine—a <i>défaut de la cuirasse</i>, so to +speak. But your beloved world would possibly side +with you and against me; you would not lose a supporter; +you would still remain quite the grand personage +you are. Only, I should never darken your +doors again; that is all. Come, now, be good enough +to decide."</p> + +<p>She sank into her seat once more; her eyes had +drooped themselves; the tears were standing on her +pale cheeks. "I did not know you had it in you to +be so cruel," she said, uttering the words with apparent +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I always knew that you had it in +you," he returned. "Come, if you please.... +Your answer."</p> + +<p>"You—you mean my promise?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Your faithful and solemn promise. We +need not go over its substance again. If you break +it after giving it I shall not reproach you; I shall +simply act. You understand how; I have told you."</p> + +<p>She was silent for some time. She had got her +handkerchief so twisted between her fingers that they +threatened to tear its frail fabric.</p> + +<p>Without raising her eyes, and in a voice that was +very sombre but had lost all trace of tremor, she at +length murmured:—</p> + +<p>"Well, I promise faithfully. I will do nothing—say +nothing. My conduct shall be absolutely neutral—null. +Are you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Entirely," he said.</p> + +<p>He at once left her. He reached the opera just as +it was ending. Claire, in the company of two ladies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +and two gentlemen, and attended by Goldwin, was +leaving her box when he contrived to find her. Hollister +had purchased one of the larger proscenium +boxes some time ago; he had given a great price for +it to an owner who could not resist the princely terms +offered.</p> + +<p>"You are very late," Claire said, giving him her +hand, while Goldwin, standing behind her, dropped a +great fur-lined cloak over her shoulders, and hid the +regal costliness of her dress, with its laces, flowers, +and jewels. "Have you been dining with your sister +all this time, or were you here for the last act, but +talking with older friends elsewhere?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Thurston, who had already exchanged +a nod of greeting with Goldwin. He lowered +his voice so that Claire alone could hear it. "I +arrived but a few minutes ago. I have been talking +seriously with my sister. You were quite right. She +has withdrawn her disapprobation. You have conquered +her, as you conquer everybody."</p> + +<p>He saw the faint yet meaning flash that left her +dark-blue eyes, and he read clearly, too, the significance +of her bright smile, as she said:—</p> + +<p>"Ah, you reassure me. For I had my doubts; I +confess it, now."</p> + +<p>"So had I," he returned. "But they are at rest +forever, as I want yours to be." ...</p> + +<p>At an early hour, the next morning, Mrs. Van +Horn surprised her friend and kinswoman, Mrs. +Ridgeway Lee, in the latter's pretty and quaint +<i>boudoir</i>, that was Japanese enough, as regarded hangings +and adornments, to have been the sacred retreat +of some almond-eyed Yeddo belle.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee had had her coffee, and was deep in one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> +of Zola's novels when her friend was announced. Her +coupé would appear at twelve, and take her to a certain +small religious hospital of which she was one of +the most assiduous patrons; but she always read +Zola, or some author of a similar Gallic intensity, +while she digested her coffee.</p> + +<p>She had concealed the novel, however, by the time +that Mrs. Van Horn had swept her draperies between +the Oriental jars and screens.</p> + +<p>"I have come to talk with you about that affair—that +plan, Sylvia," said her visitor, dropping into +a chair.</p> + +<p>"You mean ... to-morrow, Cornelia?"</p> + +<p>"Yes.... By the way, have you seen the morning +papers?"</p> + +<p>"I glanced over one of them—the 'Herald,' I +think. It said, in the society column, that I wore +magenta at the Charity Ball last night. As if I +would disgrace myself with that hideous color! These +monsters of the newspapers ought to be suppressed +in some way."</p> + +<p>"You didn't think so when they described your +flame-colored plush gown so accurately last Tuesday. +However, you deserve to be ridiculed for going to +those vulgar public balls."</p> + +<p>"But this was for charity, and"—</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. Don't let us talk of it. If you had +read the paper more closely you would have seen the +statement, given with a great air of truth, that Herbert +Hollister's millions are flowing away from him at +a terrible rate, and that to-night may see him almost +ruined."</p> + +<p>"How dreadful!" said Mrs. Lee, in her slow way, +but noticeably changing color.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn gave a high, hard laugh. "Of +course you are sorry."</p> + +<p>"Sorry!" softly echoed Mrs. Lee, uncoiling herself +from one peculiar pose on the yellow-and-black +lounge where she was seated, and gently writhing +into another. "Of course I am sorry, Cornelia. Although +you must grant that <i>she</i> merits it. To desert +her poor, ignorant, miserable mother! To run away +and leave her own flesh and blood in starvation!" +Here Mrs. Lee heaved an immense sigh. "Ah, +Providence finds us all out, sooner or later! If that +wicked woman's sin is punished by her husband's +ruin, who shall say that she has not richly deserved +it? But in spite of this, Cornelia dear, <i>our</i> stroke of +punishment will not be too severe. With regard to +my own share in our coming work, I feel that I am +to be merely the instrument—the humble instrument—of +Heavenly justice itself!"</p> + +<p>"No doubt," replied Mrs. Van Horn, with frigid +dryness. "But you must do it all alone to-morrow, +Sylvia. I have come to tell you so. I can have no +part whatever in the proceeding. However it is carried +out—whether you bring Mrs. Hollister face to +face with her plebeian parent or no, I shall be absent. +It is true, I accepted for the lunch. But I shall be +ill at the last moment. I withdraw from the whole +ingenious plot. I shan't see the little <i>coup de théâtre</i> +at all. I wish that I could. You know I have never +forgiven the refusal of Beverley any more than you +have forgiven ... well, something else, my dear Sylvia. +But I must remain aloof; it is settled; there is +no help for it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee opened her big black eyes very wide indeed. +"Have you lost your senses, Cornelia?" she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> +queried, with her grotesque, unfailing drawl. "What! +After my wonderful meeting with Mrs. Twining at +the hospital! After your exultant conclusion that we +had far better fix the stigma of ingratitude and desertion +upon her shameless daughter with as much +publicity as possible! After our talks, our arrangements, +our anticipations! After all this, you are <i>not +going to-morrow</i>! I don't understand. I am sure +that I must be dreaming!"</p> + +<p>"Let me explain, then," said Mrs. Van Horn, with +a quiver in her usually serene tones that was a residue +of last evening's dramatic defeat and surrender. +"For once in my life, Sylvia, I—I have found my +match, I have failed to hold my own, I have been +ignominiously beaten. And the victor is my own +brother, Beverley."</p> + +<p>She went on speaking for some time longer, with +no actual interruption on the part of her companion, +though with very decided signs of consternation and +disapproval.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cornelia, it is too bad!" exclaimed Mrs. Lee, +when the recital was finished. "He couldn't have +meant that he would cut his own sister! What <i>is</i> +to be done? Well, I suppose it must all be given +up. And it would have been such a triumph! And +she deserves it so—running away from her own +mother whom she had always hated and disobeyed! +We have that poor, horrid, common, but pitiable +Mrs. Twining's own word for it, you know. And +she would have been such a magnificent spectre at +the banquet! She would have risen up like Banquo, +ill-dressed, haggard, rheumatic, pathetic. Everybody +would have denounced this unnatural daughter +when they saw the meeting. I can't realize<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> +that you, <i>you</i> could let it all be nipped in the +bud!"</p> + +<p>"It isn't all nipped in the bud, Sylvia," said Mrs. +Van Horn, sharply.</p> + +<p>"But it <i>is</i>! Why isn't it? You certainly don't +expect me to carry it out alone?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Van Horn decisively nodded. "Yes, Sylvia," +she answered, "that is just the point. I do expect +you to carry it out alone. You are clever enough, +quite clever enough, and" ... Here the speaker +paused for a moment, and then crisply, emphatically +added: "And after all is said, remember one thing. +It is this: You have a much larger debt to pay her +than I have."</p> + +<p>A malign look stole into Mrs. Lee's black eyes. +She was thinking of Stuart Goldwin. She was thinking +of the man whom she had passionately loved—whom +she passionately loved still.</p> + +<p>"I believe you are right, Cornelia," she at length +replied, in her usual protracted and lingering style. +She had got herself, as she spoke, into one of her +most involved and tortuous attitudes; she had never +looked more serpentine than now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Claire</span> felt, on this same day, like casting about +in her mind for some pretext by which she might +postpone her grand luncheon on the morrow. She +had passed a sleepless night, having gone to bed without +seeing Hollister. In the morning she had avoided +meeting him. She had no comfort to administer, no +reparation to offer. The mask had been stripped +from her face; the comedy had been played to its +end. She had a sense of worthlessness, depravity, +sin. At the same time she recklessly told herself +that no atonement was in her power. A woful weakness, +which took the form of a woful strength, over-mastered +her as the hours grew older. Her thirst +for new excitements deepened with her misery and +anxiety. But she sat in her dressing-room or paced +the floor till past three in the afternoon. There +were numberless people whom she might have visited; +there were several receptions that afternoon at which +her presence would have been held important by +their respective givers. Even the known jeopardy of +her husband's position would have heightened the +value of her appearance, adding to her popularity the +spice of curiosity as well.</p> + +<p>More than once she said to herself: 'I will go to +one of these places. I will show them how quietly I +bear the strain. If by to-morrow no crash has come,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> +they will admire my nerve and courage. For if I +once went, they should never discover a trace of +worriment or suspense. I think the fact of my being +closely watched would even make me talk better +and smile brighter. The wear and tear of the whole +thing might make me forget a little, too. And I +want so to forget, if I can!'</p> + +<p>But she did not go. The morning papers lay on a +near table. She had read every word that they had +to tell her of the fierce financial turmoil. Some of +the stern figures they quoted made her heart flutter +with affright; some of their ominous and snarling +editorials wrought an added discomfort.</p> + +<p>If Hollister weathered the storm, she decided, all +would remain as it had been before. Or, if not precisely +that, the general outward effect would continue +quite the same. She would shine among her courtiers; +she would dazzle and rule. He would feel his +wound, now that he knew the pitiless truth of her +indifference, but he would make the engrossing ventures +of his business-life drown its pain until this had +perhaps ceased forever. They would drift further +apart than they had ever done in recent months, but +to the eye of the world there would be no severance. +It was possible that he would vex her with no more +reproaches. It was probable that as time passed he +would forget that he had ever had any reproaches to +offer.</p> + +<p>While Claire's reflections, nervous and fitful, took +by degrees some such shape as this, she found a desperate, +yearning pleasure in the hope that she might +still drink the <i>vin capiteux</i> of worldly success. She +almost felt like flinging herself on her knees and +praying that the delicious cup might not forever be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +dashed from her lips. To this stage had her triumphs +brought her. She was the same woman who had +made those resolves of abstinence and reformation +which her biographer has already duly chronicled. +She was the same woman whose conscience had smitten +her with a sense of higher and purer things when +the farewell of Thurston warned her by such appalling +remonstrance, and when she found herself confronting +her father's placid tomb amid the solemnities +of Greenwood. And yet how abysmal was the difference +between then and now! The chance of radical +change in heart, aim, and ideal had then been given +her; but now all thought of such change woke only +a willful, imperious dissent. Her vision turned upon +her own soul to-day, and showed her its mighty lapse +from grace, its supine and incapable droop. The debasing +spell had been woven; what counterspell was +potent enough to break it? Occasional flashes of regret +and aspiration might well assail her spirit, or of +recognition that she had lost a high contentment in +gaining a low one. This was natural enough. It +has been aptly put into metaphor that the saddest +place in Purgatory is that from which the walls of +Paradise are visible.</p> + +<p>By four o'clock Hollister had not returned. But +Mrs. Diggs had made her appearance instead, and +Claire welcomed it as a happy relief from the torment +of her own thoughts. "My dear," said this +lady, "there has been nothing so dreadful in Wall +Street since the crisis of the famed Black Friday. +My poor Manhattan came home at about three +o'clock, utterly jaded out. I made him go to bed. +He could scarcely speak to me. I asked him about +your husband's affairs, but he gave me only mum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span>bling +answers; excitement had put him into a kind +of stupor, don't you know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Claire, understanding the nature +of the collapse perfectly. "So he told you nothing +of Herbert's affairs? Nothing whatever?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing that I could really make out. I should +be in a wild state, and have a feeling about the soles +of my feet as if I were already going barefoot, don't +you know, if I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'had'nt'">hadn't</ins> long ago insisted upon Manhattan's +putting a very large and comfortable sum +safely away in my name."</p> + +<p>Claire thought of the house that had been assigned +to her, of her jewels, of her costly apparel. But +to remember these merely aggravated her distress. +What a meagre wreck they would leave from the +largess of her past prosperity!</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't be awfully worried, if I were you," +continued Mrs. Diggs. "If the worst <i>should</i> come, +your husband will be sure to save something handsome. +These great speculators always do. Some +odd thousands always turn up after the storm has +blown over. Perhaps he will begin again, and do +grander things than ever before."</p> + +<p>"That is cold consolation," said Claire, with a bitter +smile.</p> + +<p>"I know it is for <i>you</i>, Claire, dear, who have been +tossing away hundreds to my dimes. I might say +horrid things, but I won't. I might talk of retribution +for your extravagances, and all that. But I so +detest the <i>je vous l'avais bien dit</i> style of rebuke. +And I don't want to rebuke you a bit. You have +your faults, of course. But you're always my sweet, +beautiful Claire. My heart will ache for you if anything +frightful <i>should</i> happen. I say it to your face,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> +dear, as I would say it behind your back, that you +are the one woman of all others whom money perfectly +adorns. You spent it like a queen, and you +looked like a queen while you spent it. You remember +how I used to gush over Cornelia Van Horn's +grand manner? It could never hold a candle to +yours. I'm afraid I abused you like a regular pickpocket +the other night. Oh, yes, I pitched into you +just as hard as I could. But at the same time I was +thinking how well you carried your worldliness—what +a kind of a <i>beau rôle</i> you made of it, don't you +know? And whatever <i>should</i> come, Claire, always +recollect that I'll stick to you, my dear, through +thick and thin!"</p> + +<p>The vernacular turn taken by Mrs. Diggs during +this eager outburst gave it a spontaneity and naturalness +that more than once brought the mist to Claire's +eyes. She felt the true ring of friendly sympathy +in every word that was spoken; the touches of slang +pleased her; they were like the angularities of the +lady's physical shape, severe and yet not ungraceful. +She was sorry when her visitor rose to go, and had a +sense of dreary loneliness after she had departed.</p> + +<p>It would soon be the hour for dinner. But she +could not dine. She knew that the decorous butler +who waited on her would perceive her efforts to +choke down the proffered food. Perhaps he would +tingle with secret dread regarding his next wages. +He read the newspapers, of course; everybody read +them nowadays; and her husband's impending ruin +had been their chief and hideous topic.</p> + +<p>As the chill winter light in the room turned blue +before it wholly died, she sat and thought of how +many people would be glad to hear the very worst.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> +They seemed to her a pitiless legion. Then, as she +thought of how many would be sorry, three names +rose uppermost in her mind: Mrs. Diggs, Thurston, +and Stuart Goldwin. Yes, Goldwin surely would +have no exultant feeling. He was full of arts and +falsities, but he could not fail to regret any calamity +that brought with it her own sharp discomfiture.</p> + +<p>'He has lately been Herbert's rival in finance,' +she told her own thoughts. 'Circumstance has in a +manner pitted them against each other. Herbert +rose so quickly. They have not been enemies, but +they have stood on opposite sides in not a few matters +of speculation. Still, I am sure he will lament +the downfall, if it really comes. He will do so for +my sake, if for no other reason. I should have questioned +him more closely last night at the opera. I +am sure he wanted me to speak with more freedom of +the threatening disaster. I should have asked him'—</p> + +<p>And then Claire's distressed ruminations were cut +short by the quiet entrance of her husband. The +door of the chamber had been ajar. Hollister simply +pushed it a little further open, and crossed the +threshold.</p> + +<p>The dusk had begun, but it was still far from +making his face in any way obscure to her. As she +looked at it, while slowly rising from her chair, she +saw that it had never, to her knowledge, been so wan +and worn as now. He paused before her, and at +once spoke.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard?" he said.</p> + +<p>She felt herself grow cold. "What?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm cleaned out. Everything has gone. I +thought you might have seen the evening papers. +They are full of it. Of course they don't know the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> +real truth. Some of them say that I have five millions +hidden away." He laughed here, and the laugh +was bleak though low. "But I tell you the plain +truth, Claire—there's nothing left. The truth is +best; don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>He was steadily watching her, as he thus spoke, +and the detected irony of his words pierced her like +a knife. A wistful distress was in the frank blue of +his eyes; they seemed to reflect from her own spirit +the wrong that she had done him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Herbert," she answered, still keeping her +seat, "I think that the truth is always best."</p> + +<p>A great sigh left his lips. He put both hands behind +him, and began slowly pacing the floor, with +lowered head. While thus engaged, he went on +speaking.</p> + +<p>"I can't think how I ever shot up as I did. I +never was a very bright fellow at Dartmouth. I always +had pluck enough, but I never showed any +great nerve. Wall Street brought out a new set of +faculties, somehow. And then everybody liked me; +I was popular; that had a great deal to do with it, I +suppose—that and a wonderful run of luck at the +start. And then there was one thing more—one +very important thing, too. I see now what a tremendous +incentive it really was. I mean your wish +to rise and rule people. If it hadn't been for that, +I'd have let many a big chance slip."</p> + +<p>He paused now, standing close beside his wife's +chair. "I was always weak where you were concerned," +he said, regarding her very intently, and +with a cloud on his usually clear brow that bespoke +suffering rather than sternness. "You know that, +Claire. I yielded always; I let you wind me round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> +your finger—I was so fond of the finger. If you +had said, 'Herbert, do this or that folly,' I'd have +done it, and it wouldn't have seemed half so much a +folly because of your loved command. Is not this +true?"</p> + +<p>He came still closer to her after he had uttered +the last sentence. He was so close that his person +grazed her dress.</p> + +<p>Claire was very pale, and her eyes were shining. +"It is perfectly true," she answered him.</p> + +<p>Hollister's tones instantly changed. They were +broken, hoarse, and of fervid melancholy. "Perfectly +true. Yes, you admit it. You know that I am +right. I gave you everything—love, interest, energy, +respect, obedience. And what did you give +me? Your marriage-vows, Claire!—were those +falsehoods? Speak and tell me! I never thought +so till yesterday. Good God, woman! I never +thought about it at all. You were my wife; you +were my Claire. You were stronger in nature than +I, and I loved your strength. I loved to have you +lead, and to follow where you led. But your love—oh, +I counted on that as securely as we count on the +sun in heaven! And yesterday the truth burst on +me! It wasn't I that you had cared for. It was +the high place I could put you in, the dresses and +diamonds I could buy for you, the"—</p> + +<p>He suddenly broke off. A great excitement was +now in his visage, his voice, his whole manner. +Whether from pain or wrath, it seemed to her that +his eyes had taken a much darker tint, and that an +unwonted spark, chill and keen, lit them.</p> + +<p>"If it all <i>is</i> true," he went on, speaking much +more slowly, and like a man who breathes hard with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span>out +openly showing it, "then I thank God that no +child has been born of you and me!"</p> + +<p>She sat quite still. She was utterly conscience-stricken. +From all the facile vocabulary of feminine +self-excuse her bewildered and shamed soul could +shape no sentence either of propitiation or denial. +At such a time she felt the infamy, even the farce of +lying to him. And how could she respond with any +sufficiency, any gleam of comforting assurance, unless +she did lie?</p> + +<p>"You say that I led you into this disaster, Herbert," +she presently responded, with an effort, and +more than a successful one, to steady her voice. "I +don't deny it, but at the same time remember that +my forethought provided for us both in a case of just +the present sort. I have the other house, you know. +Its sale will bring us something. And then there +are all my jewels—and"—</p> + +<p>His eyes flashed and his lip curled. "You talk in +that business-like style," he cried, "when I am asking +you if you ever really loved me! Is your evasion +an answer, Claire? <i>Were</i> your marriage-vows falsehoods?"</p> + +<p>His hand grasped her wrist, though not with violence. +She rose, unsteadily, and shook the grasp off.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Herbert," she said, "I never saw you like +this before! Let us think of what we can do in case +all <i>is</i> really lost."</p> + +<p>He withdrew from her, breaking into a hollow +laugh. He stared at her with dilated, accusing eyes.</p> + +<p>"You don't dare tell me. But I read it, as I read +it yesterday.... What can we do? Ah! you're +not the woman to live on a thousand or two a year. +You want fine things to wear and to eat. You want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> +your jewels, too—don't sell them, for you couldn't +get along without them, now." He kept silence for +a moment, and then hurried with swift steps toward +the door, again pausing. A kind of madness, that +was born of an agony, possessed him and visibly +showed its sway. "Get some one else to put you +back into luxury," he went on, lifting one hand toward +his throat, as though to make the words less +husky that were leaping from his lips. "Get Goldwin +to do it. Yes, Goldwin. You've only to nod +and he'll kneel to you—as I knelt. Perhaps he's +got from you what I never could get. You know +what I mean—I've told you."</p> + +<p>He passed at once from the room, flinging the door +shut behind him. The room was in dimness by this +time. Claire almost staggered to a lounge, and sank +within it. His wild insult had dizzied her.</p> + +<p>He had not meant a word of it. He was tortured +by the thought that she had never cared for him. +He had used the first fierce reproach that his sorrow +and exasperation could hit upon. He went to his +own apartments, dressed, and then left the house. +He forgot that he had not dined, but remembered +only that there might be some sort of forlorn financial +hope discovered by a certain assemblage of men +less deeply involved than himself, yet all sufferers in +a similar way, which would take place privately that +same evening at a popular hotel not far distant. All +recollection of having suggested an infidelity to Claire +quite escaped from his perturbed and over-wrought +brain. The piercing realization that she had never +loved him still continued its torment. But he failed +to recall that the desperate sarcasm of his mood had +ever hurled at her the name of Goldwin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span></p> + +<p>A knock at the door of the darkened room waked +Claire from a kind of stupor. The knock came from +her maid, and it acted with decisive arousing force. +Lights were soon lit, and dinner, that evening, was +ordered to become a canceled ceremony.</p> + +<p>"You may bring me some <i>bouillon</i>, Marie," Claire +directed. "That, and nothing else."</p> + +<p>She drank the beverage when it was brought, and +changed her dress. The glass showed her a pale but +tranquil face.</p> + +<p>'I would have clung to him if he would have let +me,' incessantly passed through her thoughts. 'But +now he tells me that another can give me the luxury +that I have lost. He is right. Goldwin will come +this evening; I am sure of it.'</p> + +<p>Goldwin did come, and she received him with a +mien of ice. Underneath her coldness there was fire +enough, but she kept its heat well hidden.</p> + +<p>"I came to talk intimately with you," he at length +said, "and you treat me as if we had once met, somewhere, +for about ten minutes."</p> + +<p>The smouldering force of Claire's inward excitement +started into flame at these words. "I know +with what <i>intimate</i> feelings you came," she replied, +meeting his soft glance with one of cold opposition. +"You want to tell me that you can set Herbert right +with his creditors."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, slowly, averting his eyes, "I +did have that desire. Is there anything wrong about +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You should not have come to me. You +should have gone to him."</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Why?" repeated Claire, breaking into a sharp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> +laugh. A moment later she tossed her head with a +careless disdain. "I'm not going to tell you why. +You know well enough. See Herbert. Ask him if +he will let you help him."</p> + +<p>"You are very much excited."</p> + +<p>"I have good reason to be."</p> + +<p>"You mean this dreadful change in your husband's +affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I mean that, and I mean more. You +mustn't question me."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I won't."</p> + +<p>But he soon did, breaking the silence that ensued +between them with gently harmonious voice, and fixing +on Claire's half-averted face a look that seemed +to brim with sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Would Hollister take my help if I offered it? +Does he not dislike me? I believe so—I am nearly +sure so. You tap the floor with your foot. You are +miserable, and I understand your misery. So am I +miserable—on your account. I know all the ins +and outs of your distress ... ah, do not fancy that I +fail to do so. He has said hard things—undeserved +things. He has perhaps mixed my name with his +... what shall I call them? ... reproaches, impertinences? +You have had a quarrel—a quarrel that +has been wholly on his side. He has accused you of +not caring enough for him. It may be that he has +accused you of not caring at all. Of course he has +dilated on your love for the pomp and glitter of +things. As if he himself did not love them! As +if he himself has not given all of us proof that he +loved them very much! Well; let that pass. You +are to renounce everything. You are to dine on +humble fare, dress in plain clothes, sink into obscur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span>ity. +This is what he demands. Or, if it is not demanded, +it is implied. And for what reason? Because +he still sees you are beautiful, attractive, one +woman in ten thousand, and that having gambled +away every other pleasure in life he can still retain +you."</p> + +<p>Claire rose from the sofa on which they were both +seated. She did not look at Goldwin while she answered +him. Her voice was so low that he just +caught her words and no more.</p> + +<p>"To what does all this tend? Tell me. Tell me +at once."</p> + +<p>Goldwin in turn slowly rose while he responded: +"I will tell you, if you will tell me whether you love +your husband well enough to share poverty with him +after he has insulted you."</p> + +<p>"I did not say that he had insulted me."</p> + +<p>"I infer it. Am I right or wrong?"</p> + +<p>Still not looking at him, she made an impatient +gesture with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Allowing you are right. What then?"</p> + +<p>He did not reply for several minutes. He was +stroking his amber mustache with one white, well-shaped +hand; his eyes were now turned from hers, +hers from him.</p> + +<p>"I shall go abroad in a short time. I shall go in +less than a fortnight," he said.</p> + +<p>It was a most audacious thing to say, and he knew +it thoroughly. It was the bold stroke that must +either annul his hopes completely, or feed them with a +fresh life.</p> + +<p>Claire seemed to answer him only with the edges +of her lips.</p> + +<p>"How does that concern me?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In no way. I did not say it did. But you might +choose to sail a week or two later. Alone, of course. +It would be Paris, with me. You have told me that +you wanted very much to see Paris."</p> + +<p>She turned and faced him, then, more agitated +than angry.</p> + +<p>"You speak of my husband having insulted me. +What are you doing now?"</p> + +<p>"I am trying to save you."</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens! from what?"</p> + +<p>"From him. Listen. I did not mean for you to +go directly to Paris. You would travel. But at a +certain date I could meet you there. I could meet +you with—well, with a document of importance."</p> + +<p>"Explain. I don't understand you at all."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I put the case in certain legal hands here. +Suppose they worked it up with skill and shrewdness. +Suppose they gained it. Suppose they secured a divorce +between you and him on—grounds" ...</p> + +<p>"Well? What grounds?"</p> + +<p>"Of infidelity. You know the life he has lived. +Or rather, you don't know. He has been so gay, so +prominent, of late, that almost any well-feed lawyer +could"—</p> + +<p>Claire interrupted him, there. "Leave me at +once," she said, pointing toward the door. "Leave +me. I order you to do it!"</p> + +<p>He obeyed her, but stopped when he had nearly +reached the threshold.</p> + +<p>"As my wife," he said, "you would reign more +proudly than you have ever reigned yet. The moment +you were free I would be so glad to make you +mine—you, the loveliest woman I ever knew, and +the most finely, strictly pure!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Leave me," she repeated; but he had quitted the +room before her words were spoken.</p> + +<p>She glanced in the direction whence his voice had +come to her, and then, seeing that he was gone, she +dropped back upon the sofa, and sat there, staring +straight ahead at nothing, with tight-locked hands +and colorless, alarmed face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">She</span> heard Hollister reënter the house that night +at a very late hour, and pass to his own apartments. +It was only after dawn that she obtained a little restless +and broken sleep. By nine o'clock she rang for +her coffee, and then, after forcing herself to swallow +it, began to dress, with her maid's assistance. Marie +was a perfect servant. As she performed with capable +exactitude one after another careful duty, the +ease and charm of being thus waited upon appealed +to Claire with an ironical emphasis. The very softness +and tasteful make of her garments took a new +and dreary meaning. She had forgotten for weeks +the dainty details of her late life, its elegance of tone, +smoothness of movement, nicety of balance. These +features had grown customary and inconspicuous, as +cambric will in time grow familiar to the skin that +has brushed against coarser textures. But now the +light, so to speak, had altered; it was cloudy and +stormful; it brought out in vivid relief what before +had been clad with the pleasant haze of habit. The +very carpet beneath Claire's tread took a reminding +softness; the numberless attractions and comforts of +her chamber thrust forward special claims to her +heed; even the elaborate or simple utensils of her +dressing-table had each its distinct note of souvenir. +She must so soon lose so much of it all!</p> + +<p>As if by some automatic and involuntary process,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> +memory slipped images and pictures before her mental +vision; she had noted them in the still, dark +hours of the previous night, and they remained unbanished +now by the glow of the wintry morning. +She saw herself a child, cowed and satirized by her +coarse and domineering mother; she witnessed the +episode of her gentle father's firm and protective revolt; +she lived again through the prosperous rise of +the family fortunes; she watched herself brave and +quell the insolence of Ada Gerrard, and slowly but +surely gain rank and recognition among those adverse +and disdainful schoolfellows; she endured anew +the chagrin of subsequent decadence—the commonness +and the disrelish of her public school career, the +disappointment and monotony of her Jersey City experience, +and then, lastly, the laborious and deathly +tedium of Greenpoint.... Here the strange panorama +would cease; the magic-lantern of reminiscence +had no more lenses in its shadowy repository; the +actual took the place of dream, and startled her by +an aspect more unreal than though wrought merely +of recollection.</p> + +<p>Had these recent weeks all been true? Had she +climbed so high in fact and not in fancy? Was the +throne from which fate now gave harsh threat of +pushing her a throne not built of air, but material, +tangible, solid? The strangeness of her own history +affected her in a purely objective way. She seemed +to stand apart from it and regard it as though it were +some lapse of singular country for which she had +gained the sight-seer's best vantage-point. Its acclivities +were so sheer, its valleys were so abrupt, it +took such headlong plunges and made such unexpected +ascents.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p> + +<p>The discreet and sedulous Marie divined little of +what engrossed her mistress's mind, and withdrew +in her wonted humility of courtesy when Claire, no +longer needing her service, at last dismissed her.</p> + +<p>But before doing so, Claire took pains to learn +that Hollister had not yet descended for his breakfast, +which of late he had usually eaten alone in the +great dining-room. She soon passed into her adjacent +boudoir, where fresh treasures and mementos addressed +her through a silent prophecy of coming loss.</p> + +<p>Here was a writing-table, well supplied with various +kinds of note-paper, all bearing her initials in +differing intertwisted devices. Not long ago she had +questioned her husband on the subject of the Hollister +crest; she would have been glad enough to receive +from him some clew that might lead to its discovery; +but he had expressed frank and entire ignorance regarding +any such heraldic symbol.</p> + +<p>Claire took a sheet of note paper, and in a hand +that was just unsteady enough to show her how +strong an inward excitement was making stealthy +attack upon her nervous power, began a brief note +to Stuart Goldwin. When finished, the note (which +bore no ceremonious prefix whatever, and was unmarked +by any date) ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The words which you chose to address to me last +night have permanently ended our acquaintance. As +a gentleman to a gentlewoman, you were impolite. +As a man to a woman, you were far worse. I desire +that you will not answer these few lines, and that +when we meet again, if such a meeting should ever +occur, you will expect from me no more sign of recognition +than that which I would accord any one who +had given me an unpardonable insult.</p> + +<p class="right">C. H." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Claire sealed and directed this note. She did not +send it, however. After its completion she went +downstairs into the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Hollister was seated there, being served with breakfast. +He had already found it impossible to eat; he +was sipping a second or third cup of strong tea.</p> + +<p>When his wife appeared, he slightly started. Claire +went to the fire and stood before it, letting its warmth +and glow hold her in thrall for quite a while. Her +back was now turned to him; she was waiting for +the butler to depart. He presently did so, closing a +door behind his exit with just enough accentuation +to make the sound convey decisive and final import.</p> + +<p>Claire then slowly turned, removing one foot from +one of the polished rods that bordered the flame-lit +hearthstone. She looked straight at her husband; +she did not need to see how pale he was; her first +look had told her that. She had chosen to ignore all +that he had said last night. It did not cost her much +effort to do this; she had too keen a sense of her own +wrong toward him not to condone the reckless way +in which he had coupled her name with Goldwin's. +Besides, had not Goldwin's own words to her, a little +later, made that assault seem almost justified? She +felt nothing toward him save a great pity. Her pity +sprang, too, from remorse. She lacked all tenderness; +this, joined with pity, would have meant love. +'And I cannot love him!' she had already reflected. +'If I only could, it would be so different. But I +cannot.'</p> + +<p>When she spoke, her words were very calm and +firm. "I thought you might have something more to +tell me," she said. "I came down to see you before +you went away, for that reason. You said last night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> +that everything had gone. There will be a day or +two left us, I suppose; I mean a day or two of—possession."</p> + +<p>He was stirring the tea with his spoon. His eyes +were bent on the table as he did so. He spoke without +lifting them. "Oh, yes," he answered. "Perhaps +four or five days. They will seize the house, +after that," he went on, "and all the furniture and +valuables. Of course they can't touch what is really +yours. I mean your diamonds, your dresses, <i>et +cetera</i>."</p> + +<p>A pause followed. "To-day I have a luncheon-party," +said Claire.</p> + +<p>"Yes ... you told me. I remember."</p> + +<p>"I hope nothing of ... of <i>that sort</i> will happen +to-day."</p> + +<p>"No." He had taken his spoon from the cup, and +was staring down at it, as though he wanted to make +sure of some flaw in its metal. His face was not +merely pale; it had the worn look of severe anxiety. +"You can have your luncheon-party with impunity. +By the way, our own <i>chef</i> gets it up, doesn't he? +You didn't have Delmonico or any one else in, did +you?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered. "Pierre was to do it all. +He had his full orders several days ago."</p> + +<p>A fleet, bitter smile crossed Hollister's lips. He +put his spoon back into the cup, but did not raise his +eyes. "Oh, everything is safe enough for to-day," +he said.</p> + +<p>Claire moved slowly toward him. "Herbert," she +said, and put forward one hand ... "I don't see +why we should not be friends at a time like this. +You were angry last night, and said things that I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> +sure you didn't mean—things that I've almost forgotten, +and want entirely to forget. Let us both forget +them. Let us be friends again, and talk matters +over sensibly—as we ought to do."</p> + +<p>She herself was not aware of the loveless chill that +touched every word she had just spoken. There was +something absolutely matter-of-fact in her tones; they +rang with a kind of commercial loudness. It was +almost as though she were proposing a mercantile +truce between man and man.</p> + +<p>Hollister visibly winced, and slowly rose from the +table. Every sentence that she had uttered had bitten +into his very soul. His pride was alive, and +keenly so. But he was not at all angry; he felt too +miserably saddened for that.</p> + +<p>"Claire," he said, "we had best not talk of being +<i>friends</i>. If I spoke to you harshly last night, I'm +sorry. I don't quite recollect just what I did say. +Of course we must have a serious talk about how we +are to live in future. But not now, if you please—not +now. Your luncheon will go off all properly +enough. Things are not so bad as <i>that</i>. I shall be +away until evening. Perhaps when I come home +again we can have our talk."</p> + +<p>Claire looked at him with hard, bright eyes. She +assured herself that he had causelessly repulsed her. +Even allowing the wrong that she had done him of +marrying him without love, why should he now repel, +by this self-contained austerity, an advance which, in +her egotistic misery, she believed a sincere and spontaneous +one? She was wholly unaware of her own +unfortunate demeanor; it seemed to her that she had +done her best; she had tried to conciliate, to appease, +to mollify. Was not her note to Goldwin now in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> +pocket of her gown? Was not that note a defense of +Herbert's own honor as of hers? She made the distinctly +feminine error, while she rapidly surveyed the +present contingency, of taking for granted that her +husband possessed some obscure and mesmeric intuition +regarding this same unseen piece of writing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," she replied, with an actually +wounded manner; "you may do just as you please. +I might have resented the unjust and horrible thing +you said to me last evening, but I did not. I did +not, because, as I told you, I thought it best for us to +be friends once again."</p> + +<p>"Friends." He repeated the word with a harsh +fragment of laughter. His changed face took another +speedy change; it grew sombre and forbidding. +"You and I, Claire, can never be friends. While we +live together hereafter I'm afraid it must only be as +strangers."</p> + +<p>"Strangers!" she repeated, haughtily and offendedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes! You know why." He walked toward the +tapestried door of the dining-room, and flung one of +its curtains aside, holding it thus while he stood on +the threshold and looked back at her. "You yourself +make the reason. I'll do all I can. I don't know of +any unjust or horrible thing that I said last evening. +I only know that you are and have been my wife in +name alone."</p> + +<p>He had forgotten his speech regarding Goldwin. +He had never had any suspicion, however remote, +that she had transgressed her wifely vows. He +simply felt that she had never loved him, and that +she had married him for place and promotion in a +worldly sense; that, and no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span></p> + +<p>The draperies of the door at once shrouded his departing +figure. Claire stood quite still, watching the +agitated folds settle themselves into rest. 'He meant +that Goldwin is my lover,' she told herself. 'What +else could he possibly have meant?'</p> + +<p>She had some half-formed intent of hurrying after +him and venting her indignation in no weak terms. +Best if she had done so; for he might then have explained +away, with surprise and perhaps contrition, +the fatal blunder that she had made. But pride soon +came, with its vetoing interference. She did not stir +until she heard the outer door close after him. Then, +knowing that he was gone, she let pride lay its gall +on her hurt, and dull her mind to the sense of what +wrong she had inflicted on him by the permitted +mockery of their marriage.</p> + +<p>'He had no reason to judge so vilely of me,' sped +her thoughts. 'His approval of that intimacy was +clearly implied, however tacit. What must our lives +together now become? He has brought a shameful +charge against me; if I loved him I could doubtless +pardon him; love will pardon so much. But as it is, +there must always remain a breach between us. A +continuance of our present brilliant affluence might +bridge it over. The distractions and pleasures of +wealth, fashion, supremacy, would make it less and +less apparent to both; but poverty, and perhaps even +hardship as well,—how should these fail to mercilessly +widen it?'</p> + +<p>Everything looked black, threatening, and miserable +to Claire as she began to attire herself for the +great lunch. Her maid had just finished dressing +her hair, when a note was handed her.</p> + +<p>It was from Mrs. Van Horn. Very brief and en<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span>tirely +courteous, it expressed regret that a sudden +sick headache would prevent her from numbering +herself among Claire's favored guests that morning. +'The first token of my altered fortunes,' she thought, +with a pang that was like a stab. 'This woman was +the last to come under my ensign; she is the first to +desert it.'</p> + +<p>She recalled Thurston's words to her at the opera +on the previous night. Surely there was some grave +discrepancy between these and the acts of his sister. +As for the headache, that was of course transparent +sham. If this lofty lady had wanted to deceive, she +might have done so more plausibly. But perhaps +she did not care whether or no her excuse looked +genuine. Rats leave a falling house. That was all +the letter meant. Claire could have thrown it down +upon the floor and stamped on it. In reality, she +tossed it with seeming unconcern into the fire, and +gave a quiet order to Marie which she wished taken +directly to the butler, regarding the reduced number +of her coming guests.</p> + +<p>When Marie reëntered the apartment, she bore a +card. It was the card of Thurston. On it were written +in pencil these words: "I beg that you will see +me for a few moments, if you can possibly manage."</p> + +<p>She at once went down and received him. He +looked fixedly into her face for a slight while, after +they had seated themselves. He knew all that had +happened, and he understood just how savage and +calamitous must seem to her the blows from which +she was now suffering. He read excitement and +even despair in every line of her features, though he +clearly perceived that both were held under a determined +repression.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span></p> + +<p>'She means not to let herself go one inch,' he decided. +'If she did, she would break down altogether. +She has wound herself up to a certain pitch. She will +keep just this way for hours yet. She will keep so—if +nothing strange and unforeseen should happen.'</p> + +<p>A deep and vital pity pierced him while he watched +her. He loved her, and his love made him unreasonably +lenient. A sacred sadness invested her, for his +eyes, in this the hour of her misfortune and overthrow. +He forgot how blameworthy she had been, +and could remember only that destiny would soon +hurl in the dust the crown that she had worn with so +much grace and grandeur.</p> + +<p>"Did you come to speak of my—of our trouble?" +she said, her lip quivering for an instant and no more.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied. "But since <i>you</i> speak of it, is +all chance of recovery gone? May not matters right +themselves somehow?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head in quick negative. "I think +not. He has lost everything—or nearly that." She +broke into a smile, which had for her companion only +the brightness one might see in tears. "I suppose +it seems to you like a punishment—a retribution." +Her gaze dwelt on him with a mournful kind of +pleasantry. It was like the spirit of Comedy slipping +her gay mask a little down and showing beneath +it a glimpse of pallor and fatigue.</p> + +<p>"But do not let us talk of that. You wanted to +talk of something else. What was it? your sister's +refusal, at the eleventh hour, to come to my lunch?"</p> + +<p>"Has she refused?"</p> + +<p>"She has a sick headache," returned Claire, with +a bit of joyless laughter—the saddest he had ever +heard leave her lips. "I don't doubt our disreputa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span>ble +downfall has given it to her. Don't make excuses +for her; she is quite right to have her headache. It's +a fastidious prerogative, you know. I shan't require +a physician's certificate. I only hope that all the +others will be cruel in just as civil a manner."</p> + +<p>The tragic bitterness of these words, though they +were quietly enough uttered, stung Thurston to the +quick. When a man loves as he loved, compassion +waits the ready vassal of tenderness. He had a momentary +feeling of hostility against an elusive, disembodied +foe—against circumstance itself, so to +speak, for having wrought discord in a life that was +meant to hold nothing but melody.</p> + +<p>He swiftly decided not to tell the real truth regarding +his sister. "I would not concern myself +with Cornelia's absence," he said. "Another matter, +of much more import, must be brought to your +notice. It is then settled that Cornelia remains +away. I did not know that she would do so. She +made no mention of it during our interview last +night."</p> + +<p>"Her headache had not arrived. Neither had the +morning papers, which said such hard things of my +husband."</p> + +<p>"As you will. Let all that pass. I wish to speak +of a lady who will almost certainly be present at your +entertainment to-day. I mean Sylvia Lee. Don't +ask me why I warn you against her, for I can't give +you any lucid reasons. She intends some mischief. +I suspected it last night from something my sister let +fall, and I visited Mrs. Lee this morning with a most +detective purpose. I gained no clew, and yet my +suspicions were by no means lulled. I have never +liked Sylvia; we are related, but she has always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> +struck me as an abhorrent kind of creature, bristling +with artifice, destitute of nearly all <i>morale</i>, capable +of the worst cunning, equipped with the most subtle +resources of treachery. Be on your guard against +her to-day. This sounds mysterious—melodramatic, +if you will; but she has some snare laid for you, +some petty but perhaps ugly revenge. You know +why I use that last word. She has wanted to marry +Goldwin for years. She isn't a bit above the grossest, +most unscrupulous hatred. She told me that she +didn't believe in your husband's ruin, and that a few +more days would see him on his feet again. This +makes me all the more convinced that she will not +put her little sharpened dagger back into its sheath. +She has hatched some sort of horrid plot. Thwart +it if you can. I wish I could be here to help you."</p> + +<p>Claire had grown very pale, but her eyes sparkled +vividly. "I am your debtor for these tidings," she +said. She drew a deep breath, and he surmised that +under the soft curve of her joined lips she had for +a brief moment set her teeth closely together. "I +thought the lunch would be a hard ordeal, even as +matters stood," she went on, "and that I would need +my best nerve and courage to get through it all right, +with proper coolness and dignity. But now the task +looks far less easy. Still, I shan't flinch. I wish +you <i>were</i> to be here; but that is not possible."</p> + +<p>Just then a clock on the opposite mantel gave one +little silver note that told it was half-past twelve. +Claire rose as she heard the sound. "I must leave +you now," she pursued. "I have only an hour left +for my toilette, and I shall need it all." She threw +back her head, and a dreary smile gleamed and fled +along her lips. "I mean to meet all these grand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> +ladies without one sign of defeat. I shan't wear my +heart on my sleeve. This lunch was to have been +my crowning triumph. It proves a funeral-feast, +in its way, but they shan't find me playing chief-mourner. +I intend to die game, as the phrase is." +She gave a slight shudder, drooping her eyes. "It +will be as though I stood in a house whose walls +might crumble all about me at any moment—as if +I could hear the crack of plaster and the creak of +beams. But I shan't run away; I shall stand my +ground very firmly, depend on it, until the bitter end. +When the crash comes nobody will be buried in the +ruins but myself—that is certain, is it not?"</p> + +<p>Here her joyless laugh again sounded, and Thurston, +swayed by an irresistible mood, caught one of +her hands, pressing it hard within his own.</p> + +<p>"You shall not be buried in the ruins!" he exclaimed. +"Take my word for it, you shall not! It +will all only be the beginning of a new and better +life. You shall have learned a hard yet salutary +lesson—that, and nothing more."</p> + +<p>She shook her head, meeting his earnest eyes. +"You are my good genius," she said. "It is too +bad you have not had more power over me."</p> + +<p>"Who is your evil genius?" he asked, with slower +tones, while she drew her hand from his.</p> + +<p>"Myself," she answered. "I am quite willing to +concede it." ... She appeared to muse for a little +while. "I shall have one true friend here to-day," +she soon continued. "I mean Mrs. Diggs. She is +very loyal to me; she would do almost anything I +should ask. You don't like her, or so she tells me, +but I hope you will like her better than your other +cousin, Mrs. Lee."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I respect her far more. I have never doubted +her goodness. But she gives me nerves, as the French +say. She is at such a perpetual gallop; if she would +only break into a trot, sometimes, it would be like +anybody else's walk.... You think you can trust +her as an ally to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Implicitly. She has promised to come early, too—before +the others, you know." ... Claire locked +the fingers of both hands together, and held them so +that the palms were bent downward. The weary +smile again touched her lips and vanished. "What +a day it is to be! And what a day it <i>might</i> have +been!" She held out her hand to him, after that. +"Good-by. With all my heart I thank you! You +have done all that you could do."</p> + +<p>He did not promptly reply. He was thinking +whether he had really done all that he could do.... +And this thought followed him hauntingly as he left +Claire to meet whatever catastrophe fate had in store +for her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs kept her promise, and was shown into +Claire's dressing room a good quarter of an hour before +the other guests were due. The lady started on +seeing her friend, whose toilette was now completed, +and whose robe, worn for the first time, was of a +regal and unique beauty. It was chiefly of white +velvet, whose trailing heaviness blent with purple +lengths of the same lustreless and sculpturesque fabric. +The white prevailed, but the purple was richly +manifest. In her hair she wore aigrettes of sapphires +and amethysts shaped to resemble pansies, +and while the sleeves were cut short enough to show +either arm from wrist almost to elbow, and permit of +bracelets that were two circles of jewels wrought in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span> +semblance of the same flower and with the same blue +and lilac gems, her bust and throat were clad in one +cloud of rare, filmy laces, from which her delicate +head rose with a stately yet aerial grace. Excitement +had put rosy tints in either cheek; the jewels +that she wore had no sweeter splendor than her eyes, +and yet both by color and glow in a certain way aptly +matched them. A gear of velvet is dangerous to +women in whom exuberance of figure has the least +assertive rule. Velvet is the sworn enemy of <i>embonpoint</i>. +But Claire's figure was of such supple and +flexile slenderness that the weight and volume of this +apparel made her light step and airy contour win a +new charm and a new vivacity.</p> + +<p>"It is all perfect—quite perfect," said Mrs. Diggs, +after taking a rapid survey of Claire's attire. "But, +my dear, are you perfectly sure that" ...</p> + +<p>"Sure of what?" Claire asked, as her friend hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Well ... that it is just in good taste, don't you +know? I mean, under the circumstances."</p> + +<p>"What circumstances?" she exclaimed, putting the +question as though she did not wish it answered, and +moving a few paces away with an air of great pride. +"I intend to fall gloriously. The end has come, the +fight is lost; but I shan't make a tame surrender—not +I! They shall see me at my best to-day, in +looks, in speech, in manner. I'm glad you like my +dress; I want it to be something memorable."</p> + +<p>"You say that with a kind of bravado, Claire. +There's a bitter ring to your mirth. Oh, I'm so +sorry for you! That lovely dress hides an aching +heart. You will suffer, poor child. This lunch will +be a positive torture to you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span></p> + +<p>A moment after these words were spoken, Claire +was close at Mrs. Diggs's side, holding one of her +hands with firm pressure.</p> + +<p>"You don't know how much of a torture it must +be," she said, "and for what reason." She immediately +repeated all that Thurston had told her. When +she had finished, Mrs. Diggs was in a high state of +perturbation.</p> + +<p>"I haven't a doubt that Beverley is right!" she +exclaimed. "If there <i>was</i> any plot, Cornelia Van +Horn was in it, too, and her brother has made her +throw away her weapons. But Sylvia Lee intends +to deal the blow alone.... What can it be? I'm +at my wit's end to guess. There's but one thing to +do—keep a continual watch upon her. Claire, can +you be, by any chance, in that woman's power?"</p> + +<p>"Her power?" faltered Claire.... "I hope not," +she added.... "I <i>know</i> not," she then said, as the +full sense of Mrs. Diggs's question struck her, and +using a tone that was one of surprised affront.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't be offended, my dear. I merely +meant that Sylvia isn't a bit too good to magnify +some slight imprudence, or twist and turn it until +she has got it dangerously like an actual crime.... +But <i>nous verrons</i>. After all, Beverley's fears +may be groundless. With all my heart I hope they +are!"</p> + +<p>Not long afterward Claire was receiving her guests. +All the great ladies came, except, of course, Mrs. Van +Horn. The last arrival was that of Mrs. Lee. She +contrived to make her entrance a very conspicuous +one. She was dressed with even more fantastic oddity +than usual, and she spoke in so shrill and peculiar +a voice that she had not been in the drawing-room<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span> +more than five minutes before marked and universal +attention was directed upon her.</p> + +<p>"Sylvia is in a very singular state of excitement," +Mrs. Diggs murmured to Claire. "I know her well. +That slow drawl of hers has entirely gone. She acts +to me as if she were on the verge of hysteria. I don't +know whether you felt her hand tremble as it shook +yours, but I thought that I plainly <i>saw</i> it tremble. +Just watch her, now, while she talks with Mrs. Vanvelsor. +She has a little crimson dot in each of her +cheeks, and she is usually quite pale, you know. +There's something in the wind—Beverley was +right."</p> + +<p>"Her place at the table is rather distant from +mine," said Claire, with a scornful, transitory curl of +the lip. "So there is no danger of her putting a +pinch of arsenic into my wine-glass."</p> + +<p>"You're not nervous, then? I am. I don't know +just why, but I am."</p> + +<p>"Nervous?" Claire softly echoed. "No, not at +all, now. I've other more important things to think +of. What <i>could</i> she do, after all? Let her attempt +any folly; it would only recoil on herself.... Ah, +my friend, I am afraid I'm past being injured. This +is my <i>finale</i>. I want it to prove a grand one."</p> + +<p>"It will, Claire. They have all come, as you see. +They have met you with perfect cordiality, and you +have received them with every bit of your accustomed +grace. I dare say that some of them are +stunned with amazement; they no doubt expected to +find you shivering and colorless."</p> + +<p>The repast was magnificent. There were more +than thirty ladies present, and these, all brilliantly +attired and some of striking personal beauty, made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> +the prodigal array of flowers, the admirable service +of many delicious viands, and the soft music pealing +from the near hall just loudly enough not to drown +conversation while it filled pauses, produce an effect +where the most unrestrained hospitality was mingled +with a faultless refinement.</p> + +<p>Claire's spirits seemed to rise as the decorous yet +lavish banquet proceeded. Her laugh now and then +rang out clear and sweet, while she addressed this or +that lady, at various distances from where she herself +sat. Mrs. Diggs, whose place was next her own, observed +it all with secret wonder. She alone knew the +bleeding pride, the balked aspiration, the thwarted +yearning, which this pathetic and fictitious buoyancy +hid. It was a defiance, and yet how skilled and radiant +a one! Could you blame the woman who knew +how to bloom and sparkle like this, for loving the +world where such dainty eminence was envied and +prized? Was there not a touch of genius in her pitiable +yet dauntless masquerade? Who else could +have played the same part with the same deft security, +and in the very teeth of failure and dethronement?</p> + +<p>Claire's gayety and self-possession made more than +one of her guests lose faith in the tale of her husband's +ruin. They were all women of the world, and +they all had the tact and breeding to perceive that +their hostess, now if ever, merited their best courtesy. +They could all have staid away at the last moment; +Mrs. Van Horn held no exclusive claim to the possession +of her headache; its right of appropriation belonged +elsewhere. But they had not availed themselves +of it; they had chosen to sit at Claire's board, +to break her delicate bread. Hence they owed her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span> +their allegiance to-day, even if to-morrow they should +find expediency in its harshest opposite. But it now +appeared to them as if she were refuting the widespread +rumor of her husband's misfortunes; her own +equipoise and scintillance bespoke this no less than +the irreproachable <i>chic</i> of the entertainment to which +she had bidden them.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee was not very far away from Claire, and +yet the latter never addressed or seemed to notice +her. But Mrs. Diggs noticed her; she indeed maintained +a vigilant, though repressed, watchfulness.</p> + +<p>"You have quieted her," she found a chance to +murmur in Claire's ear, sure that the indefinite nature +of the pronoun would not be misunderstood. +"She is still looking excited and queer, but she has +almost relapsed into silence. Perhaps she really +wanted to poison you, and feels hurt at the lost opportunity." +Mrs. Diggs had had several sips of good +wine, and felt her anxiety lessened; her jocose ebullition +was the result of steadied nerves. "I never +saw you so <i>spirituelle</i>, Claire," she went on. "You +have said at least eight delicious things. I have them +all mentally booked, my dear. When we are next +alone together I will remind you of them."</p> + +<p>"Pray don't," Claire answered, putting the words +into a still lower aside than her friend's. "I shall +have hard enough work to forget, then. I shall want +<i>only</i> to forget, too."</p> + +<p>She had just finished this faint-spoken sentence +when one of the servants handed her a note. As +she glanced at its superscription the thought passed +through her mind that it might be some dire and +alarming message from her husband. But the next +instant a flash of recollection assailed her. She re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span>membered +the handwriting—or, at least, in this festive +and distracting environment, she more than half +believed that she did so.</p> + +<p>Her hands, while she swiftly tore open the envelope, +were dropped upon her lap. She read several +lines of a note, and then crushed it, quickly and +covertly. As her eyes met those of Mrs. Diggs she +had a sense that she was becoming ghastly pale.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" whispered her friend.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," she afterward remembered saying. +The servant was still close at her elbow. She turned +her head toward him.</p> + +<p>"Let her wait," she said. "Tell her that I will +see her quite soon."</p> + +<p>The whole affair had been very rapid of occurrence. +No one present had given a sign of having +observed it.</p> + +<p>'If I had only not grown so pale,' she thought.</p> + +<p>The paper was still clutched in her left hand, and +she had thrust this half-way beneath the table-cover. +With her right hand she began to make a play of +eating something from the plate before her, as she +addressed the lady on her other side. What she said +must have been something very gracious and pleasant, +for the lady smiled and answered affably, while +the servants glided, the music sounded, the delightful +feast progressed. Everything had grown dim +and whirling to Claire. And yet she had already +realized perfectly that Mrs. Lee was striking her +blow. It had come, sudden, cruel, direct. Her +blurred mind, her weakened and chilling body, did +not leave that one fact any the less clear. She understood +just what it was, why it was, and whence it +was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span></p> + +<p>The note had been from her mother. It was half +illiterate invective, half threatening rebuke. Its +writer waited outside and demanded to see her. "If +you don't come," the ill-shaped writing ran, "I will +come to you." Claire knew that this thing had been +Mrs. Lee's work as well as if a thousand witnesses +had averred it. The missive contained no mention +of Mrs. Lee, but she nevertheless had her certainty.</p> + +<p>'I must go,' she told herself. 'I must go and +meet her. <i>Can</i> I go? Can I walk, feeling as I do? +Should I not fall if I tried?'</p> + +<p>She always afterward remembered the food that +her fork now touched and trifled with. It was a +sweetbread croquette, with little black specks of +chopped truffle in its creamy yielding oval, and the +air that they were playing out in the hall was from a +light, valueless opera, then much in vogue. She always +afterward remembered that, too. So do slight +events often press themselves in upon the dazed and +dilated vision of a great distress.</p> + +<p>'Can I rise and walk?' she kept thinking. +'Should I not fall if I tried?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is doubtful if any guest save Mrs. Diggs and +one other had seen Claire either receive, open, or +read her note. The constant movements of servants +hither and thither, and the little conversational +cliques formed among the ladies at this central stage +of the entertainment, would have made such an escape +from general notice both natural and probable. +But Mrs. Diggs, who had thus far kept a furtive +though incessant watch upon Mrs. Lee, soon felt +certain that her cousin had not merely seen what had +passed; she was visibly affected by it as well; she +could not help regarding Claire across the considerable +space which intervened between them. Her expression +was a most imprudent betrayal; it clearly +told, by its acerbity and exultance, that she held +the present occasion to be one of prodigious and triumphant +import. No one except Mrs. Diggs was +watching her, and she was unaware of even that +sidelong but intent gaze. The natural mobility of +her odd face, which repelled some and attracted +others, needed at all times a certain check; but chagrins +or satisfactions were both readily imprinted +there. It corresponded to the pliability of her body; +it would have been a face in which some clever actress +might have found a fortune. She usually +restrained it with discretion, but just now the force<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> +of a malign joy swept aside prudent control. Before +Mrs. Diggs's exploring search of it ended, her last +doubt had fled.</p> + +<p>'I never saw her look more like the snake that she +is,' Claire's friend had thought. 'The mischief—the +deviltry, it may be—lies in that letter. Claire +has grown as white as its paper; but nobody notices, +thank Heaven! She won't faint—she isn't of the +fainting sort.'</p> + +<p>"Claire," she now said aloud, yet in tones which +the most adroit of eavesdroppers could not have more +than just vaguely overheard, "did you get any bad +news a minute ago?"</p> + +<p>Claire was no longer addressing the lady at her +side. "Why do you ask?" she responded. "Do I +look pale?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all; not the least in the world; I've +never seen you more composed," returned Mrs. Diggs, +with enormous mendacity, hoping that her charitable +lie would bear reassuring and tranquilizing results.</p> + +<p>It did, as soon became apparent. Claire's condition +was that in which we grasp at straws. Perhaps +she grew several shades less pale on hearing +that she was not so.</p> + +<p>"I must leave the room," she said, pronouncing +the words with the edges of her lips. "I must leave +immediately."</p> + +<p>"Are you unwell?"</p> + +<p>"No—yes—it isn't that. I must go. Could I +do it without—without—?" She paused here; she +had not enough clearness of thought, just then, to +finish her sentence coherently.</p> + +<p>"Without causing remark?" gently broke in Mrs. +Diggs. "Why, of course you could, my dear. Are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span> +you not hostess? A hundred things might call you +away for a little while. No one would dream of +thinking it in the least strange. Why on earth +should one?"</p> + +<p>There was a light nonchalance about this answer +that Mrs. Diggs by no means felt. She knew that +something had gone terribly wrong. Her rejoinder +had been a stroke of impromptu tact, just as her recent +glib falsehood had been.</p> + +<p>Its effect upon Claire was immediate. Her friend +was doing her thinking for her, so to speak, and was +doing it with a rapid, unhesitating <i>aplomb</i>.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what has happened, do you?" +she now said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs at once felt the helpless disability of +mind and nerves which this last faltered question +implied.</p> + +<p>"Give me your note," she said. "Slip it under +the table. You will not be seen."</p> + +<p>Claire obeyed. Mrs. Diggs had long ago learned +how and why her friend had left home, before that +episode began of her residence with the Bergemanns. +She read the note like lightning, and digested its contents +with an almost equal speed. The sprawl of its +writing was uncouth enough, but not illegible.</p> + +<p>For a slight space horrified sympathy kept her +silent. Then she said, with a coolness and placidity +that did her fine credit, considering the cause in +which she employed them:—</p> + +<p>"I would go at once. You can keep everything +quiet. Of course you can. I will follow you shortly. +I will make a perfect excuse for you. You are feeling +a little unwell—that is all. No one has noticed; +take my word for that; I am simply <i>certain</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span> +of it. When you return—which I promise you that +you shall do quite soon—scarcely a comment will +have been made on your absence. Go, by all means. +Go at once, as I said."</p> + +<p>'Some of her color has come back,' at the same +time passed through poor Mrs. Diggs's anxious and +agitated thoughts. 'I knew she wouldn't faint; it +isn't <i>in</i> her. She will see that I'm right, in a minute. +Her wits will begin to work. She will go.'</p> + +<p>Claire did go. She had no after-recollection of +how she left the great dining-room. But she had indeed +moved from it in so silent and yet so swift a +way that her chair had been vacant several seconds, +and her skirts were sweeping one of the thresholds +of exit, before the fact of her departure became even +half perceived among the guests.</p> + +<p>Once in the large, empty drawing-room immediately +beyond that which she had quitted, she felt her +leaping heart grow quiet, and her bewildered brain +clear. It took only seconds, now, to restore in a +great measure her self-possession and her courage.</p> + +<p>She passed into the further drawing-room. Both +were as void of human occupant as they were rich +and stately in their countless beauties of adornment. +Her visitor was evidently not here. Then she remembered +the smaller reception-room which opened +off from the main hall. She directed her steps +thither. They were firm steps; she had grown sensible +of this, and of her newly acquired composure as +well.</p> + +<p>Two breadths of Turkish tapestry hung down over +the doorway of the reception-room, thus obscuring its +interior. As Claire softly parted them and entered, +she saw her mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining stood near a white-and-gilt table +that was loaded with choice ornaments. The chamber +was one of great elegance and charm. It was all +white and gilt and pink; there were cherubs on its +ceiling throwing roses at each other; its hangings +were of rose-color, and its two or three mirrors were +framed in porcelain of rare design. A <i>connoisseur</i> +who was among Claire's admirers had once assured +her that this little room was exquisite enough to stir +the dust of Pompadour.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining did not at all look as though she +might have been any such famous ghost. Not that +she did not present a ghostly appearance. Her black +eyes seemed to be of twice their former size, so lean +and haggard was her altered face. Its cheek-bones +stood out with a sharp prominence. You saw at once +that some serious illness had wrought this wan havoc. +Her garments were dark and decent; she did not +seem to be a beggar; no rusty and shabby poverty +was manifest on her person. She had refused stoutly +to wait in the hall, and the servant who had admitted +her, being hurried with other matters, had +yielded to her insistence, yet deputed an underling +to keep watch on the reception-room after showing +her thither. Claire had not seen the sentinel, who +was stationed at a little distance up the hall, and +who joined his fellows when sure that the lady of +the house had condescended to meet this troublesome +intruder.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining looked boldly and severely at her +daughter. The drapery had fallen behind Claire's +advancing figure. The two faced each other in silence +for a lapse of time that both no doubt thought +longer than it really was. Each, in her different<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span> +way, had an acute change to confront. Claire scarcely +recognized her mother at first. Mrs. Twining, on her +own side, had good reasons to be prepared for a difference, +and the superb house had in a way told her, +too, what she might expect. But still, for all that, +this was Claire! This was her Claire, whom she had +last seen not far removed from slums and gutters—who +had gone forth from the little Greenpoint home, +not two years since, to follow her father's charity-buried +corpse! And here she stood, clad in her +white-and-purple vestments, a shape of more lovely +and high-bred elegance than any she had ever looked +upon. The face was the same—there could be no +doubt of that. But everything else—the figure, the +attire, the jewels, the velvets, the laces, the movement, +the posture, the mien ... it was all like +some fabulous, incredible enchantment.</p> + +<p>Forewarned and forearmed as she had been, Mrs. +Twining stood wonder-stricken and confused. The +soft strains of the near music seemed to speak to her +instead of Claire's own voice, and with a disdain in +their melody. She saw no disdain on Claire's face, +however, as her eyes scanned it. But it was quite +inflexible, though very pale.</p> + +<p>Claire broke the silence—if that could be called +mere silence which was for both so electric and pregnant +an interval.</p> + +<p>"You have come at a strange time. And your +note shows me that you chose it purposely."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining gave a sombre laugh. What associations +the sound woke in its hearer!</p> + +<p>"I was all ready for just this kind of a welcome," +she said, knitting her brows. She began to stare +about the room. "It's very fine. It's mighty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span> +splendid. But I wonder the walls of this house don't +fall and crush you, Claire Twining! I wonder I +ain't got the power, myself, to strike you dead with +a look!" Her voice now became a growl of menace; +there was something very genuine in her wrath, +which she had persuaded herself to believe an outgrowth +of hideous ingratitude. "But I didn't come +to show you your own badness," she went on. "You +know all about that a ready. What I've come for +is quite another kind of a thing—oh, yes, quite." +Here she laughed again, with her mouth curving +downward grimly at each corner.</p> + +<p>"What have you come for?" inquired Claire.</p> + +<p>"To get my rights!—<i>that's</i> what I've come for! +To let people see who I am, and how you've cast me +off—me, your mother. I d'clare I don't believe +there ever was so horrible a case before. Perhaps +some o' the folks in yonder can tell me if they ever +knew one."</p> + +<p>Claire kept silent for a moment. Her face was +white to the lips, but there was no sign of flinching +in it.</p> + +<p>"I did not cast you off," she said. "I left you +because you outraged and insulted the dead body of +my father. I have never regretted the step I took, +nor do I regret it now. You say you've come here +to get your rights. What rights? Shelter and food? +You shall receive these if you want them. I will +ring and give orders at once that you shall be taken +to a comfortable room and be treated with every care +that it is in my power to bestow. In spite of what +I said to you on the day when you shocked and tortured +me into saying it, I would still have sought +you out and rendered you my best aid, if I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> +known that you were ill. For I see that you have +been ill—your appearance makes that very plain. +But I had no knowledge of any such fact. You were +stronger than I when we parted—stronger, indeed, +and better able to work. This is all that I am willing +to say at present. In an hour or two I will join +you, and hear anything you may choose to tell me."</p> + +<p>While Claire was in the midst of this rather prolonged +reply, Mrs. Diggs quietly entered the room. +The speaker saw her, and did not pause for an instant, +but put forth her hand, which Mrs. Diggs +took, while she steadily watched the large, gaunt, +hollow-cheeked woman whom her friend addressed.</p> + +<p>If anything could have intensified the vast sense +of accumulated wrong in Mrs. Twining's breast, it +was this placid appearance of one who so promptly +indicated that she stood toward Claire in a supporting +and accessory attitude.</p> + +<p>"So, you'll make terms, will you?" said the parent +of Claire. "You'll browbeat me—<i>me</i>, your +mother—with your fine clothes and fine house and +fine servants? And where's my satisfaction, if you +please, Miss? Hey? Oh, I ain't any saint—you +know that, by this time. I ain't going to forget how +I laid eight months in Bellevue Hospital, crippled +and nearly dying. First it was the typhoid fever, 'n +then it was the pneumonia, 'n then it was the inflammatory +rheumatism. And where was <i>you</i>, all that +time? Spending your thousands as fast as the Wall +Street stock-gambler you'd married could scrape 'em +together. Who's this friend that steps in and looks +as if she was going to protect you? Hey? You're +both afraid I'll go in among those grand folks you've +got eating and drinking somewheres, and speak my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> +mind. You'll send me up to a comf'table room, will +you? You'll give orders to your servants about +me, will you? And s'pose I object to being treated +like a troublesome tenth or 'leventh cousin? S'pose +I go straight into where they all are, and just tell +'em the square, plain truth?" The scowl on her +wasted face was very black, now. She had made +several quick steps nearer to Claire and Mrs. Diggs. +Once or twice during this acrid tirade she had waved +one hand in front of her, and made its finger and +thumb give a contemptuous audible click. But her +voice had not noticeably lowered.</p> + +<p>Claire had been watching her with great keenness. +She had been reading her mood. By the light of the +past—the retrospective light flung from weary years +lived out at this mother's side, did this daughter now +swiftly see and as swiftly understand.</p> + +<p>"Claire," said Mrs. Diggs, spurred by an impulse +of heroic interference no less than an alarmed one, +"let me speak a few words; let me"—</p> + +<p>"No," interrupted Claire. Her simple veto seemed +to cut the air of the room. She turned and met Mrs. +Diggs's gaze for a moment, while dropping her hand. +"I thank you, Kate; but please leave all to me."</p> + +<p>Then she faced her mother's irate glare. She was +still decidedly pale, but in her clear voice there was +no hint of tremor.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said, "suppose you <i>do</i> go in and +find my friends. Suppose you <i>do</i> tell them everything. +I do not merely invite you to go; I challenge +you to go. I will even show you the way myself."</p> + +<p>"Claire!" faltered Mrs. Diggs, below her breath.</p> + +<p>Claire walked toward the curtained doorway and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> +slightly parted its draperies. She was looking at her +mother across one shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Will you come?" she asked. "I am quite +ready."</p> + +<p>The enraged look began to die from Mrs. Twining's +face. She receded a little. "I can go myself +when I choose," she muttered. "I can find the way +myself, when I'm ready. I ain't ready yet."</p> + +<p>Claire let the draperies fall. She resumed her +former position. "You will never be ready," she +said, with a melancholy scorn, "and you know it as +well as I. You thought to come here and make me +cringe with terror before you, while you threatened +and stormed. But you had no intention of bringing +matters to any crisis. You think me very prosperous, +very powerful, and very rich. You are secretly +glad that I am. You would not on any account harm +me as a person of importance; but you wanted to +keep me, as one, in a state of rule, a state of subjection. +By that means you could climb up to a place +something like my own ... so you have argued. +You would share what I have secured. You were +always a very ambitious woman. Your sickness +(which Heaven knows I am sorry enough to hear +about) hasn't changed you a particle. I thought at +first that it might have turned or clouded your brain—have +made you reckless of consequences. But it +has done nothing of the sort. You are precisely the +same as ever."</p> + +<p>Here Claire paused. Her mother had sunk into a +chair. In her working lips and the uneasy roll of +her eyes a great, abrupt dismay was evident.</p> + +<p>"I think I can guess just what has occurred to +send you here," Claire soon proceeded. "You be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span>came +sick; you got into the hospital. While you +were there a certain lady now and then visited your +bedside. You told this lady who you were. Perhaps +she asked you questions, and drew out all your +history—perhaps you gave her all of it voluntarily. +The lady was an enemy of mine. She put this and +that together. She began by suspecting; she finished +by being certain. We will say that you described +me to her with great accuracy; or we will +say that she knew I had once lived with the Bergemann +family, and that you easily recalled the fact of +Sophia Bergemann having been my friend long ago +at Mrs. Arcularius's school. It is of no consequence +how the real truth transpired; it <i>did</i> transpire. As +you grew better, the lady formed a little plot. I +think you perceived this; it is like you to have perceived +it. You saw that the lady wanted to make +you her tool, her cat's-paw."</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Twining rose, and put out both hands. +"She didn't do it, though," was her flurried exclamation. +"She thought she'd have me come here +and get up a scene. I was 'cute enough to see that. +I was reading her just like a book, all the time."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt of it," said Claire, with the +same melancholy scorn. "But you chose <i>this time</i> +at which to come. You were willing to be her accomplice +<i>that far</i>."</p> + +<p>"She wouldn't tell me where you lived nor what +was your name," protested Mrs. Twining. "She +kept putting me off whenever I asked her. She fixed +things at the hospital so's I only left it to-day; she +made 'em keep me there, though I was well enough +to quit more 'n a week ago."</p> + +<p>"She told you to-day, then, of this entertainment?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> +She told you that if you came to-day, at a certain +hour, you would find me surrounded by friends?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining set her eyes on the floor. She had +begun to tremble a little. "Well, yes, she said something +of that sort. And I knew what she was up to, +just as clear as if she'd told me she had a grudge +against you and was crazy to pay it. I was going to +stay away till the party was all over—but I ... +well, I" ...</p> + +<p>Here the speaker raised her eyes and flashed them +confusedly at her daughter. That glance was like the +expiring glow of her conquered, treacherous wrath.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Claire, I'm weak, and I can't stand +this kind of thing much longer. Let me go up to +that room and lay down. I'll wait till you come up. +We can talk more when all your big friends have +gone."</p> + +<p>"I will send a woman to you," said Claire. "You +can give her what orders you please." ...</p> + +<p>"Do you feel strong enough to go back at once?" +asked Mrs. Diggs, when she and Claire stood, presently, +in the front drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, perfectly," was Claire's answer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs kissed her. "Claire," she said, "the +more I see of you, the more you astonish me. I +thought everything was lost, and how splendidly you +turned the tables! Ah, my dear, you were born for +great things. You ought to have been on a throne. +I hate thrones. I'm a Red Republican, as I told +you the first time we met. But I'd change my politics +in a minute if you represented an absolute monarchy."</p> + +<p>Claire smiled. The color was coming back to her +cheeks. "I am on a kind of throne now," she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> +"Only it is going to pieces. Kate, you have seen +that woman. She is my mother. I wish you had +seen and known my father. Whatever strength there +is in me comes from <i>her</i>. But what little good there +is in me comes from <i>him</i>."</p> + +<p>They went back into the dining-room immediately +afterward, and Claire spoke with lightness to a few +of the ladies about having felt a temporary indisposition +which had now entirely ceased. She at once +changed the subject, and throughout the remainder +of the repast betrayed not a sign by which the most +alert watcher could have detected the least mental +disturbance.</p> + +<p>A watcher of this sort was Mrs. Lee, and both +Claire and Mrs. Diggs were certain of it. "She +hasn't tasted a morsel for three courses," soon whispered +the latter. "Upon my word, I don't think I +could be restrained from throwing a glass or a plate +at her, if I were sure it wouldn't hit somebody else. +I was always a wretched shot."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Diggs delivered another kind of missile +after the banquet had broken up and the ladies had +all passed once again into the drawing-rooms.</p> + +<p>"I want to speak with you, Sylvia, if you don't +object," she said dryly to Mrs. Lee. The latter had +opportunely strayed away from her companions; she +was pretending to scrutinize a certain painting in the +front apartment. This gave Mrs. Diggs precisely +her desired chance.</p> + +<p>"You know I've never liked you, Sylvia, and I +don't think you've ever liked me," her cousin began. +She showed no anger; her voice was so ordinary in +tone that she might have been discussing the most +commonplace of matters.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee started, and twisted herself, as usual, +into a fresh pose. "I really don't see the occasion, +Kate," she murmured, "for this vast amount of candor." +She had got back her old drawl. She was +concerned with a knot of roses at her bosom, which +had or had not become partially unfastened; her +gaze was drooped toward the roses, and thus avoided +that of her kinswoman.</p> + +<p>"You don't see the occasion for candor, Sylvia? +I do. You know just what you have tried to do this +morning. There is no use of denying."</p> + +<p>"Tried to do?" she repeated, raising her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes," sped Mrs. Diggs, with a kind of snap in +every word. "We've never liked each other, as I +said, and I preluded my remarks with this statement +because I want to show you why, from to-day +henceforward, we are open foes. You would have +had Claire Hollister's mother rush like a mad woman +into that dining-room. You wanted it. You planned, +you plotted it. There's no use of asserting that you +didn't."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee quietly threw back her head. "Oh, very +well, since the poor woman," she began, "has really +betrayed me, I"—</p> + +<p>"Betrayed you?" broke in Mrs. Diggs. "She +has done nothing of the sort. If you exacted any +promise from her, I know nothing of that—nor does +Claire. We both understood that you were behind +the whole affair, and when Mrs. Twining was taxed +with your complicity she did not presume to disavow +it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee looked at her roses again, and touched +some of their petals with a caressing hand.</p> + +<p>"If you think me culpable to have told a poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span> +wretch in a hospital the address of the daughter who +had deserted her," she said, "I am only sorry that +your code of morals should so materially differ from +mine."</p> + +<p>"Morals?" replied Mrs. Diggs, with a quick laugh +that seemed to crackle. "It's amusing, truly, to +hear such a word as that from you to me, Sylvia!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee again lifted her eyes. She was smiling, +and her small, dark head, garnished with a tiny crimson +bonnet, was set very much sideways. "My dear +Kate," she said, "did it ever occur to you how enormously +vulgar you can be at a pinch?"</p> + +<p>"I'd answer that question if I didn't see through +the trick of it. We're not talking of manners, if +you please; we're talking of morals. Do you consider +that there is anything moral in a mean, underhand +revenge? That is exactly what you resorted +to. To serve a spiteful hatred, you would have had +Mrs. Twining dart like a Fury into yonder dining-room."</p> + +<p>"If it were not unladylike, I should tell you that +you are uttering a falsehood."</p> + +<p>"Bah! You can tell me so a thousand times, if +you want. Why did you never let Claire's mother +know her marriage-name or her address until to-day? +Why did you keep her in the hospital until to-day? +Why, unless you wanted to unloose her, like a raging +lioness?"</p> + +<p>"Really, Kate, you have passed the bounds of impertinence. +You are now simply diverting."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs laughed a second time. "I intend to +divert you still further, Sylvia, before I have done +with you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee took a step or two in an oblique direc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span>tion. +The lids of her dark eyes had begun to move +rapidly. "I have the option of declining to be +bored," she answered, in a muffled voice, "unless +you intend personal violence. In that case, you +know, there are always the footmen."</p> + +<p>"Answer me one question, please, if you have a +spark of honesty left. What right had you to believe +that Claire Hollister ever wronged her mother?"</p> + +<p>"You haven't yet become violent. You are still +diverting. So I will answer. She left her alone in +poverty, neglect, and misery."</p> + +<p>"She left her after a life of tyranny and persecution. +She left her a strong, hale, able woman. She +left her with ten, twenty times as much money in +her pocket as Claire herself had—for Claire had +scarcely anything, and this persecuted heroine of a +mother had enough money to give her dead husband +decent Christian burial, yet refused it. Did she tell +you that, Sylvia, when you found her sick in the hospital? +Did she tell you how her daughter cried out +in grief, beside the very body of a dead and beloved +father, that if only he were not laid in Potter's Field—if +only he might receive holy rites of interment, +she would work, even slave, for her mother's support? +Did she tell you—this model and deeply +wronged parent—that her child got from her nothing +but a surly refusal? Did she tell you that Claire +then, and only then, resolved to leave her forever? +Did she tell you how Claire, faithful till the last, +followed her father, on foot or by street-car, to his +pauper grave, and saw the clods heaped over him as +if he had been a dead dog, while she, his lawful wife, +stayed shamelessly at home? No, Sylvia; I will +warrant that she made another plausible story, nearly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span> +all false, with just a grain of truth. And you readily +accepted it, because it suited your malicious ends to +do so!"</p> + +<p>By this time Mrs. Lee had produced an exquisite +fan of dark satin, painted with charming figures of +birds and flowers. While she used the fan, slowly +and gracefully, she answered: "And is it possible +that you credit this theatrical improbability, Kate?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs looked stern. "I don't merely believe +it—I know it," she said. "I have seen the woman. +To see her—to hear her speak, was enough. You, +too, have had both experiences."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee still slowly fanned herself. "That is +quite true. I have. The charity-burial story is the +purest nonsense, the most preposterous invention, on +your dear friend's part. That is my confident belief; +I assure you it is. Do you want me any more, Kate? +Or are you going to keep me here with your wild +tales an hour or two longer?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Diggs never in her life, with all her personal +deficiencies, looked so simply and calmly dignified as +when she responded:—</p> + +<p>"I shall keep you only a very little while longer, +Sylvia. You may or may not have wanted Claire's +mother to enter that dining-room. But you had your +hour for her coming neatly timed, and any mortification, +any distress that you could have inflicted would +have been a pleasure to you. But I think that in +all this wily and clever performance you quite failed +to remember me. I'm very staunch, very loyal to +Claire. And I give you my word that your share in +the event of to-day shall not go unpunished."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee stopped fanning herself. "Unpunished?" +she repeated, haughtily enough.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Are you surprised at the word? Let +me explain it. I merely mean that in as short a +time as I can possibly command Stuart Goldwin shall +know every detail of your recent behavior. And +pray don't have the least fear that he will disbelieve +me. He knows how devoted <i>I</i> am to Claire Hollister. +You know just how devoted to her <i>he</i> is. I +wonder in what kind of estimation he will hold you +after I have narrated my little story, not missing a +single particular ... not one, Sylvia—rest certain +of that!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee began to fan herself again, and at the +same time moved away. Mrs. Diggs's eyes followed +the slim, retreating figure. She had already seen +that her cousin's face wore an expression of pained +affright. Claire's guests had begun to make their +farewells. Mrs. Lee did not join them in this civility. +She slipped from the drawing-room, instead, unnoticed +by any one, except her late antagonist, and perhaps +Claire herself.</p> + +<p>'She will try to meet Goldwin before I do,' thought +Mrs. Diggs. 'But she will not succeed. I, too, will +leave without saying good-by to Claire, who might +not approve my scheme of chastisement if she learned +it. But it is no affair of hers. I am doing it entirely +on my own account. I propose to make Sylvia Lee +remember this day as long as she lives.'</p> + +<p>Among the carriages of the departing guests, that +of Mrs. Lee was the first one to roll away. The carriage +of Mrs. Diggs soon followed it. Both were +driven at a rapid rate, and for a certain time in the +same direction. But ultimately the courses of the +two vehicles diverged.</p> + +<p>Each lady sent a telegram to the same destination,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> +less than ten minutes afterward. And each lady, +after so doing, employed the same formula of reflection: +'He will come as soon as he receives it.'</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Diggs's summons was the more potent; +it contained the name of Claire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Goldwin</span> was the recipient of the two telegrams. +He went first (being driven rapidly in a cab from his +Wall Street place of business) to the house of Mrs. +Diggs.</p> + +<p>He remained with her for at least two hours. It +was now somewhat late in the afternoon. He dined +at his club, and by eight o'clock in the evening was +ringing the bell of Mrs. Lee's residence.</p> + +<p>She was alone, and received him with a freezing +manner. "At last you are here," she said.</p> + +<p>"At last," he replied, with careless ambiguity, +throwing himself into an arm-chair, and looking +straight at a very comfortable wood-fire that blazed +not far off.</p> + +<p>"Did you receive my telegram?"</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"In time to come to me when it entreated you to +come?"</p> + +<p>"I received it this afternoon. I have been prevented +from making my appearance until now."</p> + +<p>His voice was quite as cold and distant as her own. +She went up to his chair and laid her hand upon its +arm.</p> + +<p>"Your manner is very abrupt and strange," she +said, in greatly softened tones. "Has anything +occurred?"</p> + +<p>He turned and met her look. He nodded <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span>significantly +once or twice before answering. "Yes, something +has occurred, most decidedly. Can't you guess +what it is? If so, you will save me the distress of +explaining."</p> + +<p>For several moments she was silent. "I suppose +you mean that you have seen Kate Diggs," she then +hazarded.</p> + +<p>He nodded again. "I have," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Lee, with an airy satire. "Then +she must have made a very strong case against me, as +the lawyers phrase it."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly she has," he answered, rising. "I +have heard the prosecution; do you want me to hear +the defense?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I demand that you shall do so," she +exclaimed, "although I don't at all like the word you +describe it by! I have no need whatever of defending +myself."</p> + +<p>Goldwin gave one of his rich, mellow laughs. The +twinkle had come back to his eye; all his wonted +geniality seemed to reclothe him. And yet his companion +rather felt than saw that it was worn as an +ironical disguise.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, I think you have been very +hardly treated," he declared. The sting of the real +sarcasm pierced her, then, and she sensibly recoiled. +"You ought to have been allowed the privilege of +witnessing your little scandalous comedy, after you +had planned it so cleverly. How you must have suffered +when it all went off in so tame and quiet a +way!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee, pale and with kindling eyes, slightly +stamped one small foot. The sound wrought by +this action was faint, though quite audible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You believe all that Kate Diggs has told you!" +she exclaimed. "You think I wanted a public scene. +It is not true. I wanted her to be humiliated by +her own conscience at a time when she thought herself +most enviable, most lofty. I had no other motive. +It was not revenge. It never was anything +like revenge."</p> + +<p>Goldwin's face had sobered, but he made a little +shrug of the shoulders, which was like him at his +brisk, mercurial best. He had plainly seen her +falsehood. "Why on earth do you use the word?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>She recoiled once more. "Use the word?" she +half stammered, as if thrown off her guard by this +unexpected thrust. A moment afterward she went +on, with renewed vehemence, all her native drawl +flurriedly quickened by excitement. "I used it because +Kate Diggs used it—because she presumed to +say that I brought that poor, suffering, deserted, outraged +mother face to face with her daughter for this +reason. I don't doubt that Kate has invented the +same nonsense for you that she tried to foist upon +me. She is very loyal to her friend. She has most +probably told you that Mrs. Twining was always a +monster to her daughter, and that she insisted on +having her dead husband buried by charity, in spite +of prayers, supplications, adjurations from the bereaved +offspring. For my own part, I choose utterly +to discredit this trumped-up tale. I never heard +anything that resembled it from the feeble lips of the +wretched woman who had lain for weeks in the hospital. +I only heard"—</p> + +<p>Goldwin here broke in with a voice more hard and +stern than any which Mrs. Lee had known to leave +his lips.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you will pardon me for saying so, I do not wish to continue +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'wish to continue your listener.'">as</ins> your listener. If you think my interruption +outrageously rude, then let me admit with +frankness that I can not—yes, literally <i>can</i> not—endure +what you now choose to state."</p> + +<p>She gave her small, dark head a passionate toss. +"You can't endure it," she cried, "because you think +that woman perfection! You can hear nothing that +is not in her praise. You used to tell me that you +thought Kate Diggs ridiculous; you used to laugh at +her as a wild, eccentric creature. And now you are +willing to credit her fictions."</p> + +<p>"They are not fictions," said Goldwin. "All she +told me to-day was pure truth. Don't try any longer +to shake my credence of it. Your efforts will not +avail, I assure you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lee shivered. She put both hands up to her +face, pressing them there for a moment, and then +suddenly removed them. She set her dark eyes on +Goldwin's face; they were glittering moistly.</p> + +<p>"You think I edged that woman on, to serve purposes +of revenge," she faltered. "Well, Stuart, if I +did so, what was my real reason?"</p> + +<p>Goldwin was drawing something from an inner +side-pocket of his evening-coat. "Truly," he said, +in dry, tepid tones, "I have no idea." He fidgeted +with the required something while he thus spoke. +The next moment he had produced it. It was a slim +packet of letters.</p> + +<p>"I want to give you these," he said, with a brief, +formal bow.</p> + +<p>He handed her the packet. She examined it for +several minutes.</p> + +<p>"My letters," she murmured.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your letters," he answered, with a slight repetition +of his recent bow.</p> + +<p>She thrust the packet into her bosom. "You ... +you have <i>kept</i> all these?" she questioned, after hiding +them.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said.</p> + +<p>"And you give them back to me now," she pursued, +"with a meaning? Well, with what meaning?"</p> + +<p>Goldwin walked quietly toward the doorway that +led into the adjacent hall. "Oh, if you want the +meaning put brutally," he said, using a tone and demeanor +of much suavity, "I ... I—well, I am +tired."</p> + +<p>"Tired?" she repeated. Her next sentence was a +sort of gasp. "You—you hate me for what I have +done!"</p> + +<p>"I did not say that." His foot was almost on the +threshold of the door while he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Stuart!" she exclaimed, hurrying toward him. +The lithe symmetry of her shape was very beautiful +now; her worst detractor could not have said otherwise. +She felt that the man whom she loved was +leaving her forever. She put a hand on either of his +shoulders. She tried to look into his eyes while he +averted his own.</p> + +<p>"Will you leave me like this?" she went on. +"You knew me long before you knew <i>her</i>! Don't +let us quarrel. I—I confess everything. I—I have +been very foolish. But you won't be too harsh with +me—you will forgive, will you not?"</p> + +<p>He did not answer her. He removed her hands. +Then he receded from her.</p> + +<p>"Stuart!" she still appealed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have given you back your letters," he responded, +standing quite near the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Tell me one thing—do you love her? Is it because +you love her that you want to part from me? +I—I have scarcely seen you for weeks. You once +said that a day wasn't a day unless you had seen me. +Do you remember? I've been stupid. But you won't +mind so much when you've let me explain more. +Don't go quite yet. Stay a moment, and" ...</p> + +<p>He had passed quietly from her sight. She waited +until she heard the clang of the outer hall door. +Then she understood what a knell it meant. The +alienation must now be life-long. She had made +him despise her, and she could never win him back. +Seated before the fire, that snapped and flashed as if +in jeering glee at her own misery, she wept tears that +had a real pathos in them—the pathos of a repulsed +love. She had never believed herself at fault in her +conduct toward Claire. Jealousy had speedily blackened +the filial act of her rival, but in any case the +story, as Mrs. Twining told it, would have roused +her conviction that this desertion had been a most +unnatural and cruel one. So esteeming it, she had +played the part of castigator. She was not sure that +she would have done very differently if Claire had +not been at all an object of her hatred. She had not +found the least difficulty in persuading herself that +it was wholly a moral deed to use with vengeful intent +knowledge which she would have been justified +in using with an intent merely punitory.</p> + +<p>But now she had wrecked all her own future by +seeking to destroy Claire's. Mrs. Twining had +broken faith and betrayed her. The passion which +she felt for Goldwin was an irrecoverable one. Her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span> +detestation of the woman who had caused their ceaseless +parting grew as she wept over the ruin of her +hopes, and mingled its ferocious heat with the more +human tenderness of her tears. She passed a lurid +hour, there in her little picturesque parlor; she was +in spiritual sympathy, so to speak, with its Oriental +equipments. She could have understood some of +those clandestine assassinations which the poisoned +draught, the stealthy bow-string, and the ambushed +scimitar have bequeathed to history and legend. +Her past pietistic fervors had left her with no memento +of consolation. A stormy turbulence had +taken hold of her mental being, and shaken it as a +blast will shake a bough. In her sorrow she was still +a woman; in her hate she was something grossly below +it.</p> + +<p>She at length remembered the letters that he had +returned to her, and drew them forth from her +bosom. For a moment the anguish of loss gained +mastery in her soul, and she held the packet clasped +between both hands, her eyes blinded to any sight of +them, and her frame convulsed with racking, internal +sobs. She knew that she must read them all over +again, and thus replunge into coverts of memory +whose very charm and fragrance would deepen her +despair. To re-peruse each letter would be like prying +open the slab of a grave.</p> + +<p>A sudden impulse assailed her as the violence of +her grief subsided. She rose, and raised the letters +in one hand, meaning to hurl them into the opposite +blaze, and thus spare herself, while the destructive +mood lasted, fresh future pangs. But at this moment +her glance lighted on the packet itself. It +was of moderate thickness, and tied together by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> +strip of ordinary cord. Inside the cincture so made, +and held there insecurely by one sharp corner, a +folded paper had caught, which seemed foreign to +the remaining contents. Mrs. Lee disengaged this +paper, opened it, and cast her tear-blurred eyes, carelessly +enough at first, over some written lines which +she had immediate certainty were not her own.</p> + +<p>But presently a little cry left her lips. She turned +the page with a rapid jerk, searching for a signature. +She did not find any, but found merely two initials +instead. She dropped into her seat again, and with +a fire in her dark eyes that seemed to have quickly +dried their last trace of moisture, she read, pausing +over nearly every word, and pondering every sentence, +a letter which ran thus:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="right"> +<i>Friday.</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Goldwin</span>,—I think that I meant all +the harsh treatment I gave you last evening. When +I recall what my feelings then were, I am certain +that my indignation was quite sincere. But very +much has happened since then to change me, and +to change my surroundings as well. I suppose I am +in a most reckless mood while I write these lines: +my head is hot, and my hands are cold, and tremble +so that the words I am shaping have a strange, unfamiliar +look, as though I myself were not writing +them at all. Well, for that matter, the same woman +whom you lately parted from is not writing them. +Another woman has taken her place. She is a wayward, +desperate sort of creature; she is a coward, an +ingrate, a worthless and feeble egotist.</p> + +<p>But this new identity of mine will last. I have +made up my mind to take a bold step, and nothing +can now deter me. I shall not be explicit; at some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> +other time I will send for you and tell you everything. +You shall hear my reasons for acting as I +propose to act. I don't claim that they are strong or +good reasons, and yet I feel that they contain a certain +propulsion—they push me on. My marriage +has been an irreparable mistake; I can't go back +and live the last year over again; I can't repossess +my yesterdays. Hence, I have become willful and +headstrong about my to-morrows. If I had ever +really loved Herbert, all would now be so different! +But I have never loved anybody who is now +living. There you have a frigid confession. You +never roused in me anything but a decided liking; +that other woman—the woman who called herself +by my name a few hours ago—used to disapprove a +good deal that there is about you. But my new self +will doubtless pass over these faults very indulgently; +she will have enough of her own to account for. +Still, she can never do more than think you good +company. I fancy that when I was a very young +child nature locked up a certain cell of my heart, +and then threw away the key where no one can ever +find it.</p> + +<p>I mean to go abroad, very secretly, after the sale +of certain property and chattels shall have put me +in possession of the needed funds. It will be a flight—and +a flight from more than you are yet aware of. +If we meet abroad—say in Paris—I may even +stoop to discuss with you that question of a divorce. +It is horrible for me to write these words. It is sin, +and I feel the stab of it. But surely Herbert deserves +to be rid of me, and perhaps he will come in +time to value his freedom. I should want him to +have the right of marrying again. Would not that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span> +be a possible arrangement? I know almost nothing +of the law on these points.</p> + +<p>It does not now seem conceivable that I should +ever become your wife after I had ceased to be his. +I have had enough of marriage without love. But +if you should prevail with me, it would be only because +of your great wealth, and the ease and distinction +that are now slipping away from me. You see +I am hideously candid; I don't mince matters ... +where would be the use?</p> + +<p>Do not answer this, but destroy it immediately. +In regard to the last request, I count with perfect +confidence upon your honor. Were it not that I did +so, I should never send you this imprudent, daring, +perilous scrawl.</p> + +<p>Do not come to me until I send for you. I cannot +tell how long that will be.</p> + +<p class="right"> +C. H. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Before Mrs. Lee refolded the letter which contained +these words, she had read them through certainly +five successive times.</p> + +<p>Not until then had she made up her mind just +what to do. She would put the letter in an envelope, +and direct this, very legibly, to Herbert Hollister. +Her determination was as fixed as fate....</p> + +<p>When her guests had all departed, on the afternoon +of this same day, Claire slowly walked the spacious +drawing-rooms for at least twenty minutes, +with her eyes bent upon the floor.</p> + +<p>She felt literally hunted down. The end had +come; the clock had struck twelve, and her fineries +were rags, her coach-and-four was a pumpkin and +mice. She had carried it off well until the very +last; she was sure of this, and the surety gave her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span> +even now, a bitter pleasure. She had no doubt that +the coming of her mother, with imperative demands +of support and countenance, would mean a return of +all the old taunts and gibes. If Claire's wealthful +life of to-day had been destined to continue, this +prospect would have opened a less dreary vista; as +it was, she foresaw only a dropping back into the +former ruts and sloughs of maternal acrimony and +intolerance. The history of her past would in a +manner repeat itself. There would be poverty again, +or something closely akin to it; there would be the +mother's unpardoning disapprobation of her child's +ill-favored lot. For one marked difference, Herbert +would be present, as a fresh, assertive force. And +what a miserably adverse force it must prove! To +exist with him would be hard enough, now, under +any circumstances. But if he felt perpetually the +shadow and weight of this second gloomy and heavy +personality, what new hostile traits might not his depression, +his impatience, his revolt develop?</p> + +<p>Claire tried to take a very calm survey of the +whole potential consequence. In so doing she regarded +the advent of her mother as one factor that +consorted with other untoward agencies; the central +knot of the tangle would be wrought of several tough +and stubborn threads. There could be no unraveling +it. 'But the knot could be cut,' she thought, +silently continuing her metaphor, as she paced the +stately rooms.</p> + +<p>It sent a thrill of actual terror to her when she +reflected <i>how</i> the knot could be cut. To the feet +that have set their tread on slippery ways, evil can +do much downward work by a gentle push. Claire +felt herself lapsing, now....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span></p> + +<p>What if she wrote to Stuart Goldwin a letter very +different from the one she had already written him, +and which was then hid under the fleecy laces that +clad her bosom? What if she told him that she +must fly from it all?—the love that she had outraged +by cold hypocrisy, the keen if mute reproaches +that would be punishment and torture alike, the +thrusts and innuendoes from a tongue whose venom +had poisoned her childhood, the tarnish in place of +splendor, the dullness in place of brilliance, the obscurity +in place of prominence, the service in place of +mastery—perhaps even the toil in place of ease?</p> + +<p>She tried, in a pitiable way, to rebuff temptation +by taking the sole means at hand of ending these +desperate reflections. In reality she took the most +cogent means of rendering temptation more potent. +She tightened its black clutch on her soul; she went +upstairs and talked with her mother.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twining had been securely convalescent some +time ago. She had passed through a complicated +and dangerous illness; she had given Death odds, +yet won with him. She was still subject to those attacks +of fatigue which are inevitable with one who +has proved victor in so grim a wrestle. But she had +once more gained a very firm foothold on that solidity +which bounds one known side, at least, of the +valley of the shadow. She intended, in a physical +sense, to live a good many years longer; her freshening +vitality was like that of a fire in a forest, which +has stretched an arm of flame across a bare space, +at the risk of not reaching it, but in the end has +caught a mighty supply of woodland fuel.</p> + +<p>Claire found her stretched quite luxuriously on a +lounge, with a little table beside her, which held the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span> +remains of a hearty repast. She had the traditional +vast appetite of the recovering invalid. She had devoured +enough to have sunk a hearty person of average +digestion into abysses of dyspepsia. She had +enjoyed her meal very much. It had appeared to +her as an earnest of many similar joys.</p> + +<p>She promptly began a series of her old characteristic +sarcasms and slurs as soon as Claire appeared. +Mingled with them was an atmosphere of odious congratulation—a +sort of verbal patting on the back—which +her daughter found even more baneful than +her half-latent sneers. She was thoroughly refreshed; +her food (mixed with some admirable claret) had +gone straight to the making of bodily repairs. She +had never had anything so fine and wholesome in the +hospital, though after the patronage of Mrs. Lee she +had been supplied with not a few agreeable dainties. +The temporary result was that she had become in a +great measure her real self.</p> + +<p>Claire said very little. She did a large amount of +listening. She had never known her mother not to +be without a grudge of some sort. It brought back +the past with a piercing vividness, now, while she +sat and heard. The vision of a pale, refined face, +lit by soft, dark-blue eyes, rose before her, and the +memory of many a wanton assault, many a surreptitious +wound, appealed to her as well. Her father +had stood it all so bravely—he had been such a gentleman +through it all! <i>She</i> had stood it only with +a sturdy, rebellious disapproval through many of the +years that preceded his death.</p> + +<p>She stood it, now, with a weary tranquillity. When +she went away from her mother, these were her parting +words:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"I do not think I shall tell my husband, for some +few days, that you are here. There are reasons why +I should not. He has some very engrossing matters +to occupy him. But you will be perfectly comfortable +in the meanwhile. Order what you please. The +servants will obey you in every particular. If you +should need me, I will come immediately. You have +only to send me word. I shall be at home for the +rest of to-day, and all through the evening."</p> + +<p>Claire went into her own private sitting-room, after +that. When she had been there a little while, she +had torn up her first letter to Goldwin. When she +had been there a little while longer, she had written +the second letter. Having finished the last, she +promptly dispatched it, by messenger, to Goldwin's +private address.</p> + +<p>Between the hours of ten and eleven that same +evening, the following note from Goldwin was +brought to Claire:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="right"> +<i>Friday Night.</i> +</p> + +<p>In some unaccountable way I have lost the letter +which you sent me to-day. I feel in honor bound to +tell you of this loss, after a protracted search through +my apartments and numerous inquiries and directions +at my club. I cannot sufficiently blame myself for +not having at once burned it to a crisp. But I thrust +it into my pocket after many readings, with the wish +to learn each word by heart before it was finally destroyed. +Do not feel needlessly worried. I shall do +my best to recover it, and even if it should be read +by other eyes than yours and mine, the fact of your +mere initials being signed to it is an immense safeguard.</p> + +<p class="right"> +S. G. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Claire had grown deathly pale as she finished the +perusal of this note. She had prepared herself for +a night of wretched unrest, but here was a dagger to +murder sleep with even surer poignance.</p> + +<p>It was past midnight when she heard Hollister go +to his apartments. She fancied that his step was a +little unsteady. If this was true, no vinous exhilaration +made it so. An excitement of most opposite +cause would have explained the altered tread.</p> + +<p>A saving hand had interposed between himself +and ruin. The chance had been given him of starting +again—of meeting all the fiercest of his creditors, +and appeasing them. Instead of utter wreck, +he had chiefly to think of retrenchment. Perhaps +what Claire believed unsteadiness in his step was a +brief pause near her own door. But even if an impulse +to tell her the good news may for a moment +have risen uppermost, there must have swept over +him, promptly and sternly, the recollection of a dark +and sundering discovery.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Claire, wondering if the lost letter had, +through any baleful chance, drifted into his hands, +lay pierced by that affrighted remorse which a monition +of detected guilt will bring the most hardened +criminal, and which of necessity strikes with acuter +fang the soul of one yet a neophyte in sin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Hollister</span> passed downstairs the next morning +at a little after nine o'clock. He had obtained some +sleep, of which he stood in sad need. The cheerful +elasticity of his temperament would have placed him, +by natural rebound, well in the sunlight of awakened +hope and invigorated energy, and after hours of miserable +disquiet he would now have felt relieved and +peaceful, but for one leaden and insuperable fact. +This had no relation whatever with financial turmoils +and embarrassments; it concerned Claire, and the +desolate difference with which her image now rose +before his spirit.</p> + +<p>He had told her that they must henceforth be as +strangers, but already the deeps of his unselfish love +were stirred by a longing, no less illogical than passionate, +to make reality of what had once been illusion, +and to verify Claire's indifference through some +unknown spell of transformation into that warmth +which had thus far proved only lifeless counterfeit. +Already Hollister found within him a spacious capacity +of pardon toward his wife. Already he had +begun to exonerate, to make allowances; and more +than all, he had already told himself that to live on +without her love would be a hundredfold better than +to part with her companionship. Here cropped out +the old vein of complaisance and conciliation which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> +had run through his earlier collegiate life, and which +later experiences amid all sorts of risk and rivalry +had never wholly obscured. It had been his power to +concede, his amiable pliancy, wed with a peculiar intellectual +shrewdness, that had gone far toward the +accomplishment of his phenomenal successes. The +man who makes the best of things by instinct is very +apt to have the best of things made for him by fortune.</p> + +<p>His inalienable love for Claire caused him to regard +her long hypocrisy with fondly lenient eyes. +The wrong done himself rapidly took a secondary +place; it was nearly always thus with Hollister, +except in those grosser cases of wanton injury from +his own sex; and now, when it became a matter between +his heart and the woman that heart devotedly +loved, he was ready to forego a most liberal share of +the usual human egotism.</p> + +<p>He had a hard day before him. Exertion, diplomacy, +astuteness, concentration, all were needed. He +was still to fall, but no longer with a headlong plunge. +He would now fall on his feet, as it were, but it +required a certain agile flexibility to make the descent +a graceful one. At any other time he would +promptly have left the house after breakfasting. As +it was, he waited for Claire. She appeared sooner +than he had expected her. She had drank her coffee +upstairs. He saw her figure, clad in a morning robe +of pale-tinted cachemire, enter the front drawing-room. +He had lighted a cigarette, and was standing +beside the hearth, where a riotous fire flung merry +crimson challenge to the sharp weather outside. He +at once threw away his cigarette, and went forward +to meet her.</p> + +<p>She perceived him when he had gained the centre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span> +of the second drawing-room. She stood perfectly +still, awaiting his approach. There was more than a +chill misgiving at her heart lest some inimical hand +had sent him her own fatal letter. She did not +know how she would act in case he immediately accused +her. Hours of sleepless unrest had not supplied +her with a single defensive plea.</p> + +<p>The new serenity on Hollister's face struck her at +a glance. It gave her a sudden relief; it was like a +reprieve just before execution. When he said "good +morning" she answered him with the same words. +She wondered if he had already noticed her pallor, or +that a dark line lay under either eye. Her dressing-mirror +had told her of these changes.... Might he +not guess at sight the guilty agony that she had been +enduring?</p> + +<p>Her altered looks were not lost upon him. They +were a new intercession in her behalf. "I have good +news for you," he said, almost tenderly. He went +toward the richly-draped mantel just opposite where +she stood, and leaned one arm along its edge. He +purposely let his eye wander a little, so that she +would suspect in him no intentness of scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"Good news?" she repeated, softly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I thought it was all up with me, yesterday. +But a friend of yours has placed funds at my disposal +which will enable me, with wise management, +to weather the worst of the storm. He dropped into +my office at a very critical moment. He used the +nicest delicacy and tact. Before I actually realized +that he was offering me very substantial aid, he had +done so. And yet, with all his graceful method, he +didn't beat about the bush. He was frankly straightforward. +He said just why he wished to see my af<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span>fairs +righted—or at least creditably mended. That +reason was his deep respect and sincere admiration +for you. He told me, with a winning mixture of +humor and seriousness, that you represented for him +the one great repentance of his bachelorhood. And +when I looked at his world-worn sort of face and his +decidedly gray locks, and began to wonder whether +he meant his amazing proposition in any unpleasant +sense, he assured me that he had always seen in you, +the daughter whom he had possibly missed being the +father of.... Of course you now recognize his portrait; +or have I not drawn it clearly enough?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Beverley Thurston?" asked Claire.</p> + +<p>"Yes. You see, now, how generous an act of +friendship he performed."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see," Claire murmured.</p> + +<p>"The funds he proffered—and which I accepted—are +by no means all his own. His influence is so +great, his standing is so secure, that he has actually +been able to associate four well-known capitalists +(one of whom, by the way, chanced to be my personal +friend) in carrying out this wonderfully benevolent +work." Here Hollister paused for a considerable +space. "Of course," he at length went on, "I +shall not do more than just escape a positive deadlock. +The next few years must be full of cautious +living and thinking. I have accepted the burden of +a huge debt; but I believe firmly in my power to +pay it off. And I have learned a lesson that I shall +always profit by. They shall never call me a Wall +Street king again. I have seen my last of big ventures. +I shall want, if I can manage hereafter when +every penny of liabilities shall be settled, to drift +slowly but safely into a steady banking channel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span> +I shall have friends enough left on the Street; I +shan't have lost caste; I shall still hold my own. +At least twenty good men have gone clean down in +this flurry, without a chance of ever picking themselves +up again. But I am going to pick myself up—that +is, thanks to the helping hand of your precious +elderly friend; for I could never have done it +alone."</p> + +<p>Claire knew not what to answer. She was thinking +of the sweet, deceitful kindliness that Thurston +had employed. She was thinking how little she deserved +his timely and inestimable support. She was +asking herself whether he would not have shrunk in +sorrowful contempt from all such splendid almsgiving +if he had known the real truth concerning her +recent mad and sinister act.</p> + +<p>While she was trying to shape some sort of adequate +reply, the entrance of a servant rendered this +unnecessary. The man handed Hollister a letter, +bowed, and departed.</p> + +<p>Claire's heart instantly began to beat hard and +fast. A mist obscured her gaze while she watched +Hollister tear open the envelope and unfold its contents. +There was a sofa quite near; she sank into +it; she felt dizzy enough to close her eyes. But she +did not. She looked straight at her husband, and saw +him begin a perusal of the unfolded sheet. Was it +her letter to Goldwin? Why should she even fancy +this? Were there not hundreds of other sources +whence a letter might come to Herbert?</p> + +<p>In a very little while she saw her husband grow +exceedingly pale. He left off reading; he looked at +her, and said: "Did you write this?" He held the +paper out toward her as he spoke.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span></p> + +<p>Claire rose, crossed the room, and cast her eyes +over the extended page.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is mine," she answered him.</p> + +<p>The voice did not seem his own in which he presently +said: "I must read it. I must read it with +my full attention. If I leave you for a little while, +will you remain here until I return?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said.</p> + +<p>"You promise this?"</p> + +<p>"I promise—yes."</p> + +<p>Without another word to her, he walked back into +the dining-room. Perhaps twenty good minutes +passed before he returned. Claire had meanwhile +nerved herself to meet something terrible. She had +no idea what her husband's wrath would be like, but +she felt that there might almost be death in it.</p> + +<p>Hollister had hardly begun to address her before +she perceived that he did not reveal a single trace of +wrath. His eyes were much brighter than usual; he +had not a vestige of color; his voice was low and of +an increased unfamiliarity, but it did not contain the +slightest sign of indignation.</p> + +<p>She had seated herself on the sofa again, and he +now came very close to her, standing while he spoke. +He held the letter in his hand, which trembled a +little.</p> + +<p>"You wrote this to Goldwin, and it has been lost +by him. Some one else has found it, and sent it to +me. The handwriting on the envelope is not his."</p> + +<p>Claire looked at him in blank amazement. It did +not seem to her that he could possibly be the man +whom she had thus far known as Herbert Hollister. +He appeared radically and utterly changed. She +could not understand just where the change lay, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span> +in what it consisted. She was too bewildered to analyze +it or in any way draw conclusions from it. She +was simply pierced with a pungent sense of its existence.</p> + +<p>"He lost it," she said. "He wrote me that he +had lost it. You are right in thinking that some one +else has sent it to you."</p> + +<p>She wondered what he would now say. She forgot +even to feel shame in his presence. She was asking +herself what had so completely altered him. Why +was he neither angry nor reproachful? The very +expression of his features looked strangely unusual. +It was almost as if the spirit of some new man had +entered into his body.</p> + +<p>"Whoever has sent this," he soon said, "is your +enemy, and wishes you great harm. But thank God +I have it!" He crushed the paper in his hand, immediately +afterward, and thrust it within his pocket. +Claire rose from the sofa. Her hands hung at either +side, in a helpless way. Her eyes were still fastened +upon his face.</p> + +<p>"Are you acting a part?" she asked, with a sort +of weary desperation. "I realize that I have done +a horrible thing. But tell me at once what course +you mean to take. If I am to leave your house, and +never to be noticed by you again, order me to go, and +I will go. The letter shows you that I care nothing +for that man. I don't make excuses; I have none to +make. But I am not an adulteress even in thought. +Remember what I say. My sin, dark as it is, has not +that one hideous element. I wanted to desert you—to +go abroad—you read the whole story in the letter. +You have only to speak the word, and you shall have +looked on me for the last time.... It is your silence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span> +that tortures me.... Why are you silent? Here I +stand before you, without a shadow of right to defend +myself, and yet you force from me a certain kind of +miserable defense, because you will not either rebuke +or denounce me."</p> + +<p>He had been looking at her very steadily. He +now caught one of her hands in both his own.</p> + +<p>"Claire," he said, "I have only one wish—one +thought: to save you."</p> + +<p>"Save me?" she repeated.</p> + +<p>He went on speaking with great speed. His eyes +were fixed on her own, and they were filled with a +light that was rich and sweet. She had never known +him to be like this before; he was just as tender +as of old, but beneath his tenderness there was a +strength, a decision, a virile assertion, that gave him +a new, startling personality.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "to save you. There is no great +mischief done, as it is. I think some woman sent +me your letter. It is just what some envious or +spiteful woman would do. But I have it, and can +destroy it. You ask me what course I mean to take. +You ask me whether I shall bid you to leave my +house. My only answer, Claire, is this: if you have +no love for me, then I have a very great love for you. +I think you knew this long ago. I am your friend, +poor child—not only your husband, but your friend. +You shan't go wrong while I have the brain and the +nerve to stand between you and folly. Other men +might take another course. I don't care. You are +pure, still; I am certain of it, and you shall remain +pure. You are my wife; I will protect you; it's +my duty to protect you. You have never loved me; +you married me without a spark of love. But I gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span> +you as large a love as man ever gave to woman. +It's in my heart still. It can never die. If it were +not so large and so true it would not seek to guard +and shield you now. But it does—it must.... +Claire, Claire, you have been terribly foolish! A +little more, and I could have done nothing to save +you. A little more, and I must have cast you off. +But as it is, I can and will plant myself between +you and disgrace!"</p> + +<p>He had been holding her hand all through the utterance +of these words. But now he released it, and +slightly withdrew from her.</p> + +<p>She advanced toward him. There was a look of +absolute awe on her face. She recognized how much +her own blindness had been hiding from her. His +very stature seemed to have risen. His tolerance +appealed to her with sublimity. It flashed through +her mind: 'What other man would have acted as he +has done?'</p> + +<p>In a few brief moments she knew him as the noble +and high being he really was. The tears besieged +her eyes. The enormity of the wrong she had done +him horrified her. She stood quivering in his presence. +The impulse assailed her literally to kneel +before him. She grasped his arm; her dry, tearless +eyes searched his pale face with a madness of contrition +in their look.</p> + +<p>"Herbert," she faltered.... "Herbert, I—I +never knew till now that you could be so grand and +strong! What kept me from loving you was your +own love for <i>me</i>. It seemed to make you weak; it +seemed to put you below me. You were always +yielding to me—always paying me reverence. But +<i>I</i> should have bowed before <i>you</i>. You were worthy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span> +of it, and I did not see ... I never saw till now!... +Herbert, <i>I love you</i>!... Oh, these are not +idle words! They spring straight from my soul! +If you want the repentance of my future life, it is +yours! Why did you not show me your real self till +so late? What shall I do to prove my love? You +must not pardon me so easily—no, I cannot endure +that! It makes me sick with shame to be treated +so! Such a mercy would be cruelty. You must +punish me, somehow—I must undergo some penance, +the harder the better. You have no right to +trust me again until I have passed through some sort +of cleansing fire—suffered, been mortified, humiliated, +taught a stern and fearful lesson! You gave +me everything; there was nothing in the world I +did not owe to you; you lifted me from dependence +into the most brilliant prosperity. And I—Good +Heavens! I was a viper of ingratitude! I might +call it madness; I might say that the lust for riches +and power made me conceive this treacherous and +contemptible idea of deserting you—made me decide +that we could not live together when the wealth +had gone. But it was no madness—there was too +clear a method in it for that. It was merely base +and mean—it can have no palliative.... Herbert, +don't look at me with any love, any pity in your face. +I can't bear it—I—I want to creep away somewhere +and die. I am not fit to have you touch me—No, +no! you <i>must</i> not!" ...</p> + +<p>She had receded from him; she meant to quit the +room, though her limbs felt weak and her head +giddy, and she was not sure whether she could reach +the doorway without falling. But on a sudden his +arms clasped her. How strong they seemed! She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span> +had never till now had so keen a sense of even his +bodily strength. When his lips touched her own +she burst into tears. She was still struggling to free +herself, but he held her too firmly; she could not +escape.</p> + +<p>"Claire," she heard him say, with a tenderness of +tone more exquisite than any he had yet used, "I +couldn't help forgiving you, dear, no matter how +hard I might try. Oh, darling, let us begin all over +again! You say that you do love me at last! Well, +I believe you! <i>I want to believe you, and I will!</i> +How could I ever punish you? You haven't been so +greatly to blame—don't torment yourself by thinking +you have. People were flattering and courting +you; they made you a perfect queen; they turned +your head. Now all that is over. I think there is +a great happiness in store for us both, my love—a +happiness that the money never brought us while it +lasted. Perhaps, after all, it is better that I should +find you weak. It makes you more human in my +sight. I shan't bow down before you any more, as +you say that I did; I shall only love you ... love +you forever—love you till death, and beyond it, too, +I hope!"</p> + +<p>He was kissing her cheek as he uttered these final +words; but it had already seemed to take a certain +chill, and in another moment he was forced to bear +up her form, for it had no power whatever of self-support. +She had fainted in his arms....</p> + +<p>She found him close beside her when she regained +consciousness. She lay upon the lounge in her own +dressing-room upstairs. He was bathing her forehead +with cologne, and holding to her nostrils a +handkerchief drenched with it. He had begun to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span> +be alarmed at her continued swoon. The first thing +that her eyes reopened upon was his smile of glad +relief.</p> + +<p>The light of that smile stayed with Claire through +years. It bathed her life in perpetual sunshine.</p> + +<p>Everything altered in a few more weeks. They +left the great house and went to live in the smaller +one, which Claire personally owned, and which Hollister +would not let her give back to him, though she +pleaded with him more than once on this subject.</p> + +<p>"No," he would always say. "It is yours, and +that means it is mine as well. I meant, when the +crash first came, that you should keep it, and I was +glad that the law made it yours. If I let you give +it back to me, this would look as if I had lost faith +in you. And I have lost no faith; I have gained a +new faith—that is all."</p> + +<p>'To think that I should ever have known this man +and not have loved him!' she would say to herself +again and again.</p> + +<p>Every successive day brought with it a dear surprise. +She felt toward her husband as though his +nature were a region through which she had journeyed +heedlessly but was now revisiting with sharpened +vision, vitalized intelligence. Traits and qualities +that she could not but remember him to have +possessed, now assumed a beauty, a harmony, a proportion, +an allurement that she had never before +dreamed of recognizing. A fresh light, so to speak, +flooded the beloved landscape of his character. Vale, +grove, wayside, were all preciously different from of +old. Over them sang awakened birds, and still higher +leaned a shining sky, fond, fathomless, prophetic.</p> + +<p>Very few of their former fashionable acquaintances<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span> +showed the slightest sign of deserting them. Hollister +had been one of the many victims of the dire +panic, but it soon became generally understood that +he was going to make honorable settlement with his +creditors—that he was on the list of the seriously +wounded, so to speak, and not on that of the killed. +In many instances there was even an increase of +civility. Cards were left at the door of the small +house, just as they had been left at the door of the +more spacious one. Society made it a matter of +<i>amour propre</i> not to drop them. It had taken them +up; it could not afford to discountenance them for +the single fault of a reduced income. The thorough-paced +plutocrat is always very slow to admit his +claims founded on anything so vulgar as a purely +mercenary basis; and the aristocrat, on the other +hand, will very often pay you a kind of proud loyalty +when he has once openly ranked you as his equal. +Moreover, both Claire and her husband had an ample +personal popularity to fall back upon. They had +been graceful and charming young figures, felicitously +harmonizing with their festal background. Their absence +left a sensible void.</p> + +<p>But it was an absence, and as such it continued. +Claire's love for the superficial glitter and pomp of +what she had always inwardly felt to be sham and +falsity was no longer even a dumb sensation. It had +become the merest memory, and by no means a pleasant +one. She had changed for the last time in her +life. The change was securely permanent, now. If +she looked into the future and asked herself what +unfulfilled desire lay there, it was always to thrill +with the hope that Herbert might one day be rid of +all financial worriment, and that their home, already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span> +lit and warmed by a precious mutual love, might receive +the blessing of a happy tranquillity as well.</p> + +<p>For a long time this hope looked very far from +being realized. She was untiringly devoted to his +interests, and would hold long talks with him regarding +the complicated and distracting nature of his affairs. +Her apt mind, her ready and shrewd counsel, +no longer surprised him; but he recognized with an +untold joy the different motives that now spurred +and animated her. In the end light began to break +from darkness. Hollister still kept steady the extraordinary +nerve which had before enabled him to +set aflame and continue such astonishing pyrotechnics +of speculation. It slowly and surely became evident +to him that he would soon have steered clear of all +disastrous reefs, and bring forth from the final dying +rage of the big tempest a ship not so wholly shattered +that careful repairs and cautious sailing hereafter +might not keep it very seaworthy for many +years.</p> + +<p>Claire had meanwhile exulted in her economies, and +conducted them with that same easy tact and skill +which had marked her past supervision of a large and +splendid establishment. She still preserved a certain +residuum of friends. There was no ascetic renunciation +of all worldly pleasures, either on her own or Hollister's +part. It amused her to observe just whom she +retained as her intimates and allies. The survival of +the fittest, in this respect, was something to note and +value. It showed her that the gay throng in which +she had shone was not all made of worthlessly flippant +members. But those, both men and women, whom +she now liked to have about her had each stood some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span> +pleasant test, had each presented to her some solid or +sterling trait of mind or character, which gave them +a passport into the gentler, healthier, and wiser conditions +of her new life.</p> + +<p>Beverley Thurston paid only rare visits to her home. +She understood why he did not come oftener; she +never pressed him to come. She had thanked him +for his great service, with moist eyes and breaking +voice. But she had not told him of the sweet ascendancy +that her husband had gained. She had tried +to let him see this change. Such revelation had been +less difficult than spoken words; for all words on a +subject that had now become so holy appeared to her +impious.</p> + +<p>During many days after imparting to her husband +the knowledge that he must henceforward receive +her mother into his household, she had dreaded the +clash of their widely opposite natures, and foreseen +trouble that would only lend weight and severity to +that which fate had already inflicted. But by degrees +she found herself laughing with Herbert at the +shadows of her own fears. He treated Mrs. Twining +as a kind of grim joke. With her invigorated health, +she was prepared to hold him strictly accountable for +his altered circumstances. Her sarcasms were more +pitiless than Claire had ever remembered them. She +took the attitude of a person who has been shut out +from a banquet until the viands are all demolished, +and then admitted to feed upon the unsatisfactory +débris. She had no intention whatever of forgiving +Hollister his misfortunes. In all her career of repulsive +deportment she had never achieved a more +obnoxious triumph. And yet, by the sheer force of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> +good-humored, gallant, conciliatory kindness, Hollister +at length succeeded in conquering her. She found +it simply impossible to annoy him. He insisted upon +not taking her seriously. His amiability was so impenetrable +that she finally receded before it, and began +to profess toward him a sort of gloomy, reluctant +liking.</p> + +<p>"I see," Claire said to him one day. "She is my +punishment. But why should you share it?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," he answered. "I think she is immense +fun." It seemed to Claire that he was quite +in earnest as he thus spoke.</p> + +<p>"She really does like you," Claire said. "In all +my life, Herbert, I have never known her to like—actually +<i>like</i>—any one till now."</p> + +<p>"That makes it all the funnier," he returned, with +a slight, blithe laugh. She knew he was in earnest, +then, and felt a deep sense of comfort.</p> + +<p>Once Claire had spoken to him of Goldwin.... It +already seemed far back in the past, now, although it +was scarcely a year ago. Her words had been very +few; her cheeks had burned while she uttered them.</p> + +<p>"Herbert," she had said, "I feel that I must ask +you whether you have—have met"—And here +she paused. Then, while he saw the pain and shame +on her face, she went stammeringly on: "Oh, you +know whom I mean—I don't want even to speak his +name again—but it is best that I knew on ... on +what terms you are, and all that."</p> + +<p>He grew pale while he looked at her. His voice +was very grave, but perfectly kind.</p> + +<p>"I see him nearly every day, Claire. That is inevitable, +you know. I have spoken to him only once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span> +since—that time. I didn't quite know whether I +was strong enough to keep my temper. But I did +keep it. I told him that I had learned everything. +And then I told him, very quietly, that if he ever +dared to address me again I would find an excuse +for cowhiding him."</p> + +<p>Claire sprang up from her seat. "Oh, Herbert! +did you say that? And did he ... stand it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he stood it. I didn't think he would, for a +moment or two. It was imprudent of me, perhaps—on +your account, I mean. But he walked away, without +a word.... And now, Claire, promise me that +you will never, as long as we both live, refer to this +matter again."</p> + +<p>She threw her arms about his neck. "Never!" +she cried. "I didn't want to speak of it, as it was. +I promise you, with all my heart!"</p> + +<p>They had been married several years when a child, +a boy, was born to them. Claire made the most adoring +of mothers. Mrs. Diggs, who was forever dropping +in upon her friend, with even more than her former +intimacy, said, once, while she watched the baby +laugh on its mother's lap, after the bath that Claire +had lovingly given it with her own hands:—</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, it does seem so odd, don't you +know? I can't just quite realize it, even yet, Claire, +dear."</p> + +<p>"Realize what?" said Claire, looking up from the +rosy little treasure on her lap with a smile and two +touches of color, for which the joy of her own motherhood +was solely responsible.</p> + +<p>"Why, that you are the same being I used to +know. It's a perfectly lovely change. You remem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span>ber +how I used to dote on you then. But I dote on +you even more, now. Still, where <i>have</i> all your +grand ambitions flown to?"</p> + +<p>Claire looked serious, for a moment. Then she +gave a light, sweet laugh. "Oh, I'm a very ambitious +woman yet," she said.</p> + +<p class="p4 center"> +THE END.</p> + + + +<hr class="c65" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/448.png" width="500" height="148" alt="header" title="" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span> +</div> + +<h3 class="old">Works of Fiction</h3> + +<p class="center">PUBLISHED BY</p> + +<p class="center">HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY,</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">4 Park Street, Boston, Mass.</span> +</p> +<hr class="c20" /> + +<p class="ti2">Thomas Bailey Aldrich.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Aldrich"> +<tr><td class="left">Story of a Bad Boy. 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With Introductions +to many of the volumes by Susan Fenimore +Cooper, and Illustrations. In thirty-two volumes, +16mo.</p></blockquote> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cooper"> +<tr><td class="left">Precaution.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Spy.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pioneers.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pilot.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Lionel Lincoln.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Last of the Mohicans.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Red Rover.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Homeward Bound.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Home as Found.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pathfinder.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Mercedes of Castile.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Deerslayer.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Two Admirals.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Wing and Wing.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Wyandotté.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Afloat and Ashore.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Prairie.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Wept of Wish-ton-Wish.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Water Witch.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Bravo.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Heidenmauer.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Headsman.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Monikins.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Miles Wallingford.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Red Skins.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Chainbearer.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Satanstoe.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Crater.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Jack Tier.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Sea Lions.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Oak Openings.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Ways of the Hour.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center"><i>Each volume sold separately.</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cooper2"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">32.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">80.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote><p><i>Globe Edition.</i> With thirty-two original Illustrations, +by Darley, Dielman, Fredericks, Sheppard, and +Waud. In sixteen volumes, 12mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cooper3"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">20.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">43.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>Sold only in sets.</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><p>Sea Tales. <i>Household Edition.</i> Illustrated. In ten +volumes, 16mo.</p></blockquote> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cooper4"> +<tr><td class="left">The Pilot.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Red Rover.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Jack Tier.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Two Admirals.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Wing and Wing.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Sea Lions.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Water Witch.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Afloat and Ashore.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Miles Wallingford.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Crater.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">10.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">25.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote><p>Leather-Stocking Tales. <i>Household Edition.</i> Illustrated. +In five volumes, 16mo.</p></blockquote> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cooper5"> +<tr><td class="left">The Deerslayer.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pathfinder.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Last of the Mohicans.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pioneers.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Prairie.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">5.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">12.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote><p>Cooper Stories; being Narratives of Adventure selected +from his Works. With Illustrations by F. O. +C. Darley. In three volumes, 16mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cooper6"> +<tr><td class="left">Stories of the Prairie.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Stories of the Sea.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Stories of the Woods.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">F. Marion Crawford.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Crawford"> +<tr><td class="left">To Leeward. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Maria S. Cummins.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cummins"> +<tr><td class="left">The Lamplighter. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">El Fureidîs. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Mabel Vaughan. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Daniel De Foe.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="De Foe"> +<tr><td class="left">Robinson Crusoe. Illustrations by Thomas +Nast and E. Bayard. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">P. Deming.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Deming"> +<tr><td class="left">Adirondack Stories. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">0.75</td></tr> +</table> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Thomas DeQuincey.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="DeQuincey"> +<tr><td class="left">Romances and Extravaganzas. <i>Riverside Edition.</i> 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Narrative and Miscellaneous Papers. <i>Riverside Edition.</i> 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Charles Dickens.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Complete Works. <i>Illustrated Library Edition.</i> With +Introductions, biographical and historical, by E. P. +Whipple. Containing all the Illustrations that have +appeared in the <i>English Edition</i> by Cruikshank, Phiz, +Seymour, John Leech, Maclise, Marcus Stone, and +others, engraved on steel, to which are added the designs +of F. O. C. Darley and John Gilbert, in all numbering +over 550. Handsomely bound, and complete +in twenty-nine volumes, 12mo.</p></blockquote> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Dickens"> +<tr><td class="left">The Pickwick Papers, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Nicholas Nickleby, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Oliver Twist.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Old Curiosity Shop, and Reprinted Pieces, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Barnaby Rudge, and Hard Times, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Martin Chuzzlewit, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Our Mutual Friend, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Uncommercial Traveller.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Child's History of England, and Other Pieces.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Christmas Books.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Dombey and Son, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Pictures from Italy, and American Notes.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Bleak House, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Little Dorrit, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">David Copperfield, 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Tale of Two Cities.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Great Expectations.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Edwin Drood, Master Humphrey's Clock, and Other Pieces.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Sketches by Boz.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set. With Dickens Dictionary. 30 vols.</span></td><td class="right">45.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">100.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote><p><i>Globe Edition.</i> Printed in large type (long primer) on +good paper, and containing all the Illustrations of +Darley and Gilbert (55 in number) on steel, and the +Index of Characters. In fifteen volumes, 12mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Dickens2"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">18.75</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf, or half morocco</span></td><td class="right">40.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Christmas Carol. Illustrated. 8vo</td><td class="right">3.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Morocco</span></td><td class="right">7.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Same. 32mo</span></td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Christmas Books. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Morocco</span></td><td class="right">5.00</td></tr> +</table> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Edgar Fawcett.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Fawcett"> +<tr><td class="left">A Hopeless Case. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Gentleman of Leisure. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">An Ambitious Woman. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Fénelon.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Fénelon"> +<tr><td class="left">Adventures of Telemachus. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Baron de la Motte Fouqué.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Motte Fouqué"> +<tr><td class="left">Undine, Sintram and his Companions, with St. Pierre's "Paul and Virginia," 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Undine and other Tales. Illustrated. "Riverside Classics." 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Goethe"> +<tr><td class="left">Wilhelm Meister. Translated by Thomas Carlyle. Portrait of Goethe. In two volumes. 12mo</td><td class="right">3.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Tale and Favorite Poems. 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Oliver Goldsmith.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Goldsmith"> +<tr><td class="left">Vicar of Wakefield. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. "Riverside Classics." Illustrated. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Jeanie T. Gould.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Gould"> +<tr><td class="left">Marjorie's Quest. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Thomas Chandler Haliburton.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Haliburton"> +<tr><td class="left">The Clockmaker; or, The Sayings and Doings of Samuel Slick of Slickville. "Riverside Classics." Illustrated by Darley. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">A. S. Hardy.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Hardy"> +<tr><td class="left">But Yet a Woman. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Bret Harte.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Harte"> +<tr><td class="left">The Luck of Roaring Camp, and Other Sketches. <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads '6mo'">16mo</ins></td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Condensed Novels. Illustrated. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Mrs. Skaggs's Husbands, and Other Sketches. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Tales of the Argonauts, and Other Stories. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Thankful Blossom. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Two Men of Sandy Bar. A Play. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Story of a Mine. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Drift from Two Shores. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Twins of Table Mountain, and Other Sketches. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Flip; and, Found at Blazing Star. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">In the Carquinez Woods. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="center p2"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Harte"> +<tr><td class="left">Works. Rearranged, with an Introduction and a Portrait. In five volumes, crown 8vo.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Poetical Works, and the drama, "Two Men of Sandy Bar," with an Introduction and Portrait.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Luck of Roaring Camp, and Other Stories.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Tales of the Argonauts and Eastern Sketches.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Gabriel Conroy.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Stories and "Condensed Novels."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">10.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">20.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Julian Hawthorne.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Julian Hawthorne"> +<tr><td class="left">Idolatry. A Romance. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Nathaniel Hawthorne.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Works. <i>New Riverside Edition.</i> With an original +etching in each volume, and a new Portrait. With +bibliographical notes by George P. Lathrop. Complete +in twelve volumes, crown 8vo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Nathaniel Hawthorne"> +<tr><td class="left">Twice-Told Tales.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Mosses from an Old Manse.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The House of the Seven Gables, and the Snow-Image.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Wonder-Book, Tanglewood Tales, and Grandfather's Chair.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Scarlet Letter, and The Blithedale Romance.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Marble Faun.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Our Old Home, and English Note-Books. 2 vols.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">American Note-Books.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">French and Italian Note-Books.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Dolliver Romance, Fanshawe, Septimius Felton, and, in an Appendix, the Ancestral Footstep.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Tales, Sketches, and Other Papers. With Biographical Sketch by G. P. Lathrop, and Indexes.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">24.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">48.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half crushed levant</span></td><td class="right">60.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote><p><i>"Little Classic" Edition.</i> Each volume contains a +new Vignette Illustration. In twenty-five volumes, +18mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Nathaniel Hawthorne2"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">25.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf, or half morocco</span></td><td class="right">62.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tree calf</span></td><td class="right">81.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Volumes of the Original 16mo Edition still in stock:—</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Twice-Told Tales. Steel portrait. 2 vols.</td><td class="right">3.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Snow-Image</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">English Note-Books. 2 vols.</td><td class="right">3.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Septimius Felton</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<blockquote><p><i>Fireside Edition.</i> With 23 Vignette Illustrations. +Complete in thirteen volumes, including the Index +volume. 16mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Nathaniel Hawthorne3"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">21.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">42.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half seal</span></td><td class="right">45.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tree calf</span></td><td class="right">53.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>Sold only in sets.</i>)</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Nathaniel Hawthorne4"> +<tr><td class="left">The Scarlet Letter. <i>Holiday Edition.</i> Illustrated by Mary Hallock Foote. Red-line border. 8vo</td><td class="right">4.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Morocco, or tree calf</span></td><td class="right">9.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Tales of the White Hills, and Legends of New England. 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Legends of Province House, and A Virtuoso's Collection. 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Oliver Wendell Holmes.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Wendell Holmes"> +<tr><td class="left">Elsie Venner. A Romance of Destiny. Crown 8vo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Guardian Angel. Crown 8vo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Story of Iris. 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Blanche Willis Howard.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Howard"> +<tr><td class="left">One Summer. A Novel. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Holiday Edition. Illustrated by Hoppin. Square 12mo</td><td class="right">2.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Augustus Hoppin.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Hoppin"> +<tr><td class="left">Recollections of Auton House. Illustrated. Small 4to</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Fashionable Sufferer. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">William Dean Howells.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Howells"> +<tr><td class="left">Their Wedding Journey. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. Illustrated. Paper covers. 16mo</td><td class="right">.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Chance Acquaintance. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. Illustrated. Paper covers. 16mo</td><td class="right">.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Foregone Conclusion. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Lady of the Aroostook. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Undiscovered Country. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A Day's Pleasure, etc. 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Thomas Hughes.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Hughes"> +<tr><td class="left">Tom Brown's School-Days at Rugby. <i>Illustrated Edition.</i> 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Tom Brown at Oxford. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Henry James, Jr.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="James"> +<tr><td class="left">A Passionate Pilgrim, and Other Tales. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Roderick Hudson. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The American. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Watch and Ward. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Europeans. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Confidence. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Portrait of a Lady. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Anna Jameson.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Jameson"> +<tr><td class="left">Studies and Stories. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Douglas Jerrold.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Jerrold"> +<tr><td class="left">Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures. Illustrated. "Riverside Classics." 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Sarah Orne Jewett.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Jewett"> +<tr><td class="left">Deephaven. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Old Friends and New. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Old Friends and New. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Country By-Ways. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Mate of the Daylight. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Rossiter Johnson.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Little Classics." Each in one volume. 18mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Johnson"> +<tr><td class="right">I.</td><td class="left">Exile.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">II.</td><td class="left">Intellect.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">III.</td><td class="left">Tragedy.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">IV.</td><td class="left">Life.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">V.</td><td class="left">Laughter.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">VI.</td><td class="left">Love.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">VII.</td><td class="left">Romance.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">VIII.</td><td class="left">Mystery.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">IX.</td><td class="left">Comedy.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">X.</td><td class="left">Childhood.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XI.</td><td class="left">Heroism.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XII.</td><td class="left">Fortune.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XIII.</td><td class="left">Narrative Poems.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XIV.</td><td class="left">Lyrical Poems.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XV.</td><td class="left">Minor Poems.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XVI.</td><td class="left">Nature.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XVII.</td><td class="left">Humanity.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="right">XVIII.</td><td class="left">Authors.</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Johnson"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">18.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf, or half morocco</span></td><td class="right">45.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. In nine volumes, square 16mo,</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">13.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">27.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half morocco</span></td><td class="right">30.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tree calf</span></td><td class="right">40.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="center">(<i>Sold only in sets.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="ti2">Charles and Mary Lamb.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Lamb"> +<tr><td class="left">Tales from Shakespeare. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same. Illustrated. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">George Parsons Lathrop.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Lathrop"> +<tr><td class="left">An Echo of Passion. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Longfellow"> +<tr><td class="left">Hyperion. A Romance. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><i>Popular Edition.</i> 16mo</td><td class="right">.40</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><i>Popular Edition.</i> Paper covers, 16mo</td><td class="right">.15</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Outer-Mer. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><i>Popular Edition.</i> 16mo</td><td class="right">.40</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><i>Popular Edition.</i> Paper covers, 16mo</td><td class="right">.15</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Kavanagh. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Nora Perry.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Perry"> +<tr><td class="left">The Tragedy of the Unexpected, and Other Stories. "Little Classic" style. 18mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Elizabeth Stuart Phelps.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Phelps"> +<tr><td class="left">The Gates Ajar. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Men, Women, and Ghosts. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Hedged In. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Silent Partner. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Story of Avis. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Sealed Orders, and Other Stories. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Friends: A Duet. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Doctor Zay. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Beyond the Gates. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Joseph Xavier Boniface Saintine.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Saintine"> +<tr><td class="left">Picciola. "Riverside Classics." Illustrated. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Jacques Henri Bernardin de Saint-Pierre.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Saint-Pierre"> +<tr><td class="left">Paul and Virginia. "Riverside Classics." Illustrated. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Same, together with Undine, and Sintram. 32mo</td><td class="right">.75</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Sir Walter Scott.</p> + +<blockquote><p>The Waverley Novels. <i>Illustrated Library Edition.</i> +This edition has been carefully edited, and is illustrated +with 100 engravings by Darley, Dielman, +Fredericks, Low, Share, Sheppard, and Other artists. +The introduction which appeared in the +<i>Abbotsford Edition</i>, and the illustrated notes inserted +in subsequent editions, have been reproduced here, +furnishing all needed explanation of the novels and +the history of their production. There are also a +glossary and a very full index of characters. In 25 +volumes, 12mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Scott"> +<tr><td class="left">Waverley.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Guy Mannering.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Antiquary.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Rob Roy.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Old Mortality.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Black Dwarf, and Legend of Montrose.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Heart of Mid-Lothian.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Bride of Lammermoor.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Ivanhoe.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Monastery.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Abbot.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Kenilworth.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pirate.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Fortunes of Nigel.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Peveril of the Peak.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Quentin Durward.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">St. Ronan's Well.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Redgauntlet.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Betrothed, and the Highland Widow.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Talisman, and Other Tales.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Woodstock.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Fair Maid of Perth.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Anne of Geierstein.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Count Robert of Paris.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Surgeon's Daughter, and Castle Dangerous.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Each volume</span></td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">25.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">62.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half seal</span></td><td class="right">75.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote><p><i>Globe Edition.</i> Complete in 13 volumes. With 100 +Illustrations. 16mo.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Scott"> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The set</span></td><td class="right">16.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf, or half morocco</span></td><td class="right">35.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>Sold only in sets.</i>)</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Scott"> +<tr><td class="left">Tales of a Grandfather. <i>Illustrated Library Edition.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With six steel plates. In three volumes, 12mo</span></td><td class="right">4.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">9.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Ivanhoe. Fancy binding. 8vo</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">2.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="ti2">Horace E. Scudder.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Scudder"> +<tr><td class="left">The Dwellers in Five-Sisters' Court. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Stories and Romances. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Mark Sibley Severance.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Severance"> +<tr><td class="left">Hammersmith: His Harvard Days. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">T. D. Sherwood.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Sherwood"> +<tr><td class="left">Comic History of the United States. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">J. E. Smith.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Smith"> +<tr><td class="left">Oakridge: An Old-Time Story of Maine. 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Mary A. Sprague.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Sprague"> +<tr><td class="left">An Earnest Trifler. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Harriet Beecher Stowe.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Stowe"> +<tr><td class="left">Agnes of Sorrento. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Pearl of Orr's Island. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Uncle Tom's Cabin. <i>Popular Illustrated Edition.</i> 12mo</td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Minister's Wooing. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Mayflower, and Other Sketches. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Nina Gordon (formerly called "Dred"). 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Oldtown Folks. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Sam Lawson's Fireside Stories. Illustrated. <i>New Edition</i>, enlarged</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The above eight volumes in box</span></td><td class="right">12.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Uncle Tom's Cabin. <i>Holiday Edition.</i> With red line border. Introduction, and a Bibliography by George Bullen, of the British Museum. Over 100 Illustrations. 12mo</td><td class="right">3.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half calf</span></td><td class="right">6.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Morocco, or tree calf</span></td><td class="right">8.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><i>Illustrated Subscription Edition.</i> With 106 Illustrations. 8vo.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>Sold only by Subscription.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="ti2">Gen. Lew Wallace.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Wallace"> +<tr><td class="left">The Fair God; or, The Last of the 'Tzins. A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Henry Watterson.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Watterson"> +<tr><td class="left">Oddities in Southern Life and Character. Illustrated. 16mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p class="ti2">Adeline D. T. Whitney.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Whitney"> +<tr><td class="left">Faith Gartney's Girlhood. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Hitherto: A Story of Yesterdays. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Patience Strong's Outings. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Gayworthys. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Leslie Goldthwaite. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">We Girls: A Home Story. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Real Folks. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">The Other Girls. Illustrated. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Sights and Insights. 2 vols. 12mo</td><td class="right">3.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Odd, or Even? 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">Boys at Chequasset. 12mo</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The above twelve volumes in box</span></td><td class="right">18.00</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<blockquote> +<p class="p2">*.* <i>For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on receipt of price (in +check on Boston or New York, money-order, or registered letter) by the +Publishers,</i></p></blockquote> + +<p class="center">HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY,<br /> +<span class="smcap">4 Park St., Boston, Mass.;<br /> +11 East Seventeenth St., New York.</span></p> + +<p><i>A Catalogue containing portraits of many of the above authors, +with a description of their works, will be sent free, on application, +to any address.</i></p> + + +<hr class="c65" /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> + +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Ellipses left as per original.</p> +<p>The upside-down asterisms are denoted by *.*</p> +<p>The table of contents has been created just for the html version.</p> +<p>The numbers in the catalog at the end have been changed into Roman numerals.</p> +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> + +<p><b>Multiple spellings not changed:</b></p> + +<ul> +<li>ain't, aint</li> +<li>'Tain't, 'T ain't</li> +<li>cobble-stones, cobblestones</li> +<li>melo-dramatic, melodramatic</li> +<li>p'raps, p'r'aps</li> +<li>schoolfellows, school-fellows</li> +<li>undercurrent, under-current</li> +<li>woodwork, wood-work</li> +<li>staunch, stanch</li> +<li>subtle, subtile</li> +<li>loyal, leal</li> +</ul> + +<p><b>Also kept as it appears in the original:</b></p> + +<p>Pg. 125 "what her dead had been"</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Ambitious Woman, by Edgar Fawcett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN AMBITIOUS WOMAN *** + +***** This file should be named 38075-h.htm or 38075-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/7/38075/ + +Produced by Fulvia Hughes, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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