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diff --git a/38311-h/38311-h.htm b/38311-h/38311-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c086e64 --- /dev/null +++ b/38311-h/38311-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,22939 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<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 What Will People Say, by Rupert Hughes. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h2 { + font-size: 140%; + font-weight: normal; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.p2 { + margin-top: 4em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.p3 { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: 4em; +} + +p.cap:first-letter { float: left; clear: left; + margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; + padding:0; + line-height: 1em; font-size: 250%; } + + +.ind { + margin-left: 15em; +} + +.attr { + text-indent: 20em; +} + +.notes { + background-color: #eeeeee; + color: #000; + padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 2em; + padding-left: 2em; padding-right: 1em; + margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; +} + + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 0%; +} + +.tdl { + text-align: left; + +} + +.tdr { + text-align: right; +} + + +.tdlp { + text-align: left; + padding-left: 4em; + padding-right: 4em; + +} + + +.tdc { + text-align: center; +} + + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 75%; text-indent: 0em; + background-color: inherit; font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; + text-decoration: none; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + +.smaller { + font-size: 60%; +} + +.small { + font-size: 75%; +} + +.big { + font-size: 140%; +} + +.bigger { + font-size: 160%; +} + + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px; + margin-left: 18%; + margin-right: 18%; +} + + + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px; + margin-left: 18%; + margin-right: 18%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + +.hang { + text-indent: -2em; + margin-left: 2em; +} + +/* Images */ + +.caption { + text-align: center; + margin-left: 25%; + margin-right: 25%; + font-size: 80%; + margin-top: .25em; +} + +.atext { + font-size: 60%; + font-weight: normal; + margin-left: 35em; + text-align: left; + margin-top: .25em; +} + +.figcenter { + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-top: 2em; + text-align: center; +} + + + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of What Will People Say?, by Rupert Hughes + +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: What Will People Say? + A novel + +Author: Rupert Hughes + +Release Date: December 15, 2011 [EBook #38311] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT WILL PEOPLE SAY? *** + + + + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Shannon Barker, Cathy Maxam, 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="notes"> +<p>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</p> +<p>The original print version of this book does not contain a table of contents. +However, for the reader's ease of navigation through this html version, +a <a href="#Table_of_Contents">Table of Contents</a> +has been inserted at the end.</p> +</div> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/icover.jpg" alt="cover" /> + + +</div> + + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="ifpc" name="ifpc"></a> +<img src="images/ifpc.jpg" alt="" /> + +<p class="atext">See page 405</p> +<p class="caption">THEY WERE AS OBLIVIOUS OF THEIR PERIL AS TRISTAN AND ISOLDE</p> + +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<h1>WHAT WILL<br /> +PEOPLE SAY?</h1> + +<p class="center bb bt"> +<span class="bigger"> ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?</span></p> + +<p class="center">A NOVEL</p> +<p class="center small">BY</p> +<p class="center big">RUPERT HUGHES</p> + +<p class="center smaller p3">ILLUSTRATED</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" alt="logo" /> + + +</div> + + + +<p class="center p2">HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br /> +NEW YORK AND LONDON<br /> +<span class="small">MCMXIV</span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center smaller">COPYRIGHT, 1914. BY HARPER & BROTHERS<br /> + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br /> +PUBLISHED APRIL, 1914 +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<table summary="illustrations" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="20"> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ifpc">They were As Oblivious of Their Peril + as Tristan and Isolde</a></span> </td> +<td class="tdr"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i018">And Now Design Emerged, a Woman Stood + Revealed</a></span> </td> +<td class="tdr"><i>Facing p. 18</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i252">"There's That Other Me Down in the Pool, + Watching This Me"</a></span> </td> +<td class="tdr"><i>" 252</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl hang"><span class="smcap"><a href="#i480">Her Obstinate Pluck Bewildered Him</a></span> </td> +<td class="tdr"><i>" 480</i></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>WHAT WILL PEOPLE SAY?</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FIFTH AVENUE at flood-tide was a boiling surf of +automobiles. But at nearly every corner a policeman +succeeded where King Canute had failed, and checked +the sea or let it pass with a nod or a jerk of thumb.</p> + +<p>The young army officer just home-come from the +Philippines felt that he was in a sense a policeman himself, +for he had spent his last few years keeping savage +tribes in outward peace. When he was away or asleep +the Moros rioted at will. And so the traffic-officer of this +other extreme of civilization kept these motor-Moros in +orderly array only so long as he kept them in sight.</p> + +<p>One glare from under his vizor brought the millionaire's +limousine to a sharp stop, or sent it shivering back +into position. But once the vista ahead was free of uniforms +all the clutches leaped to the high; life and limb +were gaily jeopardized, and the most appalling risks run +with ecstasy.</p> + +<p>The law of New York streets and roads forbids a car +to commit at any time a higher speed than thirty miles an +hour; and never a man that owns one but would blush +to confess it incapable of breaking that law.</p> + +<p>As Lieutenant Forbes watched the surge of automobiles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +from the superior height of a motor-bus it amused him to +see how little people lose of the childhood spirit of truancy +and adventure. All this grown-up, sophisticated world +seemed to be run like a school, with joyous deviltry whenever +and wherever the teacher's back was turned, but woe +to whoso was caught; every one winking at guilt till authority +detected it, then every one solemnly approving the +punishment.</p> + +<p>Mr. Forbes had not seen Fifth Avenue since the pathetic +old horse-coaches were changed to the terrific motor-stages. +He had not seen the Avenue since it was widened—by +the simple process of slicing off the sidewalks and +repairing their losses at the expense of the houses. The +residences on both sides of the once so stately corridor +looked to him as if a giant had drawn a huge carving-knife +along the walls, lopping away all the porticos, columns, +stoops, and normal approaches, and leaving the inhabitants +to improvise such exits as they might.</p> + +<p>The splendid façade of the Enslee home had suffered +pitifully. He remembered how the stairway had once +come down from the vestibule to the street with the +sweeping gesture of a hand of welcome. Now the door +was knee-deep in the basement, and the scar of the +sealed-up portal was not healed above.</p> + +<p>The barbarity of the assault along the line had not +apparently relieved the choke of traffic. Or else the +traffic had swollen more fiercely still, as it usually does in +New York at every attempt in palliation.</p> + +<p>As far as Forbes could see north and south the roadway +was glutted from curb to curb with automobiles. And +their number astonished him even less than their luxury. +The designers had ceased to mimic hansoms, broughams, +and victorias following invisible horses ridiculously. +They had begun to create motors pure and simple, built +to contain and follow and glorify their own engines.</p> + +<p>Many of the cars were gorgeously upholstered, Aladdin's +divans of comfort and speed; and some of them were deco<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>rated +with vases of flowers. Their surfaces were lustrous +and many-colored, sleekly tremendous. They had not yet +entirely outgrown the imitation of the wooden frame, and +their sides looked frail and satiny, unfit for rough usage, +and sure to splinter at a shock. But he knew that they +were actually built of aluminum or steel, burnished and +enameled.</p> + +<p>What he did not know was that the people in them, +lolling relaxed, and apparently as soft of fiber as of skin, +were not the weaklings they looked. They, too, like their +cars, only affected fatigue and ineptitude, for they also +were built of steel, and their splendid engines were capable +of velocities and distances that would leave a gnarled +peasant gasping.</p> + +<p>This was one of the many things he was to learn.</p> + +<p>From his swaying eery he seemed to be completely lost +in a current of idle wealth. The throng, except for the +chauffeurs, the policemen, and a few men whose trades +evidently fetched them to this lane of pleasure—the +throng was almost altogether women. And to Forbes' +eye, unused to city standards, almost all the women were +princesses.</p> + +<p>At first, as his glance fell on each radiant creature, his +heart would cry: "There is one I could love! I never +shall forget her beauty!" And before the vow of eternal +memory was finished it was forgotten for the next.</p> + +<p>By and by the show began to pall because it would not +end. As peers become commonplace at a royal court, since +there is nothing else there, so beauty canceled itself here +by its very multitude. For the next mile only the flamboyantly +gorgeous or the flamboyantly simple beauty +caught his overfed eye. And then even these were lost +in the blur of a kaleidoscope twirled too fast.</p> + +<p>There was one woman, however, that he could not forget, +because he could not find out what she was like. In +the slow and fitful progress up the Avenue it chanced that +his stage kept close in the wake of an open landaulet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +The stage never fell far behind, and never quite won +alongside.</p> + +<p>A young woman was alone in the tonneau. At least, +he judged that she was young, though his documents were +scant. Her head was completely hidden from his view +by a hat that was just exactly big enough to accomplish +that work of spite.</p> + +<p>It was a sort of inverted flower-pot of straw—one of +those astonishing millinery jokes that women make +triumphs of. It bore no ornament at all except a filmy +white bird-of-paradise feather stuck in the center of the +top and spraying out in a shape that somehow suggested +an interrogation-mark.</p> + +<p>Even a man could see that it was a beautiful plume +and probably expensive. It had a sort of success of impudence, +alone there, and it mocked Forbes by trailing +along ahead of him, an unanswerable query.</p> + +<p>He grew eager and more eager to see what flower-face +was hidden under that overturned straw flower-pot of a +hat.</p> + +<p>Now and then, as the stage pushed forward, he would +be near enough to make out the cunning architecture of +the mystery's left shoulder and the curious felicity of her +left arm. Seen thus detached, they fascinated him and +kindled his curiosity. By and by he was swept near +enough to glimpse one rounded knee crossed over the +other, and one straight shin creasing a tight skirt, and a +high-domed instep, and the peak of one slim shoe.</p> + +<p>And once, when the traffic was suddenly arrested, he +was close enough to be wildly tempted to bend down and +snatch off that irritating hat. He would have learned at +least the color of her hair, and probably she would have +lifted her startled face to view like a reverted rose. He +was a fearless soldier, but he was not so daring as all that. +Still, he heard her voice as she gossiped to a momentary +neighbor who raised his hat in a touring-car held up +abeam her own.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her voice did not especially please him; it was almost +shrill, and it had the metallic glitter of the New York +voice. Her words, too, were a trifle hard, and as unpoetic +as possible.</p> + +<p>"We had a rotten time," she said. "I was bored stiff. +You ought to have been there."</p> + +<p>And then she laughed a little at the malice implied. +The policeman's whistle blew and the cars lurched forward. +And the stage lumbered after them like a green +hippopotamus. Forbes began to feel a gnawing anxiety +to see what was under that paradise feather. He assumed +that beauty was there, though he had learned +from shocking experiences how dangerous it is to hope +a woman beautiful because the back of her head is of +good omen.</p> + +<p>It became a matter of desperate necessity to overtake +that will-o'-the-wisp chauffeur and observe his passenger. +Great expectations seemed to be justified by the fact that +nearly every policeman saluted her and smiled so pleasantly +and so pleasedly that the smile lingered after she +was far past.</p> + +<p>Forbes noted, too, that the people she bowed to in other +cars or on the sidewalk seemed to be important people, +and yet to be proud when her hat gave a little wren-like +nod in their directions.</p> + +<p>At Fifty-first Street, in front of the affable gray Cathedral, +there was a long and democratic delay while a contemptuous +teamster, perched atop a huge steel girder, +drove six haughty stallions across the Avenue; drove them +slowly, and puffed deliberate smoke in the face of the impatient +aristocracy.</p> + +<p>Here a dismounted mounted policeman paced up and +down, followed by a demure horse with kindly eyes. This +officer paused to pass the time of day with the mysterious +woman, and the horse put his nose into the car and accepted +a caress from her little gloved hand. Again Forbes +heard her voice:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You poor old dear, I wish I had a lump of sugar."</p> + +<p>It was to the horse that she spoke, but the officer answered:</p> + +<p>"The sight of you, ma'am, is enough for um."</p> + +<p>Evidently he came from where most policemen come +from. The lady laughed again. She was evidently not +afraid of a compliment. But the policeman was. He +blushed and stammered:</p> + +<p>"I beg your pairdon, Miss—"</p> + +<p>He gulped the name and motioned the traffic forward. +Forbes was congratulating himself that at least she was +not "Mrs." Somebody, and his interest redoubled just +as the young woman leaned forward to speak to her +chauffeur. She had plainly seen that there was a policeless +space ahead of her, for the driver put on such speed +that he soon left Forbes and his stage far in the rear.</p> + +<p>Forbes, seeing his prey escaping, made a mental note +of the number of her car, "48150, N. Y. 1913."</p> + +<p>He had read how the police traced fugitive motorists +by their numerals, and he vowed to use the records for +his own purposes. He must know who she was and how +she looked. Meanwhile he must not forget that number—48150, +N. Y. 1913—the mystic symbol on her chariot of +translation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p class="cap">HELPLESS to pursue her with more than his gaze, +Forbes watched from his lofty perch how swiftly she +fled northward. He could follow her car as it thridded +the unpoliced traffic by that dwindling bird-of-paradise +plume, that sphinxic riddle of a feathery question-mark.</p> + +<p>He mused indulgently upon her as she vanished: "She +breaks the law like all the rest when no one is there to +stop her. She wheedles the police with a smile, but behind +their backs she burns up the road."</p> + +<p>Evidently there were narrow escapes from disaster. +One or two pedestrians leaped like kangaroos to escape her +wheels. Once or twice collisions with other cars were +avoided by sharp swerves or abrupt stops.</p> + +<p>The plume went very respectably across the Plaza, +for policemen were there on fixed post; but, once beyond, +the feather diminished into nothingness with the uncanny +speed of a shooting-star.</p> + +<p>She was gone. And now he wondered whither she sped, +and why. To what tryst was she hastening at such +dreadful pace, with such rash desire? He felt almost a +jealousy, at least an envy, of the one who waited at the +rendezvous.</p> + +<p>And then he felt alarm for her. Already she might +have met disaster. Her car might have crashed into some +other—into a great steel-girder truck like that that crossed +the Avenue. She might even now be lying all crumpled +and shattered in a tangle of wreckage.</p> + +<p>That taunting white question-feather might be dabbled +with red. The face might be upturned to any man's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +view and every man's horror. He was almost afraid to +follow farther lest his curiosity be more than sated.</p> + +<p>His irresolution was solved for him. The stage was +turning out of Fifth Avenue, to cross over to Broadway +and Riverside Drive. Forbes was not done with this +lane. He rose to leave the bus. It lurched and threw +him from bench to bench. He negotiated with difficulty +the perilous descent, clutched the hand-rail in time to save +himself from pitching head first to the street, clambered +down the little stairway with ludicrous awkwardness, +stepped on solid asphalt with relief, and walked south.</p> + +<p>The press gradually thickened, and before long it was +dense and viscid, as if theater audiences were debouching +at every corner.</p> + +<p>The stream was still almost entirely woman: beautiful +woman at the side of beautiful woman, or treading on her +high heels; chains of womankind like strings of beaded +pearls, hordes of women, dressed in infinite variations of +the prevailing mode. They strode or dawdled, laughing, +smiling, bowing, whispering, or gazing into the windows +of the shops.</p> + +<p>The panorama of windows was nearly as beautiful as +the army of women. The great show-cases, dressed with +all expertness, were silently proffering wares that would +tempt an empress to extravagance.</p> + +<p>A few haberdashers displayed articles of strange gorgeousness +for men—shirt-patterns and scarves, bathrobes, +waistcoats that rivaled Joseph's; but mainly the +bazars appealed to women or to the men who buy things +for women.</p> + +<p>The windows seemed to say: "How can you carry your +beloved past my riches, or go home to her without some +of my delights?" "How fine she would look in my folds!" +"How well my diamonds would bedeck her hair or her +bosom! If you love her, get me for her!" "It is shameful +of you to pretend not to see me, or to confess to poverty! +Couldn't you borrow money somewhere to buy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +me? Couldn't you postpone the rent or some other debt +awhile? Perhaps I could be bought on credit."</p> + +<p>Show-windows and show-women were the whole cry. +The women seemed to be wearing the spoils of yesterday's +pillage, and yet to yearn for to-morrow's. Women +gowned like manikins from one window gazed like hungry +paupers at another window's manikins.</p> + +<p>The richness of their apparel, the frankness of their +allure were almost frightful. They seemed themselves +to be shop-windows offering their graces for purchase or +haughtily labeling themselves "sold." Young or antique, +they appeared to be setting themselves forth at +their best, their one business a traffic in admiration.</p> + +<p>"Look at me! Look at me!" they seemed to challenge, +one after another. "My face is old, but so is my family." +"My body is fat, but so is my husband's purse!" "I +am not expensively gowned, but do I not wear my clothes +well?" "I am young and beautiful and superbly garbed, +and I have a rich husband." "I am only a little school-girl, +but I am ready to be admired, and my father buys +me everything I want." "I am leading a life of sin, but +is not the result worth while?" "My husband is slaving +down-town to pay the bills for these togs, but are you not +glad that I did not wait till he could afford to dress me +like this?"</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Forbes had been so long away from a +metropolis, and had lived in such rough countries, that +he perhaps mistook the motives of the women of New +York, and their standards, underrated their virtues. Vice +may go unkempt and shabby, and a saint may take thought +of her appearance. Perhaps what he rated as boldness was +only the calm of innocence; what he read as a command +to admire may have been only a laudable ambition to make +the best of one's gifts.</p> + +<p>But to Forbes there was an overpowering fleshliness in +the display. It reminded him of the alleged festivals of +Babylon, where all the women piously offered themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +to every passer-by and rated their success with heaven +by their prosperity with strangers.</p> + +<p>It seemed to him that the women of other places than +New York must have dressed as beautifully, but in an +innocenter way. Here the women looked not so much +feminine as female. They appeared to be thinking +amorous thoughts. They deployed their bosoms with +meaning; their very backs conveyed messages. Their +clothes were not garments, but banners.</p> + +<p>He had dwelt for years among half-clad barbarians, +unashamed Igorrotes; but these women looked nakeder +than those. The more studiously they were robed, the +less they had on.</p> + +<p>A cynicism unusual to his warm and woman-worshiping +soul crept into Forbes' mind. He went along philosophizing:</p> + +<p>"All these women are paid for by men. For everything +that every one of these women wears some man has +paid. Fathers, husbands, guardians, keepers, dead or +alive, have earned the price of all this pomp.</p> + +<p>"The men who pay for these things are not here: they +are in their offices or shops or at their tasks somewhere, +building, producing; or in their graves resting from their +labors, while the spendthrift sex gads abroad squandering +and flaunting what it has wheedled.</p> + +<p>"What do the women give in return? They must pay +something. What do they pay?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p class="cap">HE brooded like a sneering Satan for a time upon the +meaning of the dress-parade, and then the glory of +it overpowered him again. He felt that it would be a +hideous world without its luxuries. It was well, he concluded, +that men should dig for gold, dive for pearls, +climb for aigrets, penetrate the snows for furs, breed +worms for silk, build looms, and establish shops—all in +order that the she half of the world should bedeck itself.</p> + +<p>The scarlet woman on the beast, the pink girl with the +box of chocolates, the white matron, the widow in the +most costly and becoming weeds—they were all more +important to the world than any other of man's institutions, +because they were pretty or beautiful or in some +way charming—as useless, yet as lovely as music or +flowers or poetry.</p> + +<p>He was soon so overcrowded with impressions that he +could not arrange them in order. He could only respond +to them. The individual traits of this woman or that, +swaggering afoot or reclining in her car, smote him. Every +one of them was a Lorelei singing to him from her fatal +cliff, and his heart turned from the next to the next like a +little rudderless boat.</p> + +<p>Each siren rescued him from the previous, but the incessant +impacts upon his senses rendered him to a glow +of wholesale enthusiasm. He rejoiced to be once more in +New York. He began to wish to know some of these +women.</p> + +<p>It was apparent that many of them were ready enough +to extend their hospitality. Numbers of them—beauti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>ful +ones, too, and lavishly adorned—had eyes like grappling-hooks. +Their glances were invitations so pressingly +urged that they inspired opposition. They expressed +contempt in advance for a refusal. But men easily find +strength to resist such invitations and such contempt.</p> + +<p>It was not in these tavern-like hearts that Forbes would +seek shelter. He wanted to find some attractive, some +decently difficult woman to make friends with, make love +to. He was heart-free, and impatient for companionship.</p> + +<p>When a man is a soldier, an officer, and young, well-made +and well-bred, it is improbable that he will remain +long without opportunity of adventure.</p> + +<p>The woman of the bird-of-paradise feather was buried +in Forbes' mind as deeply as if a balcony full of matinée +girls had collapsed upon her. Forbes fell in love at first +sight a hundred and fifty times on the Avenue. Had he +met any one of that cohort again under favoring auspices +he might have found in her arms the response he sought. +It might have brought him tragic unrest, or the sort of +home comfort that makes no history.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he did meet some of these potential sweethearts +later; but if he did, he could not remember them and he +did not heed them, for he was by then involved inextricably +with the one he had hunted for and lost.</p> + +<p>When he found her he did not remember her any more +than the others. She impressed him as a woman of extreme +fragility, yet she was to test his strength to its utmost, +his endurance, his courage, his readiness for hazard.</p> + +<p>He had won a name among brave men for caution in +approaching danger, for bravery in the midst of it, and +for agility in extricating himself from ambush and trap. +This most delicate lady was to teach him to be reckless, +foolhardy, maladroit. She would wear him out in the +pursuit of happiness and disgust him with his profession, +with himself and her. Under her tutelage he would run +through scenes of splendor and scale the heights of excitement. +He would know beauty and pleasure and intrigue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +and peril. He would know everything but repose, contentment, +and peace. He would love her and hate her, +abhor her and adore her, be her greatest friend and +enemy, and she his.</p> + +<p>At his first meeting with her he pursued her without +knowing who she was and without overtaking her. And +she, not knowing she was pursued, unconsciously teased +him by keeping just out of his reach and denying him the +glimpse of her face.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it would have been better for both if they had +never come nearer together than in that shadowy, that +foreshadowing game of hide-and-seek in the full sun among +the throngs.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was better that they should meet and endure +the furnace of emotions and superb experiences in gorgeous +scenes.</p> + +<p>But, whether for better or worse, they did meet, and +their souls engaged in that grapple of mutual help and +harm that we call love.</p> + +<p>The world heard much of them, as always, and inevitably +misunderstood and misjudged, ignoring what +justified them, not seeing that their most flippant moments +were their most important and that when they +seemed most to sin they were clutching at their noblest +crags of attainment.</p> + +<p>It is such fates as theirs that make the human soul +cry aloud for a God to give it understanding, to give it +another chance in a better world. The longing is so fierce +that it sometimes becomes belief. But while we wait for +that higher court it is the province of story-tellers to play +at being juster judges than the popular juries are.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Forbes was unsuspicious of the future, and +unaware of nearly everything except heart-fag and foot-weariness.</p> + +<p>When he returned to his hotel he was a tourist who has +done too much art-gallery. Fifth Avenue had been an +ambulant Louvre of young mistresses, not of old masters.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>He crept into a tub of water as hot as he could endure, +and simmered there, smoking the ache out of him, and +imagining himself as rich as Haroun al Raschid, instead of +a poor subaltern in a hard-worked little army, with only +his pay and a small sum that he had saved, mainly because +he had been detailed to regions where there was +almost nothing fit to buy.</p> + +<p>The price of his room at the hotel had staggered him, +but he charged it off to a well-earned holiday and pretended +that he was a millionaire. He rose from the +steaming pool and turned an icy shower on himself with +shuddering exhilaration. His blood leaped as at a bugle-call, +a reveille to life.</p> + +<p>He heard the city shouting up to his windows, and he +began to fling on his clothes. And then he realized that +he knew nobody among those roaring millions. He +cursed his luck and flung into his bathrobe. As he knotted +the rope he felt that he might as well be a cowled and +cloistered monk in a desert as his friendless self in this +wilderness of luxury.</p> + +<p>Happiness was bound to elude him as easily as that +woman of the white query-plume eluded him when he +in his ten-cent bus pursued her in her five-thousand-dollar +landaulet. All he had of her was the back of her hat and +the number of her car—N. Y. 41508. Or was it N. Y. +85140, or—what the devil was the number?</p> + +<p>He had not brought away even that!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">NOTHING can be lonelier than a room in even a best +hotel when one is lonesome and when one's window +looks out upon crowds. Forbes had pitched his tent at +the Knickerbocker, and his view was of Longacre Square.</p> + +<p>The Times Building stood aloft, a huddled giraffe of +a building. A fierce wind spiraled round it and played +havoc with dignity. It was an ill-mannered bumpkin +wind from out of town with a rural sense of humor. +Women pressed forward into the gale, bending double +and struggling with their tormented hats and writhing +skirts. Some of the men seemed to find them an attractive +spectacle till they felt their own hats caught up and +kited to the level of the fourth and fifth windows.</p> + +<p>A flock of newsboys, as brisk as sparrows, drove a +hustling trade in recovering hats for men who were +ashamed of bare heads as of a nakedness. The gamins +darted among the street-cars and automobiles, risking +their lives for dimes as sparrows for corn, and escaping +death as miraculously.</p> + +<p>At the western end of Forty-second Street stood a +space of sunset like a scarlet canvas on exhibition. Then +swift clouds erased it, and gusts of rain went across the +town in volleys of shrapnel, clearing the streets of a mob. +Everybody made for the nearest shelter.</p> + +<p>The onset ended as quickly as it began. The stars +were in the sky as suddenly as if some one had turned on +an electric switch. On the pavements, black with wet +and night, the reflected electric lights trickled. All the +pavements had a look of patent leather.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes sat in the dark room in an arm-chair and +muffled his bathrobe about him, watching the electric +signs working like solemn acrobats—the girl that skipped +the rope, the baby that laughed and cried, the woman that +danced on the wire, the skidless tire in the rain, the great +sibyl face that winked and advised chewing-gum as a +panacea, the kitten that tangled itself in thread, the +siphons that filled the glasses—all the automatic electric +voices shouting words of light.</p> + +<p>Forbes wanted to be among the crowds again. He +could not tolerate solitude. He resolved to go forth. It +inspired him with pride to put on his evening clothes. +While he dressed he sent his silk hat to be ironed by the +hotel valet. It came back an ebon crown.</p> + +<p>He set it on his head, tapped the top of it smartly, +swaggered to the elevator, bowed to the matronly floor +clerk as to a queen, went down to the main dining-room, +and tried to look at least a duke. He was glad to be in +full dress, for the other people were. The head waiter +greeted him with respect and handed him the bill of fare +with expectation.</p> + +<p>He ordered more than he had appetite for, and tried +not to blanch at the prices.</p> + +<p>The flowers, the shaded candles, the tapestries, the +china and the glass and silver, the impassioned violinist +leading the sonorous orchestra, all gave him that sense +of royalty from which money is most easily wooed. But +the cordiality of the thing was fascinating. The whole +city seemed to be attending a great reception. New York +was giving a party.</p> + +<p>And now, indeed, he was in New York again—in it, +yet not of it; a poor relation at the wedding feast. He +lingered at his solitary banquet like a boy sent away +from the table and forced to eat by himself. His extrusion +seemed to be a punishment for not being rich. But +while his funds held out to burn he would pretend.</p> + +<p>The room emptied rapidly as the hour for opera and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +theater arrived. But he lingered, not knowing where to +go. He pretended to be in no hurry. He had, indeed, +more leisure than he enjoyed. Still he sat smoking and +protracting his coffee, and haughtily playing that he was +not starving for companionship.</p> + +<p>When almost the last couple was gone he realized that +he faced an evening of dismal solitude. He realized also +that a number of kind-thoughted gentlemen had erected +large structures for the entertainment of lonely people +and had engaged numbers of gifted persons to enact +stories for their diversion.</p> + +<p>He called for his account, paid it with a large bill, and +ignored the residue with a ruinous lifting of the brows +as he accepted a light for his exotic cigar.</p> + +<p>He helped to put false ideas in the hat-boy's head with +the price he paid for the brief storage of his hat and coat +and stick. He sauntered to the news-stand with the +gracious stateliness of a czarevitch incognito, and asked +the Tyson agent:</p> + +<p>"What's a good play to see?"</p> + +<p>The man named over the reigning successes, and some +of their titles fell strangely pat with Forbes' humor:</p> + +<p>"Romance," "The Poor Little Rich Girl," "Oh, Oh, +Delphine!" "Peg o' My Heart," "The Lady of the Slipper," +"The Sunshine Girl."</p> + +<p>"They're mostly about girls," Forbes smiled.</p> + +<p>"They mostly always are," the agent grinned. "But +there's others: 'Within the Law,' 'The Argyle Case,' +'The Five Frankfurters,' 'Years of Discretion.'"</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'd better see 'Within the Law.' I've heard +a good deal about that."</p> + +<p>"I guess you have. It's been a sell-out for months."</p> + +<p>"Can't I get in?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not. How many are you?"</p> + +<p>"One."</p> + +<p>"One? Let me see. Here's a pair ordered by a party +that hasn't called for them. Could you use them both?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I could put my overcoat in one seat," Forbes groaned, +at this added irony in his loneliness and penuriousness.</p> + +<p>"I'd split the pair, but it's too late to sell the other +one."</p> + +<p>"I'll take both." Forbes sighed and waved a handsome +five-dollar bill farewell.</p> + +<p>The boy who twirled the squirrel-cage door told him +that the theater was just down the street, and received a +lavish fee for the information. Forbes was soon in the +lobby, but the first act was almost finished. Rather +than disturb the people already seated, he stood at the +back, leaning over the rail. He thrilled instantly to the +speech of the shop-girl sentenced to the penitentiary for +a theft she was not guilty of, and warning the proprietor +that she would amply revenge herself when she came back +down the river. At the height of the outcry of militant +innocence Forbes heard the susurrus of robes and turned +to see a small group of later comers than himself.</p> + +<p>At the head went something that he judged to be a +woman, though all he saw was a towering head-dress, a +heap of elaborately coiffed hair, a wreath of mist, an +indescribably exquisite opera-cloak shimmering down to +an under-cascade of satin.</p> + +<p>This tower of fabrics went along as if it were carried +on a pole, and Forbes could see no semblance of human +shape or stride inside it. But he judged that it contained +a personality, for it paused to listen to something +another pile of fabrics said to it, and from both came a +snicker—or was it only a frou-frou of garments? In any +case, it angered the part of the audience adjacent. The +group went down the side-aisle, up a few steps to the +little space behind the box.</p> + +<p>From where he stood Forbes could see the usher helping +them lay off their wraps. They showed no anxiety to +catch the remainder of the act, but stood gossiping while +the frantic usher waited, not daring to reprimand them, +yet dreading the noise of their incursion.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i018" name="i018"></a> +<img src="images/i018.jpg" alt="" /> +<p class="caption">AND NOW DESIGN EMERGED, A WOMAN STOOD REVEALED</p> + +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes watched one of the clothes-horses stripped of +its encumbrances.</p> + +<p>From somewhere in the chaos two long-gloved arms +came up; they were strangely shapely; they made motions +like swan's necks dipping into water-lilies. A garland +of fog came away, and a head on a throat appeared, +a bust set upon a heap of drapery. Then the opera-cloak +slipped off into the usher's hands. And now design +emerged, a woman stood revealed. The head and throat +were seen to be attached to a scroll of shoulders, and a +figure like a column rose from the floor—strangely columnar +it was, and so slender that there was merely the +slightest inslope of waist, merely the slightest entasis at +the hips.</p> + +<p>In other periods only portions of the human outline +have been followed by the costume. The natural lines +have been broken, perverted, and caricatured by balloon +sleeves, huge farthingales, or paniers like a jennet's pack-saddles, +the incredible Botocudo ideal of the bustle, corsets +like hour-glasses, concentric hoops about the legs, +with pantalets coquetting inanely at the ankles—the almost +impossible facts of fashion.</p> + +<p>Just then the costume was hardly more of a disguise +than the gold or bronze powder smeared on by those who +pose as statues at the vaudevilles. Inside their outer +wraps women were rather wall-papering themselves than +draping their forms. It was saner so, and decenter, too, +perhaps.</p> + +<p>And yet Forbes stared at this woman as Adam must +have stared at Eve when the scales were off his eyes. +Even her hair was almost all her own, and it was coiled +and parted with simple grace. Her head-dress was something +bizarre—not a tiara of diamonds, but a black crest +with a pearl or two studding it—the iridescent breast of +a lyre-bird it was, though he did not know. A cord of +pearls was flung around her throat. At the peak of each +shoulder her gown began, but the two elements did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +conjoin till just in time above the breast, and just a little +too late at the back.</p> + +<p>The fabric clung lovingly to the loins, thighs, and +calves, so closely that an inverted V must be cut between +the ankles to make walking possible at all. There was a +train of a fish-tail sort, a little twitching afterthought. +And so this woman-shape came forth from a shapelessness +as Aphrodite from the sea-foam.</p> + +<p>Forbes was so startled that he felt all the chagrin of +one who is caught staring at a woman just returned +from the surf in a wet bathing-suit. He shifted his eyes +from her. When he looked back she had vanished into +the crimson cavern of the box.</p> + +<p>The other women followed her, and the men them. +They seated themselves just as the curtain fell.</p> + +<p>And now Forbes felt at liberty to go to his own seat, +found an usher to pilot him down the aisle. He bowed +and murmured "Beg pardon" and "Thank you" to each +of those who shoved back awkwardly and wonderingly +to let him in. He felt like explaining to them that he +had not just arrived, and that he really was not so foolish +or so dilatory as he looked. He put his overcoat in his +extra seat and studied his program.</p> + +<p>A voice that should have reminded him of the landaulet, +but did not, caught his ear and led his eyes to the box. +He was not far from the late arrivals.</p> + +<p>They were attracting a deal of attention from the audience, +and paying it none. The loudness of their speech +and their laughter would have shocked him in a crowd +of farmers. Coming from people of evident wealth and +familiarity with town customs, it astounded him.</p> + +<p>He had not yet seen the face of the woman of whom he +had seen so much else. She was talking to a man in the +interior of the box. Her back was turned to the house.</p> + +<p>It never occurred to Forbes that it might be the same +back he had followed up the Avenue. How could he have +told?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>That back was clothed and cloaked, and even that famous +left arm was sleeved. These shoulder-sheaths, not +blades, were so astoundingly bare that he felt ashamed +to look at them. Their proprietress was evidently not +ashamed to submit them for public inspection. One +might not approve her boldness, but one could hardly fail +to approve her shoulders. When she moved or shrugged +or laughed or turned to speak, their exquisite integument +creased and rippled like shaken cream.</p> + +<p>At length the footlights went up, the curtain went up. +The three women aligned themselves in profile along the +rail as if they were seated on unseen horses. The men +were mere silhouettes in the background.</p> + +<p>The bulk of the audience was in darkness; but the people +in the boxes were illumined with a light reflected from +the scenery, and it warmed them like a dawn glowing +upon peaks of snow.</p> + +<p>And now, at last, Forbes saw the face he had watched +for with such impatience. It did not disappoint him. +At first she gave him only the profile; but that magic +light of stage-craft was upon it, and once she turned her +head and cast a slow, vague look along the shadowy valley +of the audience. She could not have seen him, but +he saw her and found her so beautiful, so bewitchingly +beautiful and desirable, that he caught his breath with a +stitch of pain, an ache of admiration.</p> + +<p>Just a moment her eyes dreamed across the gloom, and +she turned back to watch the stage. It was like a parting +after a tryst. Then she broke the spell with a sudden +throe of laughter. The little shoplifter and blackmailer +on the stage was describing her efforts to learn the ways +of society, the technique of pouring tea and pretending +to like it. She swore, and the audience roared. Formerly +an actor could always get a laugh by saying "damn." +Now it must be a woman that swears.</p> + +<p>Jarred back to reasonableness by the shock of laughter, +Forbes looked again to the box to see what manner of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +women this woman went with. One of them was tiny +but quite perfect. She had the face of a débutante under +the white hair of a matron. If her age were betrayed by +her neck, the dog-collar of pearls concealed the ravage. +She sat exceedingly erect and seemed to be cold and +haughty till another splurge of slang from the shoplifter +provoked her to a laugh that was like a child's.</p> + +<p>The other woman laughed, too, laughed large and wide. +She was beautiful, too, a Rubens ideal, drawn in liberal +rotundities—cheeks, chin, throat, bust, hips. No Cubist +could have painted her, for she was like a cluster of soap-bubbles. +Her face was a great baby's.</p> + +<p>The men were almost invisible, mere cut-outs in black +and white.</p> + +<p>None of them had the jaded look of boredom that Forbes +supposed to be the chief characteristic of New York +wealth. They were as eager and irrepressible as a box-load +of children fighting over a bag of peanuts at a circus.</p> + +<p>One of the men leaned forward and whispered something; +all the women turned to hear. They forgot the +play, though the situation was critical. They chattered +and laughed so audibly that the audience grew restive; +the people on the stage looked to be distressed.</p> + +<p>Forbes was astonished at such bad manners from such +beautiful people. He wondered how the play could go +on. He had heard of actors stepping out of the picture +to rebuke such disturbers of the peace. He expected +such an encounter now.</p> + +<p>Then somebody in the audience hissed. Somebody +called distinctly, "Shut up!" The group turned in surprise, +and received another hiss in the face. Silence and +shame quieted it instanter. The women blushed like +grown girls threatened with a spanking. Tremendous +blushes ran all down their crimson backs.</p> + +<p>Forbes could see that they wanted to run. A kind of +pluck held them. They pretended to toss their heads +with contempt, but the mob had cowed them so completely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +that Forbes felt sorry for them—especially for her. She +was too pretty for a public humiliation.</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell on the second act Forbes saw +one of the men in the box rise and leave along the side-aisle. +Forbes knew the man. His name was Ten Eyck—Murray +Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>Forbes dreaded to repeat that voyage through the +strait between knees and seat-backs; but he had seen at +last a man he knew. And the man he knew knew the +woman he wanted to know.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE women he passed glared hatpins at Forbes and +groaned as they rose and hunched back to let him by. +They clutched at the wraps he disarranged. He rumpled +one elaborate hat stuck in the back of a seat, and one silk +tie that had fallen out of the wire rack he kicked under +the row ahead. He had an impulse to go after it; but +when he realized the postures and scrambles it would +involve, it was too horrible an ordeal. He pretended not +to have noticed, and pressed onward.</p> + +<p>None was so indignant as the man who had similarly +climbed out for a drink the <i>entr'acte</i> before. Forbes knew +it was a drink he had gone out for the moment he passed +him. Forbes was not going out for a drink, but for important +information.</p> + +<p>He apologized meekly, yet continued on his course. +By the time he was in the open Ten Eyck had disappeared. +He was not in the lobby, nor among the men smoking on +the sidewalk or dashing across the street to one of the +cafés where coffee could not be obtained. Forbes found +his man at last in the smoking-room below-stairs.</p> + +<p>He was puffing a cigarette, and met Forbes' eager +glance with such blank indifference that Forbes' words +of greeting stopped in his throat.</p> + +<p>To explain his presence in the smoking-room Forbes +lighted a cigar, though he knew that he could have but a +few puffs of it. And it was such a good cigar! There +can only be so many good cigars in the world.</p> + +<p>The two men paced back and forth on crisscrossing +paths as violently oblivious of each other as the two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +traditional Englishmen who were cast away on the same +desert island and had never been introduced.</p> + +<p>It was not till Murray Ten Eyck flung down his cigarette +and made to leave that Forbes mustered courage +enough to speak, in his Virginian voice:</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, suh, but aren't you Mr. Mu'y Ten Eyck?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Ten Eyck—simply that, and nothing +more.</p> + +<p>Forbes, nonplussed at the abrupt brevity of the answer, +tried again:</p> + +<p>"I reckon you don't remember me."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck showed a hint of interest. If he were a +snob he blamed it on his own weaknesses.</p> + +<p>"I seem to, but—well, I'm simply putrid at names and +faces. A man pulled me out of the surf at Palm Beach +last winter—I had a cramp, you know. I cut him dead +two weeks later. When I knew what I had done I wished +he had let me drown. So don't mind me if I don't remember +you. Who are you? Did you ever save my life? +Where was it we met?"</p> + +<p>"It was in Manila. You were—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, God bless me! You're Harvey Forbes—well, +I'll be—" He reversed the prayer. "Of course it's you." +He was cordial enough now as he clapped both hands on +Forbes' shoulders. "But how the hell was I to know +you all dolled up like this? I used to see you in uniform +with cap and bronze buttons and sword and puttees. +You were a lieutenant then. I dare say you're a colonel +by now, what?" Forbes shook his head. "No? Well, +you ought to be. You did save my life out in that Godforsaken +hole. And now you're here! Well, I'll be—Let's +have a drink."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you!" He hurried Forbes up the stairs, +out into the street, and into a peacock-rivaling café. +With one foot on the rail, one elbow on the bar, and +one elbow crooked upward, they toasted each other in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +a hearty "How!" Then, with libations tossed inward, +the old friendship was consecrated anew.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," said Ten Eyck, "are you alone—or with +somebody? Don't answer if it will incriminate you."</p> + +<p>"No such luck," groaned Forbes. "I'm alone, a castaway +on this deserted island."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm the little rescuing party. How long you +here for?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I was ordered to Governor's Island. +I don't have to report for a week, so I thought I'd have +a look at New York."</p> + +<p>"That won't take you long. There's nothing going on, +and nobody in town."</p> + +<p>Forbes remembered the crowds he had seen, and +smiled. "I saw three ve'y charming ladies in that party +of yours."</p> + +<p>"Glad you like 'em. Come and meet 'em."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps one of them is your wife. Are you ma'ied +yet?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. Not while I have my health and strength."</p> + +<p>"I'm right glad to hear it. I was beginning to feel +afraid that you had ma'ied that wonderful one."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck shook his head and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Who? Me? Me marry Persis Cabot?"</p> + +<p>"Is that her name? Well, why not?"</p> + +<p>"If you only knew her you wouldn't ask why. I'm +not a millionaire."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't look mercenary."</p> + +<p>"She's not. Money is nothing to her; she doesn't +know what it means; she just tosses it away. She's like +a yacht. You think it costs a lot to buy, but wait till +you count the upkeep. Persis is a corker. She's a fine +girl to play with. But you must promise not to marry +her."</p> + +<p>"I promise."</p> + +<p>"Fine! Come along." As they climbed the stairs +Ten Eyck was saying: "I hate an obligation like poison.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +Always want to pay back a mean turn or a good one. +You made a devil of a hit with me, Forbesy, out in Manila +there, when I was blue and sick and a million miles from +home. I suppose there's nothing makes a hit with a man +like calling on him when he's sick. You got your hooks +on me that way, and I'm yours to boss around. I'll put +you up at a lot of clubs and trot you about till you flash +the S. O. S. That is, if you want that sort of thing. +Maybe you want to be let alone. If you do, you can kick +me out whenever I'm in the way."</p> + +<p>Forbes denied any inclination to solitude. When they +reached the head of the aisle to the box he paused. He +had the Southern idea of ceremonial courtesy, and he +suggested that Ten Eyck had better ask the permission +of the ladies before he introduced a stranger. Forbes had +the rare knack of using the word "lady" without an effect +of middle class.</p> + +<p>And he had never forgotten what Ten Eyck had said +to him once: "I love the extremes of society. I can get +along with the highest, and I dote on the lowest, but +God, how I loathe a middle-class soul."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck waived Forbes' scruples, dragged him to +the box, and presented him to the women and the two +other men. Forbes was too much perturbed to catch a +single name. Even the last name of Persis escaped both +his memory and his attention.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck gave Forbes a glowing advertisement as a +brilliant soldier and a life-saver, and offered him his own +chair next to Persis.</p> + +<p>She had answered his low bow of homage with nothing +more than a wren-like nod and half a hint of a smile.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck threw Forbes into confusion by saying:</p> + +<p>"You'll have to do better than that, old girl. Mr. +Forbes not only rescued me from the depths, but he +told me you were the most beautiful thing he ever saw +on earth."</p> + +<p>Persis smiled a little more cordially and murmured:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's very nice of him."</p> + +<p>She was evidently so used to bouquets in the face that +they neither offended nor excited her. But Miss—or was +it Mrs?—anyway, the plump woman interposed:</p> + +<p>"He must have been referring to me. My mirror tells +me I am fatally beautiful, and God knows there's more of +me than of anybody else on earth."</p> + +<p>Forbes was in a dilemma. He had not made the comment +ascribed to him, yet he could hardly deny it. Nor +could he deny the plump lady's claim to the praise. He +simply flushed and smiled benignly on everybody.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, the lights sank just then, and the curtain +went up with a sound like a great "Hush!" The party, +having been once rebuked, fell into silence. Forbes rose +to return to his own seat, but Ten Eyck, standing back +of him, pressed him into his chair with powerful hands.</p> + +<p>He stayed put. But the play no longer held him. He +could think only of one thing. He was posted at the +side of this creature who had fascinated him from afar +and terrified him anear, and whose last name he did not +yet know.</p> + +<p>The lesson of the previous act was not long remembered +by the irrepressibles. One of the men, a queer little fellow +he was, whispered a comment to Persis. She laughed and +answered it. The other women had to be told. They +giggled. Their voices gradually rose in pitch and volume.</p> + +<p>When the thief in the play shot the stool-pigeon with +a silencered revolver a man seated below the box was +overheard to say:</p> + +<p>"I wish somebody would invent a silencer for box-parties."</p> + +<p>Again there were almost audible stares of reproach from +the audience, and quietude settled down once more like +a pall. At the end of this act again Forbes rose to go, but +Ten Eyck checked him again.</p> + +<p>"What you doing after the play?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come turkey-trotting with us."</p> + +<p>"Turkey-trotting!" Forbes gasped. "Do nice people—"</p> + +<p>"We're not nice people," said Persis, "but we do."</p> + +<p>"It's all we do do," said the lady of the embonpoint, +whose first name by now he had gleaned as Winifred.</p> + +<p>Forbes was surprised to hear himself speaking as if +to old acquaintance. "When I was in San Francisco, +six years or so ago, slumming parties were taking it up +along the 'Barbary Coast.' And on my way East just +now I read an editorial about its rage in New York, but +I didn't believe it."</p> + +<p>"It's awful," said the little man. "People have gone +stark mad over it. The mayor ought to stop it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Willie, don't be a prude," said Persis. "You +know it's healthier than playing bridge all day and all +night."</p> + +<p>"And much less expensive," said the white-haired one.</p> + +<p>"It's sickening," Willie insisted. "It's unfit for a +decent woman."</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Persis, with a tone of zinc.</p> + +<p>The little man made haste with an apology. "I don't +mean you, my dear, of course; you dance it harmlessly +enough; but—well, I don't like to see you at it, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Your own mother is learning it," said Winifred.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" Willie gasped. "I gave her up long +ago."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck intervened. Forbes remembered now that +he was always intervening between extremists in the +club quarrels in Manila.</p> + +<p>"What difference does it make?" he said. "All dancing +is impure to some people. The waltz and polka used +to be considered bad enough to get you kicked out of the +churches. The turkey-trot is only vulgar when vulgar +people dance it, and they'd be vulgar anyway, anywhere. +The trot has set people to jigging again. That's one good,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +wholesome thing. For several years you couldn't get +people to dance at all. Now they're at it morning, noon, +and night."</p> + +<p>"The police ought to stop it, I tell you," Willie insisted, +with a peevishness that was like a dash of vinegar. "I +hate to see it."</p> + +<p>"Then don't come along, my dear," Persis answered, +with a glint of temper.</p> + +<p>Forbes did not like that "my dear." It might mean +nothing, but it might mean everything.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WHEN the final curtain came down like a guillotine +on the play there was a general uprising, a sort of +slow panic to escape from this finished place and move +on to the next event—by street-car to a welsh rabbit in +a kitchenette, or by motor to a restaurant of pretense.</p> + +<p>Everybody being in haste, everybody went slowly. +Forbes retrieved his hat and overcoat after a ferocious +struggle. In the lazy ooze-out of the crowd he was gradually +shunted to the side of Persis, and willing enough to +be there, proud to be there. He walked a little more +militarily than he usually did in civilian's.</p> + +<p>He heard people whispering with a shrillness that +Persis had evidently grown accustomed to, for she could +not have helped hearing, yet showed no sign. And now +Forbes recaptured her last name, and it was familiar to +him, little as he knew of social chronicles.</p> + +<p>"Look! That's Persis Cabot," said one. "There's the +Cabot girl you read so much about," said another. "She's +got a sister who's a Countess or Marquise, or something." +Then Forbes learned by roundabout the last name of +Willie, and learned it with alarm from two of the sharpest +whisperers:</p> + +<p>"That's Willie Enslee with her, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I guess so."</p> + +<p>"Don't see why they call that big fellow Little Willie."</p> + +<p>"Just a joke, I guess."</p> + +<p>"They say he's worth twenty million dollars."</p> + +<p>"He looks it."</p> + +<p>At any other time it would have amused Forbes im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>mensely +to be called so far out of his name and to receive +twenty million dollars by acclamation.</p> + +<p>But now he could only busy himself with deductions: +why did they assume that any man who was with Persis +Cabot was sure to be Willie Enslee? Could it mean—what +else could it mean?</p> + +<p>He glanced around to take another look at Willie Enslee. +Now that he knew him for what he was, the situation +was intolerable. Marry this dream of beauty to +that cartoon, that grotesque who came hardly to her +shoulder!</p> + +<p>His glance had showed him that the men and women +they had passed were looking up and down Persis' back +like appraising dry-goods merchants or plagiarizing dressmakers. +When he turned his head forward he saw that +the women in front were inspecting her with even more +brazen curiosity. It astounded Forbes to see such well-dressed +people behaving so peasantly. But Persis seemed +as oblivious of their study as if they were painted heads +on a fresco. Forbes, however, flushed when their eyes +turned to him, because he felt that they were saying, +"That must be Willie Enslee," and "Why do they call +that big thing Little Willie?"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Little Willie himself was handing the attendant +at the switchboard a punctured carriage check, +with which to flash the number on the sign outside.</p> + +<p>There was a long wait for their own car, while motor +after motor slid up and slid away as soon as its number +had been bawled and its cargo had detached itself from +the waiting huddle.</p> + +<p>After the close, warm theater Forbes flinched at the +edged night wind coming from the river. With the caution +of an athlete he turned up his collar and buttoned +his overcoat over his chest. But Persis stood with +throat and bosom naked to the wind, and to all those +staring eyes, and never thought to gather about her even +the flimsy aureole of chiffon that took the place of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +scarf. And equally unafraid and unashamed stood Winifred +and Mrs. Neff. (He had collected her name, too, +during the conversation that flourished throughout the +last act.)</p> + +<p>At length the footman, who had howled out other people's +numbers, held up a timid finger and murmured, awesomely, +"Mr. Enslee?"</p> + +<p>The limousine, whose door he opened, was by no means +the handsomest of the line. Enslee was evidently rich +enough to afford a shabby car. The three women bent +their heads and entered with difficulty, their tight skirts +sliding to their knees as they clambered in.</p> + +<p>There was a great ado over the problem of room. +Every man offered to walk or take a taxi. Ten Eyck +made sure that Forbes should not be omitted. Ignoring +his protests, he bundled him into one of the little extra +seats and crawled in after him. The huge third man +(still anonymous and taciturn) next inserted his bulk—a +large cork in a small bottle.</p> + +<p>Willie put his head in to ask:</p> + +<p>"Where d'you want to go, Persis?"</p> + +<p>"Trotting, of course," came from the crowded depths.</p> + +<p>"But I don't think—"</p> + +<p>"Then take me home and go to the devil."</p> + +<p>"We'll trot," sighed Willie. He spoke to the chauffeur +dolefully, then appeared at the door to wail helplessly:</p> + +<p>"There seems to be no room for me."</p> + +<p>"You're only the host," said Winifred. "Hop on behind."</p> + +<p>"You can sit on my lap," said Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>And as that was the only vacant space, the big man +lifted him up and set him there. The footman, reassured +by the tip in his hand, grinned at the spectacle and +laughed, as he closed the door: "Is you all in?"</p> + +<p>Seven persons were packed where there was hardly +space for five; but Forbes noted that they were as in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>formal +and good-natured as yokels on a hay-ride. All +except Willie, and his distress was not because of the crowd.</p> + +<p>The car had no more than left the theater when Mrs. +Neff was groaning:</p> + +<p>"A cigarette, somebody, quick—before I faint!"</p> + +<p>Winifred by a mighty twisting produced a concaved +golden case and snapped it open, only to gasp:</p> + +<p>"Empty! My God, it's empty!"</p> + +<p>Persis saved the day. "I have some. Give us a light, +Willie. There's a dear."</p> + +<p>As usual, Willie had a counter-idea.</p> + +<p>"But, Persis, don't you think you could wait till—"</p> + +<p>Her only answer was, "Murray, give me a light."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck called out, "Right-o, milydy, if Bob will +hold our little hostlet half a mo." And he deposited Willie +in the arms of the big man while he fumbled in his waistcoat +for a book of matches and passed it back into the +dark. "'Ere you are, your lydyship." He was forever +talking in some dialect or other.</p> + +<p>But Persis gave him her cigarette and pleaded: "It's +so conspicuous holding a match to your face on Broadway. +Light mine for me, Murray."</p> + +<p>"It's highly unsanitary," said Ten Eyck; "but if you +don't mind I don't. I fancy these cigarettes of yours +would choke any self-respecting microbe to death."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck kindled her cigarette as delicately as he could +and handed it to her. The same service he performed +for the other eager women, and the three were soon puffing +the close compartment so full of smoke that the men +felt no need of burning tobacco of their own.</p> + +<p>When a particularly bright glare swept into the car +from the street the women made a pretense of hiding +their cigarettes; but it was an ostrich-like concealment, +and Forbes could see other women in other cabs similarly +engaged. During his absence smoking had evidently +become almost as commonplace among the women as +among the men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes, cramped of leg and choked of lung, was wondering +at his presence here. It was a far cry from Manila. +He had never dreamed when he showed an ordinary human +interest in the melancholy Ten Eyck, fallen ill there +on a jaunt around the world, that his courtesy in the +wilderness would be repaid with usury in the metropolis. +Nor had he learned from Ten Eyck's unobtrusive manner +that he was a familiar figure in the halls of the mighty. +Forbes had cast an idle crust on the waters, and lo, it +returned as a frosted birthday cake!</p> + +<p>He had come to town at noon a lonely stranger, and +before midnight he was literally in the lap of beauty and +chumming with wealth and aristocracy in their most +intimate mood.</p> + +<p>The sidewalks outside were packed with theater crowds +till they spilled over at the curbs, and the streets were +filled with all sorts of vehicles till they threatened the +sidewalks. Guiding a car there was like shooting a rapids +full of logs in a lumber-drive, but Enslee's man was an +expert charioteer.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they whirled off Broadway, and, describing +a short curve, came to a stop. A footman opened the +door, but nobody moved.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck said: "The problem now is how do we get +out. I'm so mixed up with somebody, I don't know my +own legs." Like a wise man of Gotham, he jabbed his +thumb into the mixture, and asked, "Are those mine?"</p> + +<p>"No, they are not!" said Winifred.</p> + +<p>Willie was lowered ashore first. Bob What's-his-name +bulged through next, then Ten Eyck, then Forbes. Ten +Eyck dropped into the gutter the three lighted cigarettes +that had been hastily pressed into his hand, and turned +to help the women out.</p> + +<p>Forbes, wondering where they were, looked up and read +with difficulty a great sign in vertical electric letters, +"Reisenweber's."</p> + +<p>Willie told his chauffeur to wait, and the car drew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +down the street to make room for a long queue of other +cars. Ten Eyck led the flock into a narrow hall, and +filled the small elevator with as many as could get in. +He included Forbes with the three women, and remained +behind with Willie and Bob.</p> + +<p>Crowded into the same space were two young girls, +very pretty till they spoke, and then so plebeian that +their own beauty seemed to flee affrighted. The blonde +seraph was chanting amid her chewing-gum:</p> + +<p>"He says to me, 'If you was a lady you wouldn't 'a' +drank with a party you never sor before,' and I come back +at him, 'If you was a gempmum you'd 'a' came across with +the price of a pint when you seen I was dyin' of thoist.'"</p> + +<p>And the brunette answered: "You can't put no trust +in them kind of Johns. Besides, he tangoes like he had +two left feet."</p> + +<p>Forbes was uneasy till Persis whispered, "Don't you +just love them?" Then a door opened and they debarked +into a crowded anteroom. While they waited for +the car to descend and rise again with the rest of the +party the women gave their wraps to a maid, and Forbes +delivered his coat and hat and stick across a counter to +a hat-boy.</p> + +<p>When Ten Eyck, Willie, and Bob appeared and had +checked their things the seven climbed a crowded staircase +into an atmosphere riotous with chatter and dance-music +of a peculiarly rowdy rhythm.</p> + +<p>But they could only hear and feel the throb of it. +They could not see the dancers, so thick a crowd was +ahead of them.</p> + +<p>A head waiter appeared, and, curt as he was with the +rest of the mob, he was pitifully regretful at losing Mr. +Enslee, who had failed to reserve a table and who would +not wait.</p> + +<p>It was disgusting to slink back down the stairs, regain +the wraps and coats and hats, and make two elevator-loads +again. Willie alone was cheerful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now, maybe you'll go to the Plaza or some place and +have a human supper."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to have a trot and a tango if I have to hunt +the town over," said Persis.</p> + +<p>Willie gnashed his teeth, but had the car recalled, and +asked her where she would go.</p> + +<p>"Let's try the Beaux Arts," she said; and they huddled +together once more.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad we were thrown out of Reisenweber's," +Winifred pouted. "I was dying to see François dance +and have a dance with him."</p> + +<p>Forbes felt well enough acquainted by now to ask: +"Pardon my ignorance, but who is François?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's a love of a French lad," said Winifred. +"Everybody's mad over him. I used to see him in Paris +dancing between the tables at the Café de Paris or the +Pré-Catalan with some girl or other. Then somebody +brought him over here for a musical comedy, and he's +been on the crest of the wave ever since."</p> + +<p>"They say he's getting rich dancing in theaters and +restaurants and giving lessons at twenty-five per."</p> + +<p>"Somebody was telling me he actually makes fifteen +hundred to two thousand dollars a week," said Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>"If I had that much, would you marry me, Persis?" +said Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>"In a minute," said Persis. "We might earn it ourselves. +You dance as well as he does, and you could +practise whirling me round your neck."</p> + +<p>"Then we're engaged," said Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>"It's outrageous!" said Willie. "That fellow with an +income equal to five per cent. on a couple of million +dollars."</p> + +<p>"What you kicking about, Willie?" said Winifred. "You +get several times as much, and you never lifted hand or +foot in your life."</p> + +<p>"But Willie's father did," said Mrs. Neff. "He killed +himself working."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Willie has it much better arranged," said Bob. "Instead +of Willie working for money he has the money working +for him."</p> + +<p>"It works while he sleeps," said Winifred.</p> + +<p>Forbes was thinking gloomily in the gloom of the car. +This dancer, this mountebank, François, was earning as +much in a week as the government paid him in a year, +after all his training, his campaigning, his readiness to +take up his residence or lay down his life wherever he +was told to.</p> + +<p>Then he compared his income with Willie Enslee's. +Enslee did not even dance for his supper, yet into his +banks gold rained where pennies dribbled into Forbes' +meager purse. And it was not a precarious salary such +as dancers and soldiers earned by their toil; it was the +mere sweat from great slumbering masses of treasure.</p> + +<p>Forbes felt no longer an exultance at falling in with +these people. He felt ashamed of himself. He was no +more a part of the company he kept than a gnat on an ox +or a flea caught up in the ermine of a king. The air grew +oppressive. He felt like a tenement waif patronized for +a moment on a whim, and likely to be tossed back to his +poverty at any moment. He wanted to get out before +he was put out. The very luxuries that enthralled him +at first were intolerable now. The perfume of the women +and their flowers lost its savor. Their graces had gone. +They were all elbows and knees. He suffocated as in a +black hole of Calcutta.</p> + +<p>When a footman at the Café des Beaux Arts wrenched +the door open and let the cool air in, it was welcome. +Forbes moved to escape. But he was kept prisoner while +Bob was sent as an avant courier. He returned with the +bad news that he was unable even to reach a head waiter.</p> + +<p>The car nosed round, turned with difficulty, and went +to Bustanoby's. It was the same story here.</p> + +<p>"New York's gone mad, I tell you!" Willie raved. +"And nobody is as crazy as we are. To think of us going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +about like a gang of beggars pleading to be taken in and +allowed to dance with a lot of hoodlums and muckers. +Even they won't have us."</p> + +<p>"We'll try once more," said Persis. "The Café de +Ninive."</p> + +<p>After a brief voyage farther along Broadway the suppliant +outcasts entered a great hall imposingly decorated +with winged bulls and other Assyrian symbols. The +huge space of the restaurant was a desert of tables untenanted +save by a few dejected waiters and a few couples +evidently in need of solitude.</p> + +<p>An elevator took the determined Persis and her cohort +up to another thronged vestibule.</p> + +<p>Persis had said to Willie in the car, "If you don't get +us a table here I'll never speak to you again."</p> + +<p>With this threat as a spur Little Willie accosted a large +captain of waiters, who shrugged his shoulders and indicated +the crowd inside and the crowd outside. Willie +fumbled in his pockets, and his hand slyly met that of +the captain, who glanced into his palm, then up to heaven +in gratitude, and laid aside all scruple.</p> + +<p>Willie triumphantly beckoned Persis, who approached +the captain with the pouting appeal of a lady of the court +to a relenting sovereign.</p> + +<p>"Fritz," she said, "you've got to take care of us."</p> + +<p>"How can I refuse Mees Cabot," said Fritz. "Do +you weesh to seet and watch the artists, or to seet weeth +the dancers?"</p> + +<p>"We want to dance," said Persis.</p> + +<p>"There is one table resairve for a very great patron. +You shall have it. I shall lose me my poseetion, and he +will tear down the beelding; but that is better as to +turn away Mees Cabot and Meester Enslee."</p> + +<p>He whispered to a horrified captain on the other side +of a silk rope. The barrier was removed, and they were +within the sacred inclosure, while the baffled remnant +gnashed its teeth outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE room they were in was a mass of tables compacted +around a central space, where professional entertainers +were displaying the latest fashions in song and dance. A +pair of "Texas Tommy" dancers were finishing a wild +gallopade with a climax, in which the man hurled the +woman aloft as if he were playing diabolo with her, +caught her on his long sticks of arms, and spun her round +his neck, then let her drop head first, rescuing her from a +crash by the breadth of her hair, swinging her back between +his legs and across his hip. When her heels +touched the floor he bent her almost double and gazed +Apache murder into her eyes. Her hair fell loose on cue, +and then he righted her, and they were bowing to the +rapturous applause. When they retired they were panting +like hunted rabbits and sweating like stevedores.</p> + +<p>And now a somewhat haggard girl, who looked as if +she had forgotten how to sleep, dashed forward in a snowbird +costume and sang a sleigh-bell song. Little bells +jingled about her, and the crowd kept time by tapping +wine-glasses with forks or spoons. Some kept time also +with their rhythmic jaws.</p> + +<p>The girl sang in a mock childish voice in the nasal +dialect of the vaudevilles, with "yee-oo" for "you," and +"tree-oo" for "true," and "lahv" for "love." The +words of the song were too innocent, and not important +enough to detain Persis, who felt herself drawn by the +distant music of a turkey-trot in the farthest room. The +warring counterpoint of the two orchestras only added to +the lawless excitement of the throng. The dance was just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +over, and the dancers were settling down to their chairs, +their deserted plates and glasses. The guide led them +to the only empty table, whisked off the card "Reserved," +and turned them over to a waiter.</p> + +<p>While Willie scanned the supper card Mrs. Neff lapsed +into reminiscence. It was the only sign she had given +thus far that she had earned her white hair by age, and +not by a bleach.</p> + +<p>"Funny how this building tells the story of the last few +years," she said. "A few winters ago we thought it was +amusing to go to supper at a good restaurant after the +theater, have something nice to eat and drink, talk a +while, and go home to bed. We thought we were very +devilish, and preachers railed at the wickedness of late-supper +orgies. And now the place down-stairs is deserted. +Just taking late supper is like going to prayer-meeting.</p> + +<p>"Then somebody started the cabaret. And we flocked +to that. We ate the filthiest stuff and drank the rottenest +wine, and didn't care so long as they had some sensational +dancer or singer cavorting in the aisle. They were so +close you could hear them grunt, and they looked like +frights in their make-up. But we thought it was exciting, +and the preachers said it was awful. But it has become +so tame and stupid that it is quite respectable.</p> + +<p>"At present we are dancing in the aisles ourselves, +crowding the professional entertainers off their own +floors. And now the preachers and editors are attacking +this. Whatever we do is wrong, so, as my youngest boy +says, 'What's the use and what's the diff?'"</p> + +<p>"Only one thing worries me," said Winifred, as she +peeled her gloves from her great arms and her tiny hands. +"What will come next? Even this can't keep us interested +much longer."</p> + +<p>"The next thing," Willie snapped, "will be that we'll +all go into vaudeville and do flip-flaps and the split and +such things before a hired audience of reformed ballet-girls."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope they play a tango next," was all Persis said. +"Willie, call a waiter and ask him to ask the orchestra +to play a tango."</p> + +<p>"Wait, can't you?" he protested. "Let's get something +to eat ordered first. We've got to buy champagne to +hold our table; but we don't have to drink the stuff. +What do you want, Persis? Winifred? Mrs. Neff, what +do you want?—a little caviar to give us an appetite, +what? What sort of a cocktail, eh? What sort of a +cocktail, uh?"</p> + +<p>Before an answer could be made the orchestra struck +up a tune of extraordinary flippance. People began to +jig in their chairs, others rose and were in the stride before +they had finished the mouthfuls they were surprised with; +several caught a hasty gulp of wine with the right hand +while the left groped for the partner. The frenzy to +dance was the strangest thing about it.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Murray!" cried Persis. "Willie, order anything. +It doesn't matter." Her voice trailed after her, +for she was already backing off into the maelstrom with +her arms cradled in Ten Eyck's arms.</p> + +<p>Bob Fielding, with his usual omission of speech, swept +Winifred from her chair, and she went into the stream +like a ship gliding from her launching-chute. Mrs. Neff +looked invitingly at Willie, but he answered the implication:</p> + +<p>"I'll not stir till I've had food."</p> + +<p>Forbes leaned over to explain to the marooned matron:</p> + +<p>"I wish I could ask you to honor me; but I don't know +how."</p> + +<p>She smiled almost intolerantly and sank back with a +sigh just as a huge and elderly man of capitalistic appearance +skipped across the floor and bowed to her knees. +She fairly bounded into his arms. The two white polls +mingled their venerable locks, but their curvettings were +remarkably coltish. Mrs. Neff, who had sons in college +and daughters of marriageable age, was giving an amazing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +exhibition. She backed and filled like a yacht in stays; +she bucked and ducked like a yacht in a squawl; she +whirled like a dervish, slanting and swooping; her lithe +little body draped itself closely about the capitalist's great +curves; her little feet followed his big feet or retreated +from them like two white mice pursued by two black cats.</p> + +<p>At first Forbes was disgusted; the one epithet he could +think of was "obscene." As he watched the mêlée he +felt that he was witnessing a tribe of savages in a mating-season +orgy. He had seen the Moros, the Igorrotes, the +Samoans, and the Nautch girls of Chicago, and the meaning +of this turmoil was the same. He knew that the dance +was the invention of negroes. Its wanton barbarity was +only emphasized by the fact that it was celebrated on +Broadway, in the greatest city of what we are pleased to +admit is the most civilized nation in the world.</p> + +<p>He could not adjust it to his mind. In the eddies he +saw women of manifest respectability, mothers and wives in +the arms of their husbands, young women who were plainly +what are called "nice girls," and wholesome-looking +young men of deferential bearing; yet mingled with them +almost inextricably, brushing against them, tripping over +their feet, tangling elbows with them, were youth of precocious +salacity, shop-girls of their own bodies, and repulsive +veterans from the barracks of evil. And the +music seemed to unite them all into one congress met +with one motive: to exploit their sensual impulses over +the very borders of lawlessness.</p> + +<p>Thus Forbes, left alone with Willie Enslee, regarded +the spectacle with amazement verging on horror, and +thought in the terms of Jeremiah and Ezekiel denouncing +Jerusalem, Moab, and Baal.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Willie Enslee studied the menu and gave +his orders to the waiter. When the supper was commanded +Enslee lifted his eyes to the dancers, shook his +head hopelessly, and, reaching across the table, tapped +Forbes on the arm and demanded:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look at 'em! Just look at 'em! Can you believe +your own eyes, uh? Now I ask you, I ask you, if you can +see how a white woman could hold herself so cheap as to +mix with those muckers, and forget her self-respect so +far?"</p> + +<p>It was a weak voicing of Forbes' own repugnance, yet +as soon as Willie spoke Forbes began to disagree with +him. Willie was fatally established among those people +with whom one hates to agree. As soon as one found +Willie holding similar views, one's own views became +suspect and distasteful—like food that is turned from in +disgust because another's fork has touched it.</p> + +<p>And there might have been a trace of jealousy in +Forbes' immediate anger at Enslee's opinions. In any +case, here he was, in the notorious haunts of society, +seated in its very unholy of unholies, and gazing on its +pernicious rites, and saying to his host:</p> + +<p>"I must say I don't see anything wrong."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">HARVEY FORBES came of a Southern stock that +inherited its manners with its silver. Both were a +trifle formal, yet very gracious and graceful.</p> + +<p>The family had lost its silver in the Civil War; but the +formalities and the good manners remained as heirlooms +that could be neither confiscated nor sold off.</p> + +<p>He had known something of New York as a cadet at +West Point. He had seen the streets as he paraded them +on one or two great occasions; he had known a few of its +prominent families; but principally Southrons.</p> + +<p>He knew that the careful people of that day would have +shuddered at the thought of dancing even a minuet in +public. They surrounded admission to their festivities +with every possible difficulty, and conducted themselves +with rigid dignity in the general eye. Even the annual +event of the Charity Ball had been countenanced only for +the sake of charity, and fell into disfavor because of the +promiscuity of it.</p> + +<p>In the Philippines Forbes had seen the two-step drive +out the waltz; but it had not there, as here, almost ended +the vogue of dancing altogether.</p> + +<p>And now, after a few years of immunity, people were +tripping again as if the plague of the dancing sickness had +broken out. The epidemic had taken a new form. Grace +and romance were banished for grotesque and cynical +antics. The very names of the dances were atrocious—bunny-hug, +Texas Tommy, grizzly bear, turkey-trot.</p> + +<p>It was a peculiar revolution in social history that +people who for so long had refused to dance in public or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +at all should take up the dance and lay down their exclusiveness +at the same time, and with a sort of mania; +and that they should be converted to these steps by a +dance that had first startled the country from the vaudeville +stage, and had been greeted as a disgusting exhibition +even for the cheaper theaters.</p> + +<p>By a strange insidiousness the evil rhythms had infected +the general public. The oligarchy was infatuated to the +point of finding any place a fit place. The aged were +hobbling about. The very children were capering and refusing +the more hallowed dances.</p> + +<p>Forbes was not ready to see how quickly such things +lose their wickedness as they lose their novelty and rarity. +"The devil has had those tunes long enough," said John +Wesley, as he turned the ribald street ballads into hymns.</p> + +<p>But with Forbes, as with everybody, vice lost her hideous +mien when her face became familiar. Like everybody +else, he first endured, then pitied, then embraced. +Later he would talk as Persis did and Ten Eyck; he would +proclaim the turkey-trot a harmless romp, and the tango +a simple walk around. Later still he would turn from +them all in disgust, not because he repented, but because +they were tiresome. But for the present he was smitten +with revulsion. The very quality of the company had +served as a proof of the evil motive.</p> + +<p>Even though he told Willie Enslee he saw nothing +wrong, he sat gasping as at a turbulent pool of iniquity.</p> + +<p>Motherly dowagers in ball costumes bumped and +caromed from the ample forms of procuresses. Young +women of high degree in the arms of the scions of great +houses jostled and drifted with walkers of the better +streets, chorus-girls who "saved their salary," sirens from +behind the counters.</p> + +<p>As the dance swirled round and round among the gilded +pillars, the same couples reeled again and again into view +and out, like passengers on a merry-go-round.</p> + +<p>Forbes watched with the eager eyes of a fisher the re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>appearance +of Persis. It pleased him to see in her manner, +and in Ten Eyck's, an entire absence of grossness; but it +hurt him surprisingly to see her in such a crew and responding +to the music of songs whose words, unsung but +easily remembered or imagined, were all concerned with +"teasing," "squeezing," "tantalizing," "hypnotizing," +"honey babe," "hold me tight," "keep on a-playin'," +"don't stop till I drop," and all the amorous animality +of the slums.</p> + +<p>He found himself indignant at Ten Eyck's intimacy with +the wonderful girl. They clung together as closely as they +could and breathe. Now they sidled, now they trotted, +now twirled madly as on a pivot. Their feet seemed to be +manacled together except when they dipped a knee almost +to the ground and thrust the other foot far back.</p> + +<p>Then gradually, in spite of him, the music began to invade +his own feet. He felt a yearning in his ankles. The +tune took on a kind of care-free swagger, a flip boastfulness. +He wanted to get up and brag, too. His feeling +for Ten Eyck was not of reproof, but of envy. He longed +to take his place.</p> + +<p>When at length the music ended he felt as if he had +missed an opportunity that he must not miss again. He +had witnessed a display of knowledge which he must +make his own.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck brought Persis back to the table, and the +other women returned, Mrs. Neff's partner nodding his +head with a breathless satisfaction as he relinquished her +and rejoined his own group.</p> + +<p>The eyes of all the women were full of sated languor. +They had given their youthful spirits play, and they +were enjoying a refreshed fatigue.</p> + +<p>The waiter had meanwhile set cocktails about, and +deposited two silver pails full of broken ice, from which +gold-necked bottles protruded. And at each place there +were slices of toast covered with the black shot of +caviar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>The dancers fell on the appetizers with the appetite +of harvesters. Persis thrilled Forbes with a careless:</p> + +<p>"It's too bad you don't trot, Mr. Forbes."</p> + +<p>"He's not too old to learn," said Ten Eyck. "It's +really very simple, once you get the hang of it."</p> + +<p>And he fell into a description of the technic.</p> + +<p>"The main thing is to keep your feet as far from each +other as you can, and as close to your partner's as you +can. And you've got to hold her tight. Then just step +out and trot; twirl around once in a while, and once in a +while do a dip. Keep your body still and dance from +your hips. And—get up here a minute and I'll show +you."</p> + +<p>Forbes was embarrassed completely when Ten Eyck +made him stand up and embrace him. But the people +around made no more fun of them than revivalists make +of a preacher and a new convert. They were proselytes +to the new fanaticism. Forbes, as awkward as an overgrown +school-boy, picked up a few ideas in spite of his +reluctance.</p> + +<p>He sat down flushed with confusion, but determined +to retrieve himself. In a little while the music struck up +once more.</p> + +<p>"L'ave your pick in the air, the band's begun again," +said Ten Eyck. "Come on, Winifred!" Bob Fielding +lifted Mrs. Neff to her feet and haled her away, and Persis +was left to Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to try it?" she said, with an irresistible +simplicity.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I'd disgrace you."</p> + +<p>"You can't do that. Come along. We'll practise it +here."</p> + +<p>She was on her feet, and he could not refuse. He rose, +and she came into his arms. Before he knew it they were +swaying together. He had a native sense of rhythm, and +he had been a famous dancer of the old dances.</p> + +<p>He felt extremely foolish as he sidled, dragging one foot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +after the other. He trod on her toes, and smote her with +his knee-caps, but she only laughed.</p> + +<p>"You're getting it! That's right. Don't be afraid!"</p> + +<p>Her confidence and her demand gave him courage like +a bugle-call. But he could not master the whirl till she +said, as calmly as if she were a gymnastic instructor:</p> + +<p>"You must lock knees with me."</p> + +<p>Somehow and quite suddenly he got the secret of it. +The music took a new meaning. With a desperate masterfulness +he swept her from their back-water solitude +out into the full current.</p> + +<p>He was turkey-trotting with Persis Cabot! He wanted +everybody to know it. This thought alone gave him the +braggadocio necessary to success.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he was too busy thinking of his feet, perhaps +the dance really was not indecent; but certainly his +thoughts of her were as chivalrous as any knight's kneeling +before his queen.</p> + +<p>And yet they were gripping one another close; they +were almost one flesh; their thoughts were so harmonious +that she seemed to follow even before he led. She +prophesied his next impulse and coincided with it.</p> + +<p>They moved like a single being, a four-legged—no, not +a four, but a two-legged angel, for his right foot was +wedded close to her left, and her left to his right.</p> + +<p>And so they ambled with a foolish, teetering, sliding +hilarity. So they spun round and round with knees +clamped together. So they seesawed with thighs crossed +X-wise, all intermingled and merged together. And now +what had seemed odious as a spectacle was only a sane +and youthful frivolity, an April response to the joy of +life, the glory of motion. David dancing before the Lord +could not have had a cleaner mind, though his wife, too, +contemned and despised him, and for her contempt won +the punishment of indignant God.</p> + +<p>Abruptly, and all too soon, the music stopped. The +dancers applauded hungrily, and the band took up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +last strains again. Again Forbes caught Persis to him, +and they reveled till the music repeated its final crash.</p> + +<p>Then they stood in mutual embrace for an instant +that seemed a long time to him. He ignored the other +couples dispersing to their tables to resume their interrupted +feasts.</p> + +<p>He was bemused with a startled unbelief. How marvelous +it was that he should be here with her! He had +come to the city a stranger, forlorn with loneliness, at +noonday. And at noon of night he was already embracing +this wonderful one and she him, as if they were +plighted lovers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WILLIE ENSLEE brought the dancers off their +pinions and back to earth by a fretful reminder that +the bouillon was chilling in the cups, and the crab-meat +was scorching in the chafing-dish.</p> + +<p>The question of drinks came up anew. Forbes was in +a champagne humor; his soul seemed to be effervescent +with little bubbles of joy. But Mrs. Neff wanted a Scotch +highball. Winifred was taking a reduction cure in which +alcohol was forbidden. Persis wanted two more cocktails. +Ten Eyck was on the water-wagon in penance for +a recent outbreak. Bob Fielding was one of those occasional +beings who combine with total abstinence a life +of the highest conviviality. Offhand, one would have said +that Bob was an incessant drinker and a terrific smoker. +As a matter of fact, he had never been able to endure the +taste of liquor or tobacco. When he ordered mineral +water, or even milk, nobody was surprised; even the +waiter assumed that the big man had just sworn off once +more.</p> + +<p>Forbes experienced a sinking of the heart as each of the +guests named his choice, and nobody asked for any of the +waiting champagne.</p> + +<p>Yet when Willie turned to him and said, "Mr. Forbes, +you have the two bottles of <i>brut</i> all to yourself," Forbes +felt compelled to shake his head in declination. He +never knew who got the champagne. He wondered if the +waiter smuggled it out or juggled it on the accounts. +And Willie forgot to ask Forbes what he would have instead! +Willie ordered for himself that most innocent of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +beverages which masquerades ginger ale and a section of +lemon peel under the ferocious name, the bloodthirsty +and viking-like title of "a horse's neck." There was a +lot of it in a very large glass, and Forbes noted how Willie's +little hand looked like a child's as he clutched the beaker. +And he guzzled it as a child mouths and mumbles a brim.</p> + +<p>Forbes observed how variously people imbibed. There +were curious differences. Some shot their glasses to their +lips, jerked back their heads, snapped their tongues like +triggers, and smote their throats as with a solid bullet. +Some stuck their very snouts in their liquor like swine; +others seemed hardly to know they were drinking as they +flirted across the tops of their glasses.</p> + +<p>Persis did not raise her eyes as she sipped her cocktail. +She looked down, and her lips seemed to find other lips +there. Forbes wondered whose.</p> + +<p>There was some rapid stoking of food against the next +dance. When it irrupted, Forbes, greatly as he longed to +dance again with Persis, invited Winifred for decorum's +sake. Winifred speedily killed the self-confidence he had +gained from his first flight. His sense of rhythm was incommensurate +with hers. When she foretold his next +step, she foretold it wrong. He lost at once the power to +act as leader, and when she usurped the post he was no +better as follower.</p> + +<p>As Forbes wrestled with her he caught glimpses of Persis +dancing with Willie for partner. Little Willie's head +barely reached her bare shoulder. He clutched her desperately +as one who is doomed from babyhood not to be +a dancer. Still he hopped ludicrously about, and almost +made her ludicrous.</p> + +<p>Forbes longed to exchange partners with Willie, for he +felt that he and Winifred were equally ludicrous. They +were making the heaviest of going. He gave up in despair +and returned to the table.</p> + +<p>When the music stopped there was another interlude +of supper. People gulped hastily, as at a lunch-counter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +when the train is waiting. Forbes intended to sit out the +next dance; but he found himself abandoned as on a desert +island with Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>"Come along, young man," she said.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't know how."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll teach you."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid of me. I've got a son as old as you, +and I taught him."</p> + +<p>Forbes had danced at times with elderly women, but +not such a dance as this. It was uncanny to be holding +in his arms the mother of a grown man, and to be whirling +madly, dipping and toppling like wired puppets.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff's spirit was still a girl's. Her body felt as +young and lissome in his arms as a girl's. Her abandon +and frivolity were of the seminary period. Now and then +he had to glance down at the white hair of the hoyden +to reassure himself. The music had the power of an incantation; +it had bewitched her back to youth. It seemed +to Forbes that this magic alone, which should turn old +women back to girlhood for a time, could not be altogether +accursed.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the music had unsettled his reason, but in the +logic of the moment he felt that there was a splendid value +in the new fashion, which broke down at the same time +the barriers of caste and the walls of old age.</p> + +<p>It was the Saturnalia come back. The aristocrats +mingled as equals with the commoners, and the old became +young again for yet a few hours.</p> + +<p>He had read so much about the cold, the haughty, and +the bored-to-death society of New York, yet here he +was, a young lieutenant from the frontier, and he was +dancing a breakdown with one of the most important +matrons in America. And she was cutting up like a hired +girl at a barn-dance. Plainly the nation was still a +republic.</p> + +<p>When the music ended with a jolt Mrs. Neff clung dizzily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +to him, gave him an accolade of approval with her fan, +and booked him for the next dance but one. If Forbes +had had social ambitions, he would have felt that he was +a made man. Yet if he had had social ambitions he +would probably have betrayed and so defeated them.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff having granted him a reprieve of one dance, +Forbes made haste to ask Persis for the next. She smiled +and gave him that wren-like nod.</p> + +<p>His heart beat with syncopation when he rose at the +first note of music. How differently she nestled and +fitted into his embrace. Winifred had been more than an +arm-load, and gave the impression of an armor of silk and +steel and strained elastic. Mrs. Neff was too slender for +him, and for all her agility there was a sense of bones and +muscles. But Persis was flesh in all its magic. She was +not bones nor muscles nor corsets, she was a mysterious +embodiment of spirit and beauty, fluid yet shapely, unresisting +yet real, gentle and terrible.</p> + +<p>By now Forbes was familiar enough with the trickeries +of the steps to leave his feet to their own devices. He +was a musician who knows his instrument and his art well +enough to improvise: soul and fingers in such rapport +that he hardly knows whether the mood compels the +fingers or the fingers suggest the mood.</p> + +<p>And the same rapport existed with Persis. They +evaded collisions with the other dancers and with the +gilded columns by a sort of instinct; they sidled, whirled, +dipped, pranced, or pirouetted, composed strange contours +of progress as if with one mind and one body.</p> + +<p>And now the rapture of the dance was his, and he was +enabled to play upon her grace and her miraculously pliant +sympathy. Her brow was just at the level of his lips, +and he began to wish to press his lips there. Now and +then her eyelids rose slowly and she looked up into his +downward gaze. They were mysterious looks she gave +him. They were to her as impersonal and vague as the +rapture that fills the eyes when the west is epic with sun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>set, +or when an orchestra pours forth a chord of unusual +ecstasy, or a rose is so beautiful that it inspires a kind +of heavenly sorrow.</p> + +<p>But Forbes misunderstood. He usurped to himself the +tribute she was unconsciously paying to the mere beatitude +of being alive and in rhythmic motion to music.</p> + +<p>We have built up strange subtleties of perception. +The most intolerable discords are those of tones that lie +just next each other; the harshest of noises rise when an +instrument is only a little out of tune or a voice sings a +trifle off the key.</p> + +<p>Persis had accepted Forbes at Ten Eyck's rating as a +gentleman to whom she could intrust her body to embrace +and carry through the complex evolutions of a dance on +a floor whose very throngs made a solitude and concealment +for wantonness of thought and carriage.</p> + +<p>So intimate a union is required when two people dance +that it is easy to understand why the enemies of the dance +denounce it as shameless carnality. It is hard to explain +to them how potently custom and minute restraints permit +an innocent dalliance with the materials of passion. +One can only compare it to skating over thin ice, and say +that so long as one keeps on skating a tiny crust of chill +permits a joyous exercise without a hint of the depths +beneath. And the ice itself gives warning when the +danger is too close; its tiny crackling sound is thunder in +the ears.</p> + +<p>This was Forbes' experience. A beautiful woman of +exquisite breeding gave him a certain enfranchisement of +her person. He could take her in his arms, and she him +in hers. She would make herself one flesh with him; he +could sway her this way and that, drag her forward or +backward, co-exist with her breast to breast, thigh to +thigh, and knee to knee. But he must not ever so slightly +take advantage of her faith in him. He must not by +the most delicate pressure or quirk of muscle imply anything +beyond the nice conventions and romantic pretenses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +of the dance. Actresses make the same distinctions with +stage kisses, and endure with pride before a thousand +eyes what they would count a vile insult in the shadow +of the wings or at a dressing-room door.</p> + +<p>Forbes made the old mistake. Nothing venture, nothing +gain, is a risky proverb. He ventured almost unconsciously, +without any baseness of motive. Or, rather, he +did not so much venture as relax his chivalry. He breathed +too deeply of her incense, paid her the tribute of an +enamored thought, constrained her with an ardor that +was infinitesimally more personal than the ardor of the +dance.</p> + +<p>Somehow she understood. Instantly she was a little +frightened, a little resentful. As subtle as the pressure +of his arm was the resistance of her body. The spell of +the dance was dissolving, the thin ice crackling. He +whispered hastily:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me!"</p> + +<p>She simply whispered:</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>And the spirit of the temple of dance was rescued and +restored. He had sung a trifle sharp, and she, like a perfect +accompanist, had brought him back to the key.</p> + +<p>But even as they whirled on and hopped and skipped +in the silly frivolity of the turkey-trot he was solemnly +experiencing an awe of her. And now her beauty was +less victorious over him than that swift pride which could +rebuke so delicately, that good-sportsmanship which could +so instantly accept apology.</p> + +<p>When the music ended he mumbled:</p> + +<p>"Will you ever dance with me again?"</p> + +<p>She abashed him with the true forgiveness that forgets, +and spoke with all cheerfulness:</p> + +<p>"Of course! Why not?"</p> + +<p>The incident was closed in her heart. Its influence had +just begun in his.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE turbulence of the dance increased as the respectable +people were sifted out. Hysteria is a kind of +fretful fatigue, and the wearier these children of joy were, +the more reckless they grew.</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee first insinuated, then declared that he +had had enough. He yawned frankly and abysmally. +He urged that it was high time they were all in bed. But +the women begged always for yet another dance.</p> + +<p>"Just one little 'nother," Winifred wheedled.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck whispered, "About this time Winifred always +begins to talk baby-talk."</p> + +<p>She was soon calling Forbes "the li'l snojer man." +Whether the wine or the dance were the chief intoxicant, +a tipsiness of mood prevailed everywhere. It affected +individuals individually: this one was idiotically amused, +that one idiotically tearful, a third wolfishly sullen, a +fourth super-royally dignified, a fifth so audacious that +her befuddled companions tried to restrain her.</p> + +<p>The thin ice was breaking through in spots, and a few +of the couples were floundering in black waters.</p> + +<p>Others were merely childish in their wickedness. They +tried to be vicious, and their very effort made them only +naughty.</p> + +<p>It all reminded Forbes of certain savage debauches he +had witnessed. Only the savages lacked the weapons of +costume. It was curious—to a philosopher it was amusingly +curious—to see how much excitement it gave some +of these people to expose or behold a shoulder or a shin +more than one ordinarily did. The peculiar cult that has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +grown about the human leg, since it has been wrapped up, +is surely one of the quaintest phases of human inconsistency.</p> + +<p>But intention is the main thing, and a circus woman in +trapeze costume may suggest less erotic thought than a +flirt who merely gathers her opera cloak about her closely. +There was no mistaking the intention of some of these +dancers. It was vile, provocative, and, since it was +public, it was hideous. Mobs left without rule or inspiring +rulers always degenerate into excesses. The pendulum +that swings too far one way is only gathering heavier +and heavier impetus to the other extreme.</p> + +<p>It happens whenever emotions are overstrained. At +religious revivals and camp-meetings and crusades, no +less than at revels, the aftermath is apt to be grossness. +These people had danced too long. It was time to go home.</p> + +<p>Forbes finally agreed with Willie that it was no place +for decent people. He began to wish very earnestly that +Persis were not there. He would rather miss the sight of +her than see her watching such spectacles. He felt a deep +yearning that she should be ignorant of the facets of life +that were glittering here. This longing to keep another +heart clean or to restore it to an earlier purity is the +first blossom of real love.</p> + +<p>The floor grew so rowdy that Forbes would no longer +take Persis out upon it. He did not ask her to dance +again. Even when she raised her eyebrows invitingly he +pretended not to understand.</p> + +<p>Then she spoke frankly:</p> + +<p>"Sha'n't we have another dance? They're playing the +tune that made Robert E. Lee famous."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I'm too tired," he pleaded. As soon as he +had spoken he felt that the pretext was insultingly inadequate +addressed to a woman and coming from a soldier +used to long hikes. But it was the only evasion he could +imagine in his hurry. Instead of turning pale with anger, +as he expected, she amazed him by her reply:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's very nice of you."</p> + +<p>"Nice of me," he echoed, fatuously, "to be tired?"</p> + +<p>"Umm-humm," she crooned.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, just because."</p> + +<p>Then he understood that she had read his mind, and +she became at once a sibyl of occult gifts. This ascription +of extraordinary powers to ordinary people is +another sign that affection is pushing common sense +from his throne. Parents show it for their newborn, +and what is loving but a sort of parentage by reincarnation?</p> + +<p>Forbes thought that he wore a mask of inscrutable +calm, because he was accustomed to repressing his naturally +impetuous nature. He had not realized that the most +eloquent form of expression is repression. It is the secret +of all great actors, and enables them to publish a volume +of meaning in a glance or a catch in the voice, a quirk of +the lips or a twiddling of the fingers.</p> + +<p>Forbes never dreamed that the gaucherie of his excuse +showed the desperation of his mind and the strain on his +feelings, and that while his lips were mumbling it his +eyes were crying:</p> + +<p>"Don't stay here any longer. You are tired. You +do not belong here. I beg you to be careful of your soul +and body. Both are precious. It makes a great difference +to me what you see and do and are."</p> + +<p>All this was writ so large on his whole mien that anybody +might have read it. Even Winifred read it and +exchanged a glance with Mrs. Neff, who read it, too. +Naturally, Persis understood. The feeling surprised her in +a stranger of so brief acquaintance. But she did not resent +his presumption as she did Willie's equal anxiety. She +rather liked Forbes for it.</p> + +<p>Then she saw his consternation at her miraculous +powers, and she liked him better yet for a strong and +simple man whose chivalry was deeper than his gallantry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +And when a man from another table came across to ask +her to dance with him, she answered:</p> + +<p>"Sorry, Jim, we're just off for home. Come along, +Willie. Are you going to keep us here all night?"</p> + +<p>Willie lost no time in huddling his flock away from +the table. He fussed about them like a green collie pup.</p> + +<p>They paused at the door for a backward look. Seen +in review with sated eyes, it was a dismal spectacle. +On the floor a few dancers were glued together in crass +familiarity, making odious gestures of the whole body. +At the disheveled tables disheveled couples were engaged +in dalliance more or less maudlin. Many of the women +were adding their cigarette-smoke to the haze settling +over all like a gray miasma.</p> + +<p>"Disgusting! Disgusting!" Willie sneered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the poor things!" sighed Mrs. Neff. "What other +chance have they? At a small town dance they'd behave +very carefully in the light, and stroll out into the moonlight +between dances. Good Lord, I used to have my +head hugged off after every waltz. I'd walk out to get +a breath of air, and have my breath squeezed out of +me. But these poor city couples—where can they spoon, +except in a taxi going home, or on a park bench with a +boozy tramp on the same bench and a policeman playing +chaperon? Let 'em alone."</p> + +<p>But she yawned as she defended them, and looked suddenly +an old woman tired out. They all looked tired.</p> + +<p>They slipped weary arms into the wraps they had flung +off with such eagerness. In the elevator they leaned +heavily against the walls, and they crept into the limousine +as if into a bed.</p> + +<p>Forbes said that he would walk to his hotel. It was +just across the street. They bade him good night drearily +and slammed the door.</p> + +<p>He watched the car glide away, and realized that he was +again alone. None of them had asked him to call, or mentioned +a future meeting. Had he been tried and discarded?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE sky was black, and the stars dimmed by the +street-lights. Stars and street-lights seemed to be +weary. The electric acrobats had knocked off work, and +hung lifeless upon their frames like burned-out fireworks.</p> + +<p>A grown-up newsboy, choosing a soft tone as if afraid +to waken the sleeping town, murmured confidentially:</p> + +<p>"Morn' paper? <i>Joinal</i>, <i>Woil</i>, <i>Hurl</i>, <i>Times</i>, <i>Sun</i>, +<i>Tolegraf</i>? Paper, boss?"</p> + +<p>Forbes bought one to enjoy the paradox of reading to-morrow's +paper last night.</p> + +<p>He entered the brightly lighted lobby of the hotel. It +was deserted save by two or three scrubwomen dancing a +"grizzly bear" on all fours. They looked to be grandmothers. +Perhaps their granddaughters were still dancing +somewhere.</p> + +<p>Once in his room, Forbes stared from his window across +the slumbrous town. The very street-lamps had the droning +glimmer of night lights in a bedroom. The few who +were abroad wore the appearance of prowlers or watchmen +or hasteners home. New York was not so lively all +night as he had been taught to believe.</p> + +<p>While he peeled off his clothes he glanced at his newspaper. +The chief head-lines were given, not to the +epochal event of the first parliament in the new republic +of China, nor to the newest audacity in the Amazonian +insurrection in London, but to an open letter sent by the +mayor of New York to the police commissioner of New +York, calling upon him "to put an end to all these vulgar +orgies" of the "vulgar, roistering, and often openly im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>modest" +people who "indulge in lascivious dancing." +The mayor announced that one o'clock in the morning +was none too soon for reputable people to stop dancing. +He instructed the commissioner to see to it that at +that hour thereafter every dance-hall was empty, if he +had to take the food and drinks from the very lips of the +revelers and put them in the street.</p> + +<p>Forbes was amazed. The great, the wicked city still +had a Puritan conscience, a teacher to punish its naughtiness +and send it to bed—and at an hour that many farmers +and villagers would consider early for a dance to end. +Forbes was startled to realize that he was included in the +diatribe, and that those ferocious words were applied to +Persis, too.</p> + +<p>In all the things he had to wonder at this was not the +least wonderful. He stepped into his pajamas and spread +himself between his sheets, too weary to reach forth a +hand and turn out the little lamp by his bed.</p> + +<p>He had slept no more than half an hour when suddenly +he wakened. The last cry of a bugle seemed to be ringing +in his ears. He sat up and looked at his watch. It +was the hour when for so many years the cock-a-doodle-doo +of the hated reveille had dragged him from his blankets. +Habit had aroused him, but he thanked the Lord +that now he could roll over and go back to sleep.</p> + +<p>He rolled over, but he could not sleep. Daylight was +throbbing across the sky like the long roll of the drums. +Street-cars were hammering their rails. The early-morning +population was opening the city gates, and the +advance-guards of the commercial armies were hurrying +to their posts. The city, which he had seen at its dress-parade +and at its night revels, was beginning its business +day with that snap and precision, that superb zest and +energy and efficiency that had made it what it was.</p> + +<p>It was impossible for Forbes to lie abed where so much +was going on. Fagged as he was, the air was electric, +and he had everything to see.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>He pried his heavy legs from the bed, and clenched his +muscles in strenuous exercise while his tub filled with cold +water. He came out of it renewed and exultant.</p> + +<p>When he was dressed and in the hall he surprised the +chambermaids at their sweeping. They were running +vacuum cleaners like little lawn-mowers over the rugs.</p> + +<p>In the breakfast-room he was quite alone. But the +streets were alive, and the street-cars crowded with the +humbler thousands.</p> + +<p>He walked to Fifth Avenue. It was sparsely peopled +now, and even its shops were still closed. The homes were +sound asleep, save for an occasional tousled servant +yawning at an area, or gathering morning papers from the +sill.</p> + +<p>He walked to Central Park. The foliage here was wide +awake and all alert with the morning wind. He strolled +through the Zoo; the animals were up and about—the +bison and deer, the fumbling polar bears. The lions and +tigers were already pacing their eternal sentry-posts; +the hyenas and wolves were peering about for the +loophole that must be found next time; the quizzical +little raccoons were bustling to and fro, putting forth grotesque +little hands.</p> + +<p>Forbes crossed bridges and followed winding paths +that led him leagues from city life, though the cliffs of +the big hotels and apartment-houses were visible wherever +he turned. On one arch he paused to watch a cavalcade +of pupils from a riding-school. He was surprised to see +them out so early. Other single equestrians came along +the bridle-path, rising and falling from their park saddles +in the park manner.</p> + +<p>There were few women riding, and few of these rode +sidewise. He was used to seeing women astride in the +West; but here they did not wear divided skirts and +sombreros; they wore smart derby hats, long-tailed coats, +riding-trousers, and puttees.</p> + +<p>Coming toward him he noted what he supposed to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +an elderly man and his son. They were dressed almost +exactly alike. As they approached, he saw that the son +was a daughter. The breeze blew back the skirts of her +coat, and as far as garb was concerned she was as much +a man as the white-mustached cavalier alongside.</p> + +<p>He clutched the rail hard. The girl was Persis, different, +yet the same. There was a quaintly attractive boyishness +about her now, an unsuspected athleticism. Her +hair was gathered under her hat, her throat was clasped +by a white stock. Her cutaway coat was buttoned tightly +over a manly bosom, and her waist was not waspish. +Her legs were strong, and gripped the horse well.</p> + +<p>He could hardly believe that the lusciously beautiful +siren he had seen with bare shoulders and bosom, and +clinging skirts, the night before, was this trimly buttoned-up +youth in breeches and boots. Could an orchid and a +hollyhock be one and the same?</p> + +<p>He had felt sure that at this hour, and on till noon, she +would be stretched out in a stupor of slumber under a silken +coverlet in a dark room.</p> + +<p>The night had been almost ended when he had left her +heavy-eyed with fatigue, yet the morning was hardly begun +when he saw her here with face as bright and heart +as brisk as if she had fallen asleep at sunset.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were turned full upon him when she looked +up before she passed under the bridge.</p> + +<p>A salvo of greeting leaped into Forbes' eyes, and his +hand went to his hat; but before he could lift it she had +lowered her eyes. She vanished from sight beneath +him, without recognition.</p> + +<p>He hurried to the other side of the bridge, to catch +her glance when she turned her head. But she did not +look. She was talking to the elderly man at her side. +She was singing out heartily:</p> + +<p>"Wake up, old boy, I'll beat you to the next policeman."</p> + +<p>The old boy put spurs to his horse, and they dwindled +at a gallop.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes watched her till the trees at the turn in the +bridle-path quenched her from his sight. The light went +out of his sky with her.</p> + +<p>She had looked at him and not remembered him! He +would have known it if she had meant to snub him. He +had not even that distinction. He was merely one of the +starers always gazing at her.</p> + +<p>He had held her in his arms. But then so many men +had held her in their arms when she danced. Even his +daring had not impressed her memory. So many men +must have pressed her too daringly. It was part of the +routine of her life, to rebuff men who made advances to +her.</p> + +<p>Forbes left the bridge and left the park, humbled to +nausea. His cheeks were so scarlet that the conductor +on the Seventh Avenue car stared at him. He could not +bear to walk back to his hotel. When he reached there +he went to his room, dejected. There was nothing in the +town to interest him. New York was as cold and heartless +as report had made it.</p> + +<p>He realized that he was very tired. He lay down on +his bed. A mercy of sleep blotted out his woes. It +seemed to be only a moment later, but it was high noon +when his telephone woke him. He thought it an alarm-clock, +and sat up bewildered to find himself where he was +and with all his clothes on.</p> + +<p>From the telephone, when he reached it, came the voice +of Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>"That you, Forbesy? Did I get you out of bed? +Sorry! I have an invitation for you. You made a hell +of a hit with Miss Cabot last night. I know it, because +Little Willie is disgusted with you. Winifred says she is +thinking of marrying you herself, and Mrs. Neff says +you can be her third husband, if you will. Meanwhile, +they want you to have tea with us somewhere, and more +dancings. Wish I could ask you to take breakfast with +me at the Club, but I was booked up before I met you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +Save to-morrow for me though, eh? I'll call for you this +afternoon about four, eh? Right-o! 'By!"</p> + +<p>Forbes wanted to ask a dozen questions about what +Persis had said, but a click showed that Ten Eyck had +hung up his receiver. Forbes clung to the wall to keep +the building from falling on him.</p> + +<p>She had not forgotten him! She had been impressed +by him! It was small wonder that she had not known +him this morning. Had he not thought her a young man +at first? Besides, she had had only a glance of him, and +he was not dressed as she had seen him first.</p> + +<p>The main thing was that she wanted to see him again, +she wanted to dance with him again. She had betrayed +such a liking for him that the miserable runt of a Little +Willie had been jealous.</p> + +<p>What a splendid city New York was! How hospitable, +how ready to welcome the worthy stranger to her splendid +privileges!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES had planned to visit the Army and Navy +Club, in which he held a membership, but now he +preferred to lunch alone—yet not alone, for he was entertaining +a guest.</p> + +<p>The head waiter could not see her when Forbes presented +himself at the door of the Knickerbocker café. +And when he pulled out the little table to admit Forbes +to a seat on the long wall-divan that encircles the room, +the head waiter thought that only Forbes squeezed through +and sat down. The procession of servitors brought one +plate, one napkin, silver for one, ice and water for one, +brown bread and toast for one; and the waiter heard but +one portion ordered from the <i>hors d'œuvres variés</i>, from +the <i>plat du jour</i> in the <i>roulante</i>, and from the <i>patisseries</i>.</p> + +<p>But Forbes had a guest. She sat on the seat beside him +and nibbled fascinatingly at the banquet he ordered for +her.</p> + +<p>The vivacious throng that crowds this corner room at +noon paid Forbes little attention. Many would have +paid him more had they understood that the ghost of +Persis Cabot was nestling at his elbow, and conspiring +with him to devise a still newer thing than the dancing +tea or the tango luncheon—a before-breakfast one-step. +In fancy he was now thridding the maze between the +tables with her.</p> + +<p>But he paid for only one luncheon. The bill, however, +shocked him into a realization that he could not long afford +such fodder as he had been buying for himself. He decided +to get his savings deposited somewhere before they +had slipped through his fingers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>On his way to New York he had asked advice on the +important question of a bank, and had been recommended +to an institution of fabulous strength. It did not pay +interest on its deposits, but neither did it quiver when +panics rocked the country and shook down other walls.</p> + +<p>When Forbes computed the annual interest on his savings, +the sum was almost negligible. But the thought of +losing the principal in a bank-wreck was appalling. He +chose safety for the hundred per cent. rather than a risky +interest of four. Especially as he had heard that Wall +Street was in the depths of the blues, and New York in +a doldrums of uncertainty.</p> + +<p>To Forbes, indeed, nearly everybody looked as if he +had just got money from home and expected more, and +the talk of hard times was ludicrous in view of these +opulent mobs and these shop-windows like glimpses of +Golconda. But perhaps this was but the last flare of a +sunset before nightfall.</p> + +<p>In any case, he was likely to have his funds tempted +away from him, and he must hasten to push them into +a stronghold. He found at the bank that there was a +minimum below which an account was not welcome. +His painful self-denials had enabled him just to clear that +minimum with no more interval than a skilful hurdler +leaves as he grazes the bar.</p> + +<p>He felt poorer than ever for this reminder of his penury, +and he almost slunk from the bank. Just outside he stumbled +upon Ten Eyck, who greeted him with a surprised:</p> + +<p>"Do you bank here?"</p> + +<p>"I was just opening an account," Forbes answered.</p> + +<p>"Pardon my not lifting my hat before," said Ten +Eyck. "I didn't know your middle name was Crœsus."</p> + +<p>Forbes could only shrug his shoulders with deprecation. +He had no desire to pose as a man of means, and yet he +had too much pride to publish his mediocrity.</p> + +<p>"I'll call for you at four, Mr. Rothschild," said Ten +Eyck. "Got a date at Sherry's here. Good-by!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>The afternoon promised to be unconscionably long in +reaching four o'clock, and Forbes set out for another +saunter down the Avenue. There was a mysterious +change. It might have been that the sky had turned gray, +or that the best people were not yet abroad; but the +women were no longer so beautiful. He kept comparing +them with one that he had learned to know since yesterday +afternoon's pageant had dazzled him. Already there +was a kind of fidelity to her in this unconscious disparagement +of the rest of womankind.</p> + +<p>He did not explain it so easily to himself, nor did he +understand why the shop-windows had become immediately +so interesting. Yesterday a spadeful of diamonds +dumped upon a velvet cloth was only a spadeful of diamonds +to him, and it was nothing more. It stirred in +him no more desire of possession than the Metropolitan +Art Gallery or the Subway. He would have been glad +to own either, but the lack gave him no concern.</p> + +<p>This afternoon, however, he kept saying: "What +would she think if I gave her that crown of rubies and +emeralds? Does she like sapphires, I wonder? If only +I had the right to take her in there and buy her a dozen +of those hats? If that astounding gown were hung upon +her shoulders instead of on that wax smirker, would it be +worthy of her?"</p> + +<p>He found himself standing in front of jewelers' windows, +and trying to read the prices on the little tags. +He had already selected one ring as an engagement ring, +when he managed by much craning to make out the price. +He fell back as if a fist had reached through the glass to +smite him. If he could have drawn out his bank-account +twice he could not have paid for it.</p> + +<p>He gave up looking at diamonds and solaced himself +by the thought that before he bankrupted the United +States Army with buying her an engagement ring, he had +better get her in love with him a little.</p> + +<p>This train of thought impelled him to pause now be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>fore +the windows of haberdashers. Without being at all +a fop, he had a soldier's love of splendor, and he saw +nothing effeminate in the bolts of rainbow clippings which +men were invited to use for shirts. He looked amorously +at great squares of silk meant to be knotted into neck-scarves, +of which all but a narrow inch or two would be +concealed. And he saw socks that were as scandalously +brilliant as spun turquoises or knitted opals.</p> + +<p>These little splashes of color were all that the sober +male of the present time permits himself to display. +They were all the more enviable for that. From one +window a hand seemed to reach out, not to smite, but to +seize him by his overworked scarf and hale him within. +He departed five dollars the poorer and one piece of silk +the richer, and hurried back to his room ashamed of his +vanity.</p> + +<p>On his way thither he remembered that he was still +an officer in the regular establishment, and the first +thing he did on his return to his room was to compose a +formal report of his arrival in New York City. He sent +it to the post at Governor's Island, so that in case a war +broke out unexpectedly, an anxious nation might know +where to find him.</p> + +<p>The only war on the horizon, however, was the civil +conflict inside his own heart. His patriotism was undergoing +a severe wrench. He was expected to maintain the +dignity of the government on a salary that a cabaret performer +would count beneath contempt. And for this he +was to give up his liberty, his independence, and his time. +For this he was to teach nincompoops to raise a gun from +the ground to their round shoulders, and to keep from +falling over their own feet; for this he was to plow through +wildernesses, give himself to volleys of bullets or mosquitoes +to riddle, or worse yet, to live in the environs of a +great city where beauty and wealth stirred a caldron of +joy from which he must keep aloof.</p> + +<p>But that was for next week. For a few days more he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +was exempt; he was a free man. And she wanted to +dance with him again! She would not even wait for night +to fall. She would dance with him in the daylight—with +tea as an excuse!</p> + +<p>He began feverishly to robe himself for this festival. +Luckily for him and his sort, men's fashions are a republic, +and Forbes' well-shaped, though last year's, black morning +coat, the pin his mother gave him years ago skewering +the scarf he had just bought, his waistcoat with the little +white edging, his heavily ironed striped trousers, and his +last night's top-hat freshly pressed, clothed him as smartly +as the richest fop in town. It is different with women; +but a male bookkeeper can dress nearly as well, if not so +variously, as a plutocrat.</p> + +<p>Forbes had devoted such passionate attention to the +proper knotting of that square of silk, that he was hardly +ready when the room telephone announced that Mr. +Ten Eyck was calling for Mr. Forbes.</p> + +<p>But his pains had been so well spent that Ten Eyck, +meeting him in the lobby, lifted his hat with mock servility +again, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"Oh, you millionaire! Will you deign to have a drink +with a hick like me?"</p> + +<p>Forbes pleasantly requested him not to be a damned +fool, but the flattery was irresistible.</p> + +<p>They went to the bar-room, where, under the felicitous +longitude of Maxfield Parrish's fresco of "King Cole," +they fortified themselves with gin rickeys, and set forth +for the short walk down Broadway and across to Bustanoby's.</p> + +<p>They had been rejected here the night before, but Ten +Eyck, at Persis' request, had engaged a table by telephone.</p> + +<p>"It's Persis' own party," he explained; "but I have +sad news for you: Little Willie isn't invited. He's being +punished for being so naughty last night."</p> + +<p>"He acted as if he owned Miss Cabot," said Forbes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He usually does."</p> + +<p>"But he doesn't, does he?—doesn't own her, I mean?" +Forbes demanded, with an anxiety that did not escape +Ten Eyck, who answered:</p> + +<p>"Opinions differ. He'll probably get her some day, +unless her old man has a change of luck."</p> + +<p>"Her old man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Papa Cabot has always lived up to every cent +he could make or inherit; but he's getting mushy and +losing his grip. The draught in Wall Street is too strong +for him. Persis will hold on as long as she can, but +Little Willie is waiting right under the peach-tree with +his basket, ready for the first high wind."</p> + +<p>"She couldn't marry him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, couldn't she? And why not?"</p> + +<p>"She can't love a—a—him?"</p> + +<p>"He is an awful pill, but he's well coated. His father +left him a pile of sugar a mile high, and his mother will +leave him another."</p> + +<p>"But what has that to do with love?"</p> + +<p>"Who said anything about love? This is the era of +the modern business woman."</p> + +<p>Forbes said nothing, but looked a rebuke that led Ten +Eyck to remind him:</p> + +<p>"Remember you promised not to marry her yourself. +Of course, you may be a bloated coupon-cutter, but Willie +has his cut by machinery. If you put anything less than +a million in the bank to-day, you'd better not take Persis +too seriously. Girls like Persis are jack-pots in a big +game. In fact, if you haven't got a pair of millions for +openers, don't sit in. You haven't a chance."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you," Forbes thought, but did not +say.</p> + +<p>They reached the restaurant, and, finding that Persis +had not arrived, stood on the sidewalk waiting for her. +Many people were coming up in taxicabs, or private cars, +or on foot. They were all in a hurry to be dancing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's a healthier sport than sitting round watching +somebody else play baseball—or Ibsen," Ten Eyck +observed, answering an imaginary critic; and then he +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Here she is!" as a landaulet with the top lowered sped +down the street. The traffic rules compelled it to go +beyond and come up with the curb on its right. As it +passed Forbes caught a glimpse of three hats. One of them +was a man's derby, one of them had a sheaf of goura, one +of them was a straw flower-pot with a white feather like a +question-mark stuck in it. His heart buzzed with reminiscent +anxiety. He turned quickly and noted the number +of the car, "48150, N. Y. 1913." The woman he had followed +up the Avenue was one of those two.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur turned sharply, stopped, backed, and +brought the landaulet around with the awkwardness of an +alligator. A footman opened the door to Bob Fielding, +Winifred Mather, and Persis Cabot.</p> + +<p>The answer to the query-plume was Persis. Forbes +saw a kind of mystic significance in it.</p> + +<p>Winifred, as she put out her hand to him, turned to +Persis:</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell me our li'l snojer man was coming."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't sure we could get him," said Persis, and gave +Forbes her hand, her smile, and a cordial word. "Terribly +nice of you to come."</p> + +<p>He seized her hand to wring it with ardor, but its +pressure was so lax that he refrained. His eyes, however, +were so fervid that she looked away. For lack of support +his hopes dropped like a flying-machine that meets a +"hole in the air."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">SHE was talking the most indifferent nothings as +they went up the stairs to the dancing-room, a +largish space with an encircling gallery. As usual the +dancing-floor was a clearing in a thicket of tables. It +was swarming already with couples engaged in the same +jig as the night before.</p> + +<p>The costumes were duller than at night, of course. +Most of the men wore business suits; the women were not +décolletées, and they kept on their hats.</p> + +<p>Only Forbes noted at once that the crowd included +many very young girls and mere lads. Here, too, there +was a jumbled mixture of plebeian and aristocrat and all +the grades between. There were girls who seemed to +have been wanton in their cradles, and girls who were +aureoled with an innocence that made their wildest +hilarity a mere scamper of wholesome spirits.</p> + +<p>An eccentricity of this restaurant was a searchlight +stationed in the balcony. The operator swept the floor +with its rays, occasionally fastening on a pair of professional +dancers, and following it through the maze, +whimsically changing the colors of the light to red or +green or blue. For the general public the light was kept +rosy.</p> + +<p>When Forbes arrived a certain couple whirled madly off +the dancing-floor straight into the midst of Persis' guests, +with the havoc of a strike in a game of tenpins.</p> + +<p>The young man's heel ground one of the buttons of +Forbes' shoe deep into his instep, and the young girl's +flying hand smote him in the nose. He needed all his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +self-control to repress a yowl of pain and dismay. Persis +must have suffered equal battery, but she quietly straightened +out the dizzy girl and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Come right in, Alice; don't stop to knock."</p> + +<p>The girl under whose feet the floor still eddied clung +to Persis and stared at her a second, then gasped:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Cabot, is it <i>you</i>? I must have nearly +<i>killed</i> you. Can you ever <i>ever</i> for<i>give</i> me?"</p> + +<p>Persis patted her hand and turned her round to Forbes: +"You'd better ask Mr. Forbes. You gave him a lovely +black eye."</p> + +<p>The girl acknowledged the introduction with a duck +and a prayer of wild appeal:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Forbes, <i>what</i> a ghastly, <i>ghastly</i> shame! +Did I really hurt you? I must have simply <i>murdered</i> +you. I'm so <i>ashamed</i>. Can you ever <i>ever</i> forgive +me?"</p> + +<p>Forbes smiled at her melodramatic agitation: "It's +nothing at all, Miss—Miss—I never liked this nose, anyway. +I only wish you had hit it harder, Miss—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Neff," Persis prompted. "You met her mother +last night."</p> + +<p>Forbes vaguely remembered that somebody had said +something about a beautiful mother of a more beautiful +daughter; but he could not frame it into a speech, before +Persis startled the girl beyond reach of a pretty phrase, +by casually asking:</p> + +<p>"Were you expecting to meet your mother here this +afternoon, Alice?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, I should say <i>not</i>! Why?"</p> + +<p>"I just wondered. She is to meet us here."</p> + +<p>"When? In heaven's <i>name</i>! When?"</p> + +<p>"She ought to be here now."</p> + +<p>Alice thrust backward a palsied hand and, clutching the +young man she had danced with, dragged him forward. +He was shaking hands with Ten Eyck, and brought him +along.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stowe! Stowe!" Alice exclaimed, with a tragic fire +that did not greatly alarm the young man; he was apparently +used to little else from her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," he answered, with a lofty sweetness; and +she cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh, honey, what <i>do</i> you sup<i>pose</i>?"</p> + +<p>"What, dear?"</p> + +<p>"That awful Mother of mine is expected here any +<i>moment</i>!"</p> + +<p>The young man's majesty collapsed like an overblown +balloon in one pop: "Lord!"</p> + +<p>Tableau! Ten Eyck, seeing it, muttered, gloatingly:</p> + +<p>"Some folks gits ketched."</p> + +<p>Alice turned eyes of reproach upon him:</p> + +<p>"She'll <i>kill</i> us if she finds us together. Isn't there +some other way out?"</p> + +<p>"I could go down the stairs the waiters come up," said +Stowe; "but how will you get home?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mother will get me home all right, never fear!" +said Alice. "Run for your <i>life</i>, honey. I'll have my +maid call you on the 'phone later."</p> + +<p>The young man gave her one long sad look fairly reeking +with desperate kisses and embraces. Then he vanished +into the crowd.</p> + +<p>Alice must have remarked the comments in Forbes' +eyes, for she turned to him:</p> + +<p>"You mustn't misunderstand the poor boy, Mr. +Forbes. Mr. Webb is as <i>brave</i> as a <i>lion</i>, but he runs +away on my account. He knows that my mother will +give me no rest if she finds it out."</p> + +<p>"I understand perfectly," said Forbes. "There are +times when the better a soldier is the faster he runs!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Forbes is a soldier," Persis explained.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, twice as much!" said Alice, "for appreciating +the situation." Then she turned to Persis, +and clenched her arm as if she were about to implore some +unheard-of mercy: "And, Oh, Miss Cabot, will you do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +me one <i>terribly</i> great favor? I'll remember it to my <i>dying</i> +day, if you only will."</p> + +<p>"Of course, my dear," Persis answered, with her usual +serenity. "What is it? Do you want me to tell your +mother that I met you somewhere and dragged you here +against your will to meet her?"</p> + +<p>Alice's wide eyes widened to the danger-point:</p> + +<p>"Aren't you simply <i>wonderful</i>! How on earth could +you possibly have ever <i>ever</i> guessed it?"</p> + +<p>Persis cast a sidelong glance at Forbes; it had all the +effect of a wink without being so violent.</p> + +<p>"I'm a mind-reader," she said.</p> + +<p>Alice caught the glance but not the irony of it, and +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"In<i>deed</i> she is, Mr. Forbes. She really <i>is</i>."</p> + +<p>"I know she is," said Forbes, with a quiet conviction +that was almost more noisy than the violent emphasis +of Alice.</p> + +<p>Persis gave Forbes another sidelong glance; this time +with a meek wonderment in place of irony. Once more +the man had shown a kind of awe of her. Unwittingly +he was attacking her on her most defenseless wall; for +a woman who is always hearing praise of her beauty or +her vivacity, so hungers and thirsts after some recognition +of her intellectual existence that she is usually quite helpless +before a tribute to it.</p> + +<p>Persis knew that there was no importance in her guess +at what Alice was about to ask; but there was importance +in the high rating Forbes gave it. The comfort she found +in this homage was put to flight by Alice's nails nipping +her arm.</p> + +<p>"Before mother comes we must rehearse what we're to +say. She thinks I went to one of those lectures on Current +Topics. They're so very im<i>proving</i> that Mother +can't bear to go herself. She sends <i>me</i> and then forgets +to ask me what it was all about. So I sneaked it to-day +and met Stowe."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis could not resist a motherly question: "Is this +an ideal trysting-place, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Where's the harm? We couldn't go to the Park very +well. Everybody's always going <i>by</i> and looking <i>on</i>."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you receive Mr. Webb at home?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i> don't I, indeed! Mother won't allow him +within a <i>mile</i> of the place. Didn't you know that?"</p> + +<p>Persis shook her head and turned to Forbes: "Doesn't +it sound old-fashioned, a young girl afraid of her parents?"</p> + +<p>"Quite medieval," Forbes agreed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you are quaint, Alice," Persis laughed. "I +thought it only happened in books and plays, but here's +Alice actually obeying a cruel order like that. I'd like +to see my father try to boss me. I'd really enjoy it as +a change."</p> + +<p>Alice broke in: "Oh, fathers—they're different! My +poor Daddelums was the sweetest thing on earth. I +wrapped him round my little finger. But mother—umm, +she gets her own way, I can tell you—at least she <i>thinks</i> +she does. I wouldn't let <i>any</i> earthly power tear me away +from my darling Stowe, but I don't dare face her down."</p> + +<p>"I thought she always liked Mr. Webb?" Persis said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she did till his father's will was probated. His +insurance was immense, but his debts were immenser. +So poor Stowe is dumped upon the world with hardly a +cent. Of course, I love him all the more; but mother has +turned against him. I wouldn't mind starving with +Stowe, but mother is <i>so</i> materialistic! She wants to +marry me off to that dreadful old Senator Tait."</p> + +<p>"Dreadful?" snorted Winifred, who had listened in +silence. "Old? Senator Tait is neither dreadful nor +old. He is a cavalier, and in the prime of his powers."</p> + +<p>"You can have him!" snapped Alice, with a flare of +temper that she regretted instantly, and the more sincerely +since she knew that Winifred had long been angling +vainly and desperately for the Senator. There was a bitterer +sarcasm in her retort than she meant, but Winifred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +knew what Alice was thinking, and canceled it by meeting +it frankly:</p> + +<p>"I wish I could have him. God knows I'd prefer him +to any of these half-baked whippersnappers that—"</p> + +<p>"Winifred!" Persis murmured, subduingly; and Miss +Mather subsided like a retreating thunder-storm. "The +Senator is one of the—"</p> + +<p>"I know he is, my dear," Alice broke in, in her most +soothing tone. "He's far, <i>far</i> too splendid a man for a +fool like me. But can't I admit how splendid he would +be in the Senate Chamber without wanting him in my +boudoir?"</p> + +<p>"Alice!" gasped Persis. "Remember that there are +young men present."</p> + +<p>Forbes spoke very solemnly: "Pardon my asking, but +do you really mean that Senator Tait is—is proposing for +your hand?"</p> + +<p>"So my awful mother says."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't sound like the Senator Tait I used to know."</p> + +<p>"You knew him well?" Persis asked, with a quick eagerness +that did not quite conceal a note of surprise.</p> + +<p>Forbes caught it, and answered somewhat icily: "I +had that privilege. He and my father used to ride to the +hounds together. In fact, they were together when my +father's horse threw him and fell on him, and crushed him +to death. Senator Tait brought the body home to my +poor mother. He was very dear to us all."</p> + +<p>Persis looked what sympathy she could for such remote +suffering. And Forbes was something less of a stranger. +Also he had moved one step closer to her degree.</p> + +<p>He had appeared first under the auspices of Murray +Ten Eyck, who guaranteed him as an officer in the army. +He had demonstrated his own dignity and magnetism. +And now his family was sponsored by an old-time friendship +with Senator Tait, a very Warwick of American +royalty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS was not of the period or the set that thinks +much of family. In fact, the whole world and its +aristocracies have been shaken by too many earthquakes +of late to leave walls standing high enough to keep youth +from overlooking and overstepping them. Few speak of +caste nowadays except novelists, editors, and the very +old. What aristocracies we have are clubs or cliques +gathered by a community of tastes, and recruited individually.</p> + +<p>In any case, the Persis that was willing to go out into +the byways and highways and public dancing-places would +have made no bones of granting her smiles and her hospitality +to anybody that entertained her, mountebank or +mummer, tradesman or riding-master.</p> + +<p>And yet it did Forbes no harm in her eyes to be established +as of high lineage and important acquaintance. If +only now he were rich, he would be graduated quite into +the inner circle of those who were eligible to serious consideration.</p> + +<p>Unconsciously Ten Eyck gave him this diploma also, +though his motive was rather one of rebuke to Persis for +her little tang of surprise.</p> + +<p>"You needn't raise your brows, Persis, because Forbesy +knows senators and things," he said. "He's a plutocrat, +too. I caught him depositing a million dollars in one of +our best little banks to-day."</p> + +<p>"A million dollars!" Forbes gasped. "Is there that +much money in the world?"</p> + +<p>Forbes had no desire to obtain the reputation of money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +under false pretenses. Yet he could not delicately discuss +his exact poverty. He could not decently announce: +"I have only my small army pay and a few hundred dollars +in the bank." It would imply that these people were +interested in his financial status. Yet even the pretense +by silence troubled him, till his problem was dismissed by +an interruption:</p> + +<p>"Is anybody at home?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff spoke into the stillness as if she had materialized +from nothing. Nobody had noticed her approach, +and every one was startled. To Forbes her sharp +voice came as a rescue from incantation. And Mrs. Neff +was in the mood of the most unromantic reality. She +did not pause to be greeted or questioned, but went at +her discourse with a flying start:</p> + +<p>"I'm mad and I'm hungry as the devil—oh, pardon +me! I didn't see my angel child. Alice, darling, how +on earth did you get here? Murray, if you have a human +heart in your buzzum get the waiter man to run for a +sandwich and a—a—no, I'll be darned if I'll take tea, in +spite of example to youngers, who never follow our good +examples, anyway; make it a highball, Murray; Scotch, +and quick!"</p> + +<p>The waiter nodded in response to Ten Eyck's nod, and +vanished with an excellent imitation of great speed.</p> + +<p>"Give over, Win!" Mrs. Neff continued, prodding Miss +Mather aside and wedging forward with the chair Ten +Eyck surrendered to her. "What's in those sandwiches? +Lettuce? Thanks! Don't all ask me at once where I've +been! I'm the little lady what seen her dooty and done +it. If my angel child had done hers she would be even +now listening to a lecture on Current Topics, so that she +could inform her awful mother, as she calls me, what the +tariff talk is all about, and who Salonica is, and why the +Vulgarians are fighting the Balkans. But, of course, being +a modern child, she plays hookey and goes to <i>thés dansants</i> +while her poor old mother works."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But mother dear, I was just—"</p> + +<p>"Don't tell it, my child! I know what you're going +to say: that Persis picked you up and dragged you here +by the hair, and Persis will back you up, of course, like +the dear little liar she is. But I'll save you the trouble, +darlings. Where is he? Is he still here or did he learn +of my approach and flit?"</p> + +<p>"He—who?" said every one, zealously, with a stare +of innocence sadly overdone.</p> + +<p>"He—who?" Mrs. Neff mocked. "He-haw! Oh, but +you're a putrid lot of actors. So he has been here. Well, +I mention no names, but if a certain young person whose +initials are Stowe Webb wants to meet a little old lady +named Trouble, let him come out from under the table."</p> + +<p>"Mother dear, how you do run on," Alice protested. +"I don't think you really need another highball."</p> + +<p>"Another! Listen to that. Dutiful child trying to +save erring mother from a drunkard's grave! And me +choking with thirst since luncheon! Do you know where +I've been? Yes? Then I will tell you. I've been at +a committee meeting of the Vacation Savings Fund."</p> + +<p>The waiter brought a tiny flask, a tall glass, and a +siphon, and offered to mix her a potion; but she motioned +him aside and arranged it to her own taste. The band +struck up, and she sipped hastily as she talked:</p> + +<p>"That's the most insulting music I ever heard, and I'm +just mad enough to dance well. If nobody has any prior +claim on this young soldier man, he's mine. Mr. Forbes, +would you mind supporting your grandmother around the +room once or twice?"</p> + +<p>Forbes had counted on having this dance with Persis. +He had wasted one important tango while Alice poured out +her woes. To squander this dance on her mother was a +grievous loss. There was nothing for him to do, however, +but yield.</p> + +<p>He bowed low and smiled. "Nothing would give me +more pleasure."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff returned his bow with an old-fashioned +courtesy, as she beamed:</p> + +<p>"Very prettily said! Old fashioned and nice. My first +husband would have answered like that. Did Murray +tell you that I had offered you the job of being my third +husband?"</p> + +<p>"Mother!" Alice gasped.</p> + +<p>Forbes was exquisitely ill at ease. It is hard to parry +banter of that sort from a woman. He bowed again and +answered with an ambiguous smile:</p> + +<p>"Nothing would give me more pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Fine! Then we may as well announce our engagement. +Kind friends, permit me to introduce my next +husband, Mr.—Mr.—what is your first name, darling?"</p> + +<p>"Mother!" Alice implored.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure his first name can't be Mother. But +we're missing the dance. Come along, hero mine!"</p> + +<p>Forbes cast a farewell look of longing at Persis, who was +regarding him with an amused bewilderment.</p> + +<p>The blare of the band was as effectual as a Gabriel's +trumpet opening graves. From the tables the dead came +to life and took on stilts if not wings.</p> + +<p>Big Bob Fielding and Winifred Mather set out at once +in close embrace.</p> + +<p>"Look at 'em! Look at 'em!" Ten Eyck chortled. +"They're grappled like two old-time battleships on a +heavy sea." Ten Eyck was the great-great-grandson +of one of the first commissioned officers in the American +navy, a rival even of Paul Jones. So now his comment +was nautical. "Bob and Winifred remind me of the +<i>Bonhomme Richard</i> and the <i>Serapis</i>. And Winifred is like +old John Paul Jones: when everybody else is dead her +motto is: 'I've just begun to fight.'"</p> + +<p>But Alice could not smile. She folded her hands and +sighed. "It's awful to be a widow when they play that +tango."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis provided for her at once. "Murray, you take +Alice out and dance with her."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck saluted. "Come on, Alice, we'll go in for +the consolation stakes."</p> + +<p>Alice protested: "But we can't leave you alone."</p> + +<p>Persis beckoned to a lonesome-looking acquaintance +at another table, and he came to her with wings outstretched. +She locked pinions with him, and they were +away.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck put his arms up like racks; Alice hung herself +across them, and they romped away. As they performed +it, the dance was as harmless as a game of tag.</p> + +<p>As Persis was twirled past Forbes now and again, her +eyes would meet his with a gaze of deep inquiry.</p> + +<p>And he was thinking so earnestly of her that at some +indefinitely later period he was almost surprised to find +that Mrs. Neff was in his arms, and that they were footing +it intricately through a restless maze. He realized, also, +that he had not spoken to her yet. He cast about in +his mind for a topic of conversation, as one whips a dark +trout-pool, and brought up a question:</p> + +<p>"That Vacation Savings Fund—may I ask what it +is?"</p> + +<p>"You may, indeed, young man," she answered, and +talked glibly as she danced, occasionally imitating a strain +of music with mocking sounds. "It's an attempt a lot +of us old women have been making to teach the poor +woiking goil what we can't learn ourselves; namely, to +save up money—<i>la-de-de-da-de-da!</i> The poor things slave +like mules and they're paid like slaves—<i>te-dum-te-dum!</i>—yet +most of them never think of putting a penny by for +a rainy day, or what's more important—<i>ta-ra-rum!</i>—a +sunny day.</p> + +<p>"So Willie Enslee's mother, and Mrs. Clifton Ranger, +and the Atterby girls, and a gang of other busybodies got +ourselves together and cooked up a scheme—<i>la-de-de-da-de-da!</i>—to +encourage the girls to stay home—<i>ta-ra-rum!</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>—from +a few moving-picture fêtes and cut down their ice-cream-soda +orgies a little, and put the pennies into a fund +to be used in giving each of them—<i>te-dum-te-dum</i>—a little +holiday when her chance came—<i>te-di-do-dee!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Splendid!" said Forbes. "Did it work out?"</p> + +<p>"Rather. We started with forty girls, and now we've +got—how many do you suppose?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred and fifty."</p> + +<p>"Eight thousand! And they've saved fifty thousand +dollars!"</p> + +<p>"That's wonderful!" Forbes exclaimed, stopping short +with amazement. Instantly they were as battered and +trodden by the other dancers as a planet would be that +paused in its orbit.</p> + +<p>"Come on, or we'll be murdered!" cried Mrs. Neff, and +dragged him into the current again.</p> + +<p>Forbes looked down at her with a different feeling. This +typical gadabout, light-minded, cynical little old woman +with the girlish ways, was after all a big-hearted toiler in +the vineyard. She did not dress as a Sister of Charity, +and she did not pull a long and philanthropic face, but she +was industrious in good works.</p> + +<p>He was to learn much more of this phase of New York +wealth, its enormous organizations for the relief of wretchedness, +and its instant response to the human cry once +it makes itself heard above the noise of the cars or the +music of the band.</p> + +<p>City people have always made a pretense of concealing +their sympathetic expressions under a cynical mask. It +is this mask that offends so many of the praters against +cruelty, irritates them to denunciations more merciless +than the lack of mercy they berate, and blinds their nearsighted +eyes to the village heart that beats in every city—a +huge heart made up of countless village hearts.</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Neff, having betrayed an artless Samaritanism, +made haste to resume the red domino of burlesque +to hide her blushes, as children caught in a pretty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +action fall to capering. Her motive was not lost on +Forbes when she said:</p> + +<p>"We've got to do something to get into heaven, you +know. That line about the camel and the needle's eye +is always with us poor rich, though the Lord knows I'm +not rich. I hope you have a lot of money, or we'll starve—unless +we loot the Savings Fund."</p> + +<p>He hardly knew what to say to this, so he danced a +little harder and swept her off her feet, till she was gasping +for breath and pleading:</p> + +<p>"Stop, stop! I'm afraid I'm only an old woman after +all. And I didn't want you to know."</p> + +<p>He led her to a chair, where she sank exhausted and +panting hard. By the time the dance was over and the +rest had returned, she was herself again.</p> + +<p>"My new husband is the love of a tangoist," she babbled +across her highball. "If that infernal committee meeting +hadn't kept me so late, I could have had more. Are you +all going to the Tuesday to-night?"</p> + +<p>They all were.</p> + +<p>"I was to have taken Alice, but I'm going to put her +to bed without any supper. I'll take Mr. Forbes instead. +Will you come? Nothing would give you more pleasure. +That's right. Sorry I can't accept your invitation to +dinner, but I'm booked. What about the opera to-night? +It's 'Tristan and Isolde' with Fremstad. Senator Tait +was to have taken us, but he can't go; so Alice won't +care to go. He sent me his box, and I have all those +empty chairs to fill. Mr. Forbes can fill one. You can, +can't you?" He nodded helplessly, and she hunted him a +ticket out of a handbag as ridiculously crowded as a boy's +first pocket. "It begins at a quarter to eight. I can't +possibly be there before nine. You go when you want to. +Who else can come?"</p> + +<p>Persis said that she was dining at Winifred's with Willie, +and added: "He hates the opera, but if I can drag him +along I'll come. And if I can't I'll come anyway."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>Winifred accepted for Bob. "I always think I ought +to have been a grand-opera singer," she sighed, "I've got +the build for it."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck "had a dinner-job on," but promised to drop +in when he could.</p> + +<p>Having completed her quorum, and distributed her +tickets, Mrs. Neff made ready to depart by attacking her +highball again. The music began before she had finished +it, and Forbes rose before Persis with an old-time formula.</p> + +<p>"May I have the honor?"</p> + +<p>As Persis stepped into his arms, Winifred cried:</p> + +<p>"Traitress! It's my turn with the li'l snojer man."</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Neff caught Persis' elbow to say: "Be very +circumspect or I'll sue you for alienation of the alimony."</p> + +<p>Forbes and Persis sent back mocking smiles as they +side-stepped into the carousel.</p> + +<p>She was his again in the brief mock-marriage of the +dance. His very muscles welcomed her with such exultance +that he must forcibly restrain them from too ardent +a clasp. The whole mood of the music was triumph, +overweening boastfulness, and irresistible arrogance. It +was difficult to be afraid of anything in that baronial +walk-around.</p> + +<p>But Forbes was afraid of silence. It gave imagination +too loose a rein. To keep himself from loving her too +well, and offending her again after she had forgiven him +once, he had recourse to language, the old concealer of +thought.</p> + +<p>At first he had been too new to the steps to talk freely. +Words had blurted out of him as from a beginner in a +riding-school. But now there was a spirit in his feet that +led him who knows how?</p> + +<p>Forbes astonished Persis and himself by his first words:</p> + +<p>"Don't you ever sleep, Miss Cabot?"</p> + +<p>She threw him a startled glance. "Do I look so jaded +as all that?"</p> + +<p>He was so upset that he lost step and regained it with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +awkwardness of foot and word. "No, no, it's be—because +you look—you look as if you slept for—forever. I don't +mean that exact—exactly, either."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you mean, Mr. Forbes?"</p> + +<p>"I mean: I left you this morning at about four o'clock +in one costume, and I saw you at eight in another."</p> + +<p>"At eight this morning? Oh yes, I was riding with my +father. Were you riding, too? I didn't see you."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you did. I stood on the bridge at daybreak. +And you looked at me and cut me dead."</p> + +<p>"Did I really? I must have been asleep."</p> + +<p>"Far from it. Your eyes were as bright as—as—"</p> + +<p>"This music is very reassuring, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; please blame the music if I grow too rash. But +you really were wonderful. I thought you were a boy at +first. And you ride so well! You were racing your +father. How could you be so wide awake after so strenuous +a night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I had to get up. It is poor Dad's only chance +nowadays. He's awfully busy in the Street, and he's so +worried. And he needs the exercise. He won't take it +unless I go along."</p> + +<p>There was an interlude of tenderness in the music. He +responded to it.</p> + +<p>"That's very beautiful and self-sacrificing of you. +But how can you keep up the pace?"</p> + +<p>"I can't, much longer. I'm almost all in. The season +is nearly over, though. If everything goes right, Dad +and I will get out of town—to the other side, perhaps. +Then I can sleep all the way across. If he can't go +abroad, we'll be alone anyway, since everybody else will +leave town. Then I can catch up on sleep."</p> + +<p>"You must be made of iron," he said.</p> + +<p>"Am I so heavy as all that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, you are—you are—" But he could not +say anything without saying too much. She saved the +day by a change of subject.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And I stared right at you, and didn't know you?"</p> + +<p>"Why should you? It was stupid of me to expect you +to remember me. But I did, and—when you didn't, I +was crushed."</p> + +<p>"Of course you were," she crooned. "I always want +to murder anybody who forgets me."</p> + +<p>"Surely that can't happen often? How could any one +forget You?"</p> + +<p>It was perfectly sincere, yet it sounded like the bumptious +praise of a yokel. She raised her eyelids and +reproved him.</p> + +<p>"That's pretty rough work for a West-Pointer. Rub +it out and do it over again."</p> + +<p>Again he lost the rhythm, and suffered agonies of confusion +in recovering it. But the tango music put him on +his feet again. How could he be humble to that uppish, +vainglorious tune, that toreador pomposity?</p> + +<p>Persis herself was like a pouter pigeon strutting and +preening her high breast. All the dancers on the floor were +proclaiming their grandeur, playing the peacock.</p> + +<p>Forbes grew consequential, too, as he and Persis +marched haughtily forward shoulder to shoulder, and +outer hands clasped, then paused for a kick, whirled on +their heels, and retraced their steps with the high knee-action +of thoroughbreds winning a blue ribbon.</p> + +<p>Then each hopped awhile on one foot, the other foot +kicking between the partner's knees. Then they dipped +to the floor. As he swept her back to her full height, the +music turned sly and sarcastic. It gave an unreal color +to his words.</p> + +<p>"Will you pardon me one question?"</p> + +<p>"Probably not. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you wear this same hat yesterday?"</p> + +<p>Her head came up with a glare. "Isn't that a rather +catty remark for a man to make?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't mean it that way," he faltered. "It's a +beautiful hat."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No hat is beautiful two days in succession. It's unkind +of you, though, to notice it, and rub it in."</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake, don't take it that way. I—I followed +this hat of yours for miles and miles yesterday."</p> + +<p>"You followed this hat?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>They danced, marched, countermarched, pirouetted, +in a pink mist. And he told her in his courtly way, with +his Southern fervor, how he had been captivated by the +white plume, and the shoulder and arm, and the foot; +how vainly he had tried to overtake her for at least a +fleeting survey. He told her how keen his dismay was +when she escaped him and fled north. He told her how +he made a note of the number of her car. He did not +tell her that he forgot it, and he did not dare to tell her +that he was jealous of the unknown to whom she had +hastened.</p> + +<p>Persis could not but be pleased, though she tried to +disguise her delight by saying:</p> + +<p>"It must have been a shock to you when you saw what +was really under this hat."</p> + +<p>She had not meant to fish so outrageously for a compliment. +She understood, too late, that her words gave +him not only an excuse, but a compulsion to praise. +Praise was not withheld.</p> + +<p>"If you could only know how I—how you—how beautiful +you—how—I wish you'd let me say it!"</p> + +<p>"You've said it," she murmured. His confusion revealed +an ardor too profound to be rebuked or resisted. +She luxuriated in it, and rather sighed than +smiled:</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you like me."</p> + +<p>It was a more girlish speech than she usually made. +Unwittingly she crept a trifle closer to him, and breathed +so deeply that he felt her bosom swell against him with a +strangely gentle power. By immeasurably subtle degrees +the barrier between them dissolved, or rather shifted until<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +it surrounded them. They were no longer strangers. +They were together within a magic inclosure.</p> + +<p>He understood the new communion, and an impulse +swept him to crush her against him. He fought it so hard +that his arm quivered. She felt the battle in his muscles, +and rejoiced in the duel of his two selves, both hers. She +knew that she had a lover as well as a guardian in his +heart.</p> + +<p>She looked up to see what manner of man this was who +had won so close to her soul in so brief a time. He looked +down to see who she really was. Their eyes met and held, +longer than ever before, met studiously and hospitably, +as the eyes of two lonesome children that have become +neighbors meet across a fence.</p> + +<p>What she saw in his gaze gave a little added crimson +to her cheeks. And then the music flared up with a +fierce ecstasy that penetrated even their aloofness. He +caught her close and spun with her in a frenzied rapture +round and round. He shunted other dancers aside and +did not know it. He was glared at, rebuked, and did not +know it. The impetus of the whirl compelled a tighter, +tighter clutch. Their hands gripped faster. He forgot +everything in the mystic pursuit and surrender of the +dance, the union and disunion of their bodies—her little +feet companioning his, the satin and steel of her tense +sinews, the tender duality of her breast against the rock +of his, the flutter of her quick, warm breath on his throat, +the sorcery of her half-averted eyes tempting his lips +almost unbearably.</p> + +<p>The light burned about them like a flaming rose. The +other couples had paused and retreated, staring at them; +but they did not heed their isolation. They swooped and +careened and twirled till they were blurred like a spinning +top, till they were exhausted and wavering in their flight.</p> + +<p>At length he found that she was breathless, pale, +squandered. She hung all her weight on his arm, and +grew so heavy that it ached.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now, when he looked down at her, he saw that the +operator had inadvertently put upon them the green +light. In Forbes' eyes it had a sickly, cadaverous glimmer +as of death and dissolution. He did not know that +she was about to swoon; but she was so gray and lifeless +that he was frightened. In the green, clammy radiance +she looked as if she had been buried and brought back to +the daylight. She was horribly beautiful.</p> + +<p>Just in time the music came to an abrupt end, and the +<i>danse macabre</i> was done. But the floor still wheeled beneath +his feet, and he staggered as he held her limp and +swaying body.</p> + +<p>She shook the dizziness from her eyes, and put away +his arm, but seized it again. He supported her to the +table and guided her to a seat. Then he caught up a glass +and put it to her wan mouth.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck, who had been watching them from his place, +shoved a chair against Forbes relaxing knees, and set a +tall glass in his hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"Gad, old man, you need a drink!"</p> + +<p>Forbes took a gulp of a highball and sat staring at +Persis. Ten Eyck was quietly dipping his fingers into +his own glass and flicking water on Persis' face. She +regained her self-control wonderingly. Her lips tried +pluckily to smile, though her eyes studied Forbes with a +kind of terrified anger—more at herself than at him. +He met them with a gaze of adoration and dread.</p> + +<p>As his hot brow cooled, it seemed that an icy hand +passed across it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE safety match that resists all other friction needs +only the touch of its peculiar mate to break into +flame. And many chemical compounds, including souls, +change their behavior and expose their secret identities +when they meet just the right—or the just the wrong—reagent.</p> + +<p>Persis Cabot was the wonder of her world for being +at the same time so cordial and so cold, so lightly amused, +so extravagant, and yet apparently so immune to the follies +of passion. She was thought to be incapable of losing +either her head or her heart. Mrs. Neff called her "fireproof."</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee was universally accepted as her fiancé, +simply because his wealth and his family's prestige were +greater than anybody's else in her circle. This made +him the logical candidate. Everybody knew that he was +mad about Persis in his petty way. But nobody expected +Persis to fall madly in love with Willie, or to let that +failure keep her from marrying him.</p> + +<p>And now Forbes appeared from the wilderness and +strange influences began to work upon her. She began +to study the man with increasing interest. She resented +his effect upon her, and could not resist it. He was like +a sharp knife, or a loaded revolver, or the edge of a cliff, +quiet and unpursuing, yet latent with danger, terrifying +and therefore fascinating.</p> + +<p>Hitherto she had played with firearms and danced along +abysses and juggled daggers in many a flirtation, but always +she had kept her poise and felt no danger. Now +she was just a trifle startled by a feeling of insecurity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many men had made ferocious love to her, had tried +to set up a combustion in her heart, had threatened her +with violence, with murder and with suicide; and she had +laughed at them, laughed them back to the sanity she +had never lost.</p> + +<p>But this man Forbes made no campaign against her. +If he pressed her too hard in the dance he apologized at +once. He seemed to be at her mercy, and yet she felt +that he brought with him some influence stronger than +both. He was like one of Homer's warriors attended by a +clouded god or goddess bent on his victory or his destruction—she +could not tell which. When she caught him +gazing at her devouringly he looked away, yet she found +herself looking away, too, and breathing a little faster.</p> + +<p>Scores of men had embraced her as she danced with +them and some of them had muttered burning love into +her ear. But they left her cold. This man said little or +less, and he held her almost shyly; yet she felt a strange +kindling in his touch, saw in his eye a smoldering.</p> + +<p>In this last dance with him a panic of helplessness had +confounded her. He had whirled her about till she had +lost all sense of floor and ceiling. She felt herself falling +and spinning down the gulfs of space in a nightmare of +rapture. She would have swooned had he not seen how +white and lost she was and stopped short. She had felt +that other people were staring and making comments.</p> + +<p>She was afraid to dance with him again. When she had +regained her self-control she made a pretext to escape +out of the lateness of the hour and the necessity of dressing +for dinner and the opera.</p> + +<p>There was an almost hysterical flippancy in her chatter. +In spite of the protestations of the three men, she insisted +on paying the bill. It was her own party, she said. +The waiter looked sad at this, but what she left on the +plate tempered his despair of her sex.</p> + +<p>She offered to drop Forbes and Ten Eyck at their destinations, +and they clambered into her car with Winifred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +and Bob. Forbes was all too soon deposited at his hotel, +where the footman and the starter hailed Persis with +affectionate homage and Forbes with a new courtesy because +of her. Forbes lingered at the curb to watch her +away. As the landaulet sped toward Fifth Avenue all he +saw of her was the fluttering white interrogation-mark.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES was prompt at the Opera. Though it was +barely half past seven, he found the foyer already +swarming with a bustling mob of women swaddled +in opera-cloaks, and prosperous-looking men overcoated +and mufflered. Everybody was making haste. Dinners +had been gulped or skimped, and there was evident desire +not to miss a note.</p> + +<p>Forbes knew nothing of the music except a vague echo +of the ridicule on which Wagner had ridden to the clouds. +He was just as ignorant of the poem, and though he +bought a libretto from an unpromising vocalist in the +lobby, he had time only to skim the argument, and to +learn with surprise that Isolde was Irish, and her royal +husband, Mark, a Cornishman.</p> + +<p>The head usher directed him up a brief flight of steps, +and another attendant unlocked a door marked with the +name-plate of Lindsley Tait. From the little anteroom +where he hung up his hat and coat, Forbes saw as through +a telescope the vast curtain and the tremendous golden +arch of the proscenium; at its foot a pygmy orchestra +settling into tune and making oddly pleasant discords.</p> + +<p>When Forbes stepped to the edge of the box, he seemed +to be the entire audience, another mad King of Bavaria +come to witness a performance in solitude. The famous +red horseshoe stretched its length a hundred yards or +more on either side of him. In each of its little scallops +a family of empty chairs sat facing the stage in solemn +silliness. The owners were still filling chairs at dinner-tables.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>But when Forbes took the next step forward he found +a multitude. Above him he saw other horseshoes in +tiers dense with faces peering downward. Below him a +plain of Babel inhabited by the tops of heads, numberless +pates in long windrows, the men's skulls close-cropped or +bald, and their shoulders black; the women's elaborately +coiffed, over an enormous acreage of bared shoulders and +busts.</p> + +<p>Suddenly all the white-gloved hands fluttered in coveys +with the show and sound of innumerable agitated pigeons. +Toscanini was picking his way through the orchestra to +the desk.</p> + +<p>From the opening phrase of the Vorspiel Forbes became +a Wagnerian. Those first stifled moans of almost sullen +desire so whelmed him that he wondered how Persis and +Mrs. Neff and her guests should dare to be late and lose +this precious expression. Before the opera had finished +breaking his heart on its eternal wheel of anguish, he wondered +that any one should care to submit to its intolerable +beauty a second time.</p> + +<p>Yet here were thousands thronging to its destroying +blaze like fanatic moths—moths that paid a high price +to be admitted to the lamp, and clamored to be consumed +in its divine distress.</p> + +<p>Forbes smiled at the universal lust for artistic and +vicarious suffering that has made other people's pathos +the most lucrative of all forms of entertainment.</p> + +<p>The time was to come when he himself would pay +dearly for the privilege of great pain; when his mind would +strive futilely to dissuade his heart from clenching upon +the thorn that made it bleed. Humanity has almost always +preferred strong emotions at any cost, to peace however +cheap.</p> + +<p>The prelude was one long stream of bitter-sweet honey, +and it affected Forbes as music had never affected him. +He wondered how people could ever have ridiculed or resisted +this man Wagner. He wished that Persis would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +come soon. He thought of her as "Persis"—or "Isolde"; +he could not think of her as Miss Cabot to this music.</p> + +<p>The first act was ended and the long intermission almost +over before she arrived, with Enslee, followed immediately +by Bob and Winifred, and last of all by the +hostess, Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>Everybody greeted Forbes with the casual informality +of old friendship, except Willie Enslee, who nodded +obliquely, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"H' are yu, Mr. Ward."</p> + +<p>Nobody corrected him, least of all Forbes, who was too +much disgusted with Willie's existence there to feel any +minor resentment. The three women fell to wrangling, +altruistically, of course, over the two front seats. Mrs. +Neff was trying to bully Persis and Winifred into occupying +them. Winifred's demurrer was violent:</p> + +<p>"If I sit there nobody can see the stage. You're such +a little wisp I can see round you or through you."</p> + +<p>Persis preferred almost anything to a disturbance, and +her protest was a mere form.</p> + +<p>Only the rising curtain brought the battle to a close. +Persis dropped into a chair on the right. Winifred pushed +Mrs. Neff into the other, and sat back of her. Willie +annexed the chair behind Persis, Bob Fleming took that +aft of Winifred, and motioned Forbes to the center chair. +Then Mrs. Neff beckoned him to hunch forward into the +narrow space between her and Persis.</p> + +<p>All along the horseshoe people were just arriving or +returning from visits among the boxes. There was much +chatter. The orchestra might as well have been wasting +its sweetness on a crowded restaurant.</p> + +<p>Forbes pretended to be looking over the audience on +his right, but he was looking at Persis. The music of the +garden where Isolde awaited her Tristan, and the far-off +rumorous hunting-horns of the King, her husband, were +working a magic upon her. He could see its influence +on her face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>She wore brighter raiment than at the theater; her +head-dress was more imperious, and more jewelry glittered +about her. When she breathed or moved the diamonds +at her ears, her throat, and in her corsage flashed +and dulled as if they had eyelids; the pearls had a veiled +radiance.</p> + +<p>She was a combination of beauty unadorned and most +adorned. Despite her trappings of gem and fabric, even +more of her was candidly presented than at the theater +last night—or was it not a year ago? Surely he must +have known her for more than a day.</p> + +<p>Her bodice would have seemed to be shamelessly low, +had it not been as high as almost any other there. This +was one of those common yet amazing sessions where +thousands of women of every age and class agree to +display as much of their skins as the police will allow, +and far more than their husbands and fathers approve.</p> + +<p>But Forbes had not yet reached the stage where a man +resents the publication of his charmer's charms. He was +still hardly more than a fascinated student of Persis. He +found her a most engrossing text.</p> + +<p>She was so thoroughly alive—terribly alive all over! +Wordsworth's phrase would have suited Forbes' understanding +of her: she "felt her life in every limb." Her +brows now moved sinuously, and now relaxed as Isolde +sang of her longing and quenched the torch for a signal +to her lover. One moment Persis' eyelids throbbed with +excitement; the next they fell and tightened across her +eyes. Accesses of emotion swelled her nostrils and made +her lips waver together. Her throat arched and flexed +and was restless; and her lovely disparted bosom filled +and waned.</p> + +<p>If she sat with clasped hands, the fingers seemed to +convene and commune. She was incessantly thrusting +back her hair and stroking her temples, or her forearms. +Her knees were always exchanging places one above the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +other; her feet crossed, uncrossed, and seemed unable to +settle upon precedence.</p> + +<p>If she had been a child she would have been called +fidgety, but all her motions were discreet and luxurious. +She was like a lotos-eater stirring in sleep and just about +to open her eyes.</p> + +<p>The second act of the opera proved to be hardly more +than a prolonged duet. The rapture of it outlasted +Forbes' endurance; it did not bore him, it wore him out. +He grew weary of eavesdropping on these two. He was +jealous to love and be loved on his own account.</p> + +<p>The woman next him was becoming more beautiful +every moment. He felt a craving to touch her—with +reverence; to link arms in comradeship, and to clench +hands with her when the music stormed the peaks.</p> + +<p>An aura seemed to transpire mistily from his pores to +meet the aureole that shimmered about her.</p> + +<p>His mood was far above any thought of flirtation, or +evil desire. He was too knightly at heart to dream of +adventure against her sacred isolation. But he wished +and wished that he knew her better; had known her +longer. Unconsciously he plagiarized the sigh of Johanna +Ambrosius' poem: "<i>Ach, hätt' ich früher dich +geseh'n!</i>"</p> + +<p>But Fate can play the clown as well as the tragedian, +and accomplish as much by an absurd accident as by +elaborate glooms.</p> + +<p>That afternoon, when Forbes was lured into the haberdashery, +he had invested in black silk hosiery, very sheer +and very dear. Later he had acquired a pair of new +pumps. The shoes were not too small, but their rigid +edge cut his instep like a dull knife. By the time that +Isolde's husband had found her in Tristan's arms, and +begun to deplore his friend's treachery at great length, +the pressure upon Forbes' heart relaxed enough to let +his feet attract his attention. They proclaimed their discomfort +acutely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>After some hesitation he resolved to slip them out of +their glistening jails a moment, under cover of the darkness.</p> + +<p>A sense of immense relief rejoiced him when he sat +with his silk-stockinged feet perched on top of instead +of inside of his shoes. Though he was unaware of it, +he was not the only one in that box to seize the opportunity. +Heaven alone knew how much empty foot-gear +was scattered along the floors of that opera-house. Persis +for one had vacated her slippers long ago. She always +did at every opportunity.</p> + +<p>Eventually she tucked her little left foot back of her +and bent it round the leg of her chair. By and by Forbes, +in shifting his position, straightened his right knee. His +foot collided with a most smooth something, and paused +in a kind of surprise. Primevally our feet had as much +tactile intelligence as our hands, and Forbes' almost prehensile +big toe pondered that tiny promontory a second; +then it hastily explored the glossy surface of Persis' sole.</p> + +<p>Silk is a facile conductor of electricity, and Persis +was not divine enough to be above ticklishness. Shudders +of exquisite torment ran through her before she could +snatch her foot away. And before she could check the +impulse she snickered aloud.</p> + +<p>And Forbes, suddenly understanding what he had done, +snickered too, and just managed to throttle down a loud +guffaw.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff and Winifred turned in amazement at hearing +such a sound at such a time, and the women in the +next box craned their necks to inflict a punitive glare. +Which made it all the worse.</p> + +<p>Persis and Forbes were suddenly backslidden almost to +infancy. They were like a pair of children attacked with +a fit of giggles in church. The more they wanted to be +sober, the more foolish they felt. The harder they +tried to smother the laughter steaming within them, the +more it threatened to explode.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis would have taken to flight, but one of her slippers +she could not find, and she could not get the other on.</p> + +<p>She and Forbes were still stuffing their handkerchiefs +into their mouths when the act ended, as the pitifully +distraught Tristan permitted the infuriated Melot to +thrust him through with a sword, and fell back in Kurwenal's +arms.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff and her faction did not join the ovation to +the singers. They were too busily demanding what +Persis and Forbes had found to laugh at. But neither +of them would tell. It was their secret.</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee was acutely annoyed. He had not curiosity +enough to be quick to jealousy, nor intelligence enough +to suspect that Persis' and Forbes' laughter might be, +must be, due to some encounter.</p> + +<p>Still, he had ideals of his own, such as they were, and +his religion was to avoid attracting attention. He had +liked Persis because she was of the same faith; but +now she had sinned against it, and he rebuked her. She +did not flare up as usual. She laughed.</p> + +<p>She was ashamed to have been so frivolous, ashamed +to have profaned the temple of art with her childishness. +And so was Forbes. But when they looked into each +other's eyes now they no longer stared with timorous +wonderment; they smiled together in a dear and cozy +intimacy. And already they owned a secret.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">MRS. NEFF and Winifred may have had their suspicions. +They were both amiable cynics, and always +put the worst possible interpretation on any happening. +But whatever their theories, they could never have guessed +the actual reason for the contretemps, and Persis speedily +changed the subject. But her feet remembered it and +tingled with reminiscent little electric storms. And when +she looked at Forbes she tittered like a school-girl. So +she avoided his eyes.</p> + +<p>Willie was furious at Persis' lack of dignity, and forgot +his own in complaining of it.</p> + +<p>"Cut out the soubrette spasms, for God's sake, Persis, +or let us all in on the joke. If you have any comic +relief for this ghastly opera let me have it. Why did you +drag me here, anyway? We might have gone to Hammerstein's. +It wouldn't be so bad if Caruso were singing; +but Caruso knows better than to bark himself hoarse on +this Wagner fella. And that Dutch tenor has got to +die yet. He'll be two hours dying, and then the lady has +to follow suit. Why should we sit here all that time +watching people die? Why didn't we go to Bellevue +Hospital and watch an amusing operation? What would +you say to making a sneak just about now and—"</p> + +<p>"I'd say, run right along, Willie, if you want to," said +Persis. "<i>Moi, j'y suis, j'y reste!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right, I suppose I'll have to <i>suis</i> and <i>reste</i>, too. +But don't mind if I snore."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck appeared now with apologies for his delay. +And a number of callers knocked at the back door of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +box and were admitted to an informal little reception, +shared by the next-door neighbors, who gossiped across +the rail with a charming friendliness. These latter were +determined to find out what Persis had been laughing at. +But she shook her head mysteriously.</p> + +<p>Forbes heard great names bandied, and he judged that +he was meeting important people, but there were no introductions, +except in the case of a man and a woman who +were treated with deference. To these Ten Eyck presented +Forbes with flourish as an eminent military expert +called home from the Philippines to help fortify New +York against foreign attack.</p> + +<p>Forbes denied this violently, but Ten Eyck winked.</p> + +<p>"Diplomatic, eh?"</p> + +<p>When they were gone Forbes asked who they were.</p> + +<p>"Society reporters!" said Ten Eyck. And the next +day Forbes read in two of the papers a varying description +of the costumes of Persis, Winifred, and Mrs. Neff, +and a duplicated mention of his own name with the added +information that he was "the eminent military expert +called home from the Philippines to help fortify New +York against foreign attack."</p> + +<p>When he read this Forbes breathed a prayer that none +of his superior officers might be addicted to the social +columns.</p> + +<p>But that was to-morrow's excitement.</p> + +<p>The third act brought him back under the Wagnerian +yoke. Tristan's castle walls ran along a cliff overlooking +the ocean; in a green space under a tree the wounded +knight lay eternally demanding of his devoted squire if +he could not yet see the ship, the ship that was to bring +Isolde to nurse him back to life.</p> + +<p>Forbes forgot all light thoughts before the infinitely +pathetic wail of the shepherd's pipe and the reiterated +appeal of Tristan for "<i>das Schiff!</i> <i>das Schiff!</i>"</p> + +<p>Like most men of to-day, Forbes never wept except at +the theater, or at some other fiction. He had not wept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +so well since he had seen "Romeo and Juliet" played. +Now again, as then, it startled him to think what a genius +for love some hearts have, while others have only a talent +or a taste for it. He felt a little ashamed that he had +never been able to love as Romeo or Tristan loved, and +yet he thanked his stars that he had been spared that +fatal power.</p> + +<p>How often we thank our stars that we have never met +the very thing that waits us round the corner! Perhaps +that Pharisee who stands immortally thanking the Lord +that he was not as other men, found out the same afternoon +how very like he was.</p> + +<p>The thrall of the theater was so complete upon Forbes +that when the sorrowful drone of the shepherd's pipe suddenly +turned to joy at the sight of Isolde's ship, Forbes' +heart leaped up as if he were witnessing a rescue in actual +life.</p> + +<p>The hurrying rapture of the music that described +Isolde's arrival, and her haste up the cliff, sent his hopes +to heaven; but when the delirious Tristan rose from his +couch to his staggering feet and began to tear at the +bandages about his wound, Forbes felt the stab of fear. +He wanted to cry out, "Oh no! no!" He sat with lips +parted in anguish, and his hand groping for support.</p> + +<p>The left hand of Persis was reaching about in the same +gesture of protest against intolerable cruelty. It met +the hand of Forbes. Their fingers clutched each other in +an instinct for companionship. The two souls were so +intent upon the action of the scene, and so swept along by +the torrential music, that they hardly knew their hands +were joined.</p> + +<p>When Tristan fell at Isolde's feet, with one poor wailing +"Isolde!" and died before she could clasp him in her +arms, it seemed that Forbes' heart broke. A groan escaped +him; his hand clenched the hand of Persis with +all its might. He heard a little gasp from her, and he +thought that her heart had broken with his.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had bitten into one of the beautiful apples of Hades, +and his mouth was filled with ashes. The tears poured +down his cheeks, and in his aching throat there was a +lump like broken glass.</p> + +<p>The noblest song in all music, the "love-death" of +Isolde, gave the tragedy nobility; but it was the mad +beauty of a grief too great for grieving over. Passion shivered +in the air and seemed to come from Forbes' own soul. +The harmonies kept climaxing, eternally reaching the last +possible thrill, only to find that it led on to one yet higher. +The melodies were crowded like the angels climbing +Jacob's ladder into the clouds, where every rung seemed +heaven, till it disclosed one more.</p> + +<p>The music was a love-philter to Forbes and Persis; +they could not escape it, had no thought of escape. Their +hands swung in a little arc, clenched and unclenched in +an utter sympathy of mind and body, in a kind of epic +dance.</p> + +<p>And then the opera was over, and Forbes began to +dread the raising of the lights. He was grateful for the +long ovation to the singers, since it kept the house dark +till he could shake off the tears he was ashamed to dab +with a handkerchief. Time was when greater soldiers +than he were proud rather than ashamed of their tears, +but Forbes was thankful for the gloom. He applauded +and joined the cries of "Bravo!" to prolong the respite.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff was sniffling as she beat her gloves together.</p> + +<p>"Even Isolde's husband couldn't hate her—or him—for +a love like that."</p> + +<p>And Winifred, with her cheeks all blubbered, swallowed +hard as she applauded.</p> + +<p>"Why don't we have such lovers nowadays? Even I +could play Isolde if I could find a Tristan."</p> + +<p>"Permit me," said Bob Fielding. But he was referring +to the opera-cloak he was holding out for her.</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee, however, shook his head contemptuously +and made no pretense of applause.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can you beat 'em, Mr. Lord? They're never so happy +as when they're crying their make-up off. They pretend +they're blue, but they've been having the time of their +lives."</p> + +<p>And Forbes hated him for saying it. Then he noted that +Persis was not applauding. She was pulling off a long +glove slowly and wincingly. When it was off, she looked +ruefully at her left hand and nursed it in her right. She +glanced to see that the others were busy with their wraps, +then she held her hand out where Forbes could see it; +and gave him a look of pouting reproach.</p> + +<p>His first stare showed him only that her soft, slim +fingers were almost hidden with rings. And then he saw +that the flesh was all creased and bruised and marred +with marks like tiny teeth. He realized that it was his +fierce clench that had ground the rings and their settings +into her flesh, and his heart was wrung with shame and +pity.</p> + +<p>He saw, too, that on one of the little fingers there was +a thread of blood. The alert old eyes of Mrs. Neff caught +the by-play of the two, and her curiosity brought her forward +with a question.</p> + +<p>"How in heaven did you hurt your finger?"</p> + +<p>Persis answered quietly and at once:</p> + +<p>"I caught it on the thorn of a rose. It's nothing."</p> + +<p>Willie insisted on seeing the wound, and was frantic +with excitement. He was genuinely distressed. He +poured out sympathy for the pain, anxiety for the future +of the wound, the necessity for sterilizing it. But it was +Willie's doom to be always tactless or unwelcome, and +his sympathy was an annoyance.</p> + +<p>Forbes was compelled to silence by Persis' explanation +of the accident. He must not say how sorry he was, +though he had wounded her—he had wounded Persis till +she bled!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THERE was an atmosphere of mourning everywhere +as the enormous audience issued from the exits. It +had assisted at the obsequies of a tremendous love, and +all the eyes were sad.</p> + +<p>Forbes had seen it stated until he had come to believe +it, that the Metropolitan Opera was supported by snobs +who attended merely to show off their jewels, and that +the true music-lovers were to be found in the gallery. It +came upon him now that this is one of the many cheap +missiles poor people of poor wit hurl at luckier folk, with +no more discrimination than street Arabs show when +they throw whatever they can find in the street at whoever +passes by in better clothes.</p> + +<p>Forbes was sure that most of these sad-eyed aristocrats, +so lavish in their praise of the singers and the music and +the conductor, had come with a musical purpose, and he +wondered if some few, at least, of those in the gallery +might not have climbed thither less for art's sake than to +see in the flesh those people of whose goings and comings +and dressings, weddings and partings, they read so greedily +in the newspapers.</p> + +<p>During the long wait for the carriage, a wealthy rabble +stood in a draughty doorway waiting turns at the slowly +disintegrating army of limousines and landaulets and +touring-cars and taxicabs—even of obsolete broughams +and coaches drawn by four-legged anachronisms.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff claimed Forbes as her personal escort, and +carried him off in her own chariot, which rolled up long +before Enslee's.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes regretted to leave Persis standing there, with +throat open as usual to the night gale; but his consolation +was that he could gossip about her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff's first word, of course, was of tobacco. The +door was hardly slammed upon them before she had her +cigarettes out.</p> + +<p>"Give me a light, there's a dear boy. I've just time +for a puff. And you light your cigar; I know you're +dying for it. You can finish it in the cloak-room. You +men have still a few advantages left. The one I envy +you most is your right to smoke in public."</p> + +<p>It was strange to Forbes to be proffering a light to a +white-haired lady. His own mother had thought it almost +an escapade to sit on a piazza with a man who was +armed with a cigar. Years ago, when Forbes had come +home from West Point, she had said to him after dinner:</p> + +<p>"I reckon my boy is simply pe'ishing for a cigar. Of +course a gentleman can't smoke in the drawing-room, +and the odor never comes out of the curtains. But I +don't mind it in the open air—much. We'll stroll in the +garden. They say tobacco is good for the plants—bad +for the insects."</p> + +<p>And she took his arm and sauntered with him while he +ruined the scent of the honeysuckle vines.</p> + +<p>And Forbes had heard an anecdote, probably untrue, +of the great Mrs. Astor; according to this legend, a man, +hankering for a cigar, yet hesitating to suggest it, asked +her casually: "What would you say if a man asked you +for permission to smoke?" To which she answered, in +her stately way: "I don't know. No man ever asked +me." And neither did he.</p> + +<p>But nowadays a man rarely ever murmurs the formula: +"Do you object to smoke?" He is apter to say: "Do +you carry your own, or will you try mine?"</p> + +<p>The petite grande dame, Mrs. Neff, carried her own. +The glow of it in the dark seemed to add one more ruby +to her burdened fingers. And when she lost her light,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +she reached out for Forbes' cigar and rekindled her +cigarette, smiling:</p> + +<p>"Aren't we nice and clubby?"</p> + +<p>Once her weed was prospering, she began to puff gossip:</p> + +<p>"Isn't she a darling—Miss Cabot, I mean? Everybody +is crazy over her, but Willie scares 'em all off. What a +pity she's mixed up with the little bounder! Of course, +she needs a lot of money, and her It of a father is nearly +ready for the Old Ladies' Home; but what a shame that +love and money go together so rarely! For the matter of +that, though, I don't think Persis knows what love is—yet. +Maybe she never will. Maybe she won't learn till +it's too late. Murray Ten Eyck says you are rich. Why +don't you marry Persis? What a pair you'd make! +What children you'd have! They'd win a blue ribbon at +any stock-breeder's show."</p> + +<p>Forbes was much obliged to the dark for hiding his +blushes. Besides, he felt it a little premature to be discussing +the quality of his offspring. He made bold to +ask a leading question.</p> + +<p>"You say that Miss Cabot is mixed up hopelessly with +Mr. Enslee. Do you mean that they are engaged?"</p> + +<p>"They haven't announced it, of course, but it's generally +agreed that they are. Still, I suppose that if some +handsome devil came along with a million or two, he +might coax her away."</p> + +<p>"But they are not actually engaged?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. But it looks inevitable to me. If +you've got a lot of money, ask her—and save her from +Willie. She'd make a nice wife to a nice man, with a +nice income. Go on and get her. Oh, Lord, here we are +at Sherry's and I've got to throw my cigarette away. +I'll have to sneak another in the women's room somehow."</p> + +<p>They went through the revolving doors and into the +corridor, where women in opera-cloaks were moving forward +with something of the look of a spice caravan, some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +to the supper-rooms, and some toward the elevators to +the various assembly-rooms, where various coteries were +giving dances.</p> + +<p>The ways of Mrs. Neff and Forbes parted at the elevator's +upper door. His led to the large room where he +passed his hat and coat across a table to be stowed in a +compartment in one of the wicker wardrobes.</p> + +<p>While he waited for Mrs. Neff, he sauntered to and fro, +smoking and feeling a stranger among the men, who were +just beginning to collect. Forbes noted the callowness of +most of them, and felt himself a veteran among the +shiny-haired blonds and glistening brunettes pulling on +their white gloves, straightening their ties and trying, +some of them, to find mustache enough to pull.</p> + +<p>He could see the women they brought—girls and their +mothers, or aunts or something.</p> + +<p>After his experience at the restaurant dances, Forbes +had begun to wonder if New York's aristocracy had been +entirely converted to socialism, and had given over all +attempt at exclusiveness. Here at last he found selection. +People were here on invitation, and they were at +home—<i>chez eux</i>.</p> + +<p>If they went among the common herd, it was only as a +kind of slumming excursion, a sortie of the great folk from +the citadel into the town. It did not mean that the town +was invited to repay the visit at the castle.</p> + +<p>This was a dance at the castle. Everybody here seemed +to belong. There were no shop-girls, no pavement-nymphs, +or others of the self-supporting classes. These +women had been provided for by wealthy parents. They +had been provided with educations, and aseptic surroundings, +and sterilized amusements, and pure food of choicest +quality. Hence they all looked hale and thoroughbred. +And they were not discontent. They came with the +spirit of the dance.</p> + +<p>Yet there was variety enough in the unity. Girls of +intellectual type, girls of plain and old-maidish prospects,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +girls of prudish manner, wantons, athletes, flirts, and +uncontrollables. There were good taste and bad in costume, +simple little pink frocks and Sheban splendors, loud +voices and soft, meek eyes and insolent. But they were +all protected plants, not hothouse flowers, yet flowers +from high-walled, well-tended gardens.</p> + +<p>Inside the wall there was the pleasantest informality. +Everybody seemed to call everybody else by the first +name or by some nickname, and there were surprisingly +many old-fashioned "Jims" and "Bills," "Kates" and +"Sues." There was much hilarity, much slang, and the +women seemed to use the music-hall phrases even more +freely than the men.</p> + +<p>In the dances there was a deal of boisterous romping. +The turkey-trot, here called the one-step, was as vigorously +performed as in the restaurants, and some of the +highest born showed the most professional skill and +recklessness.</p> + +<p>While Forbes was waiting for Mrs. Neff, he saw Persis +arrive with her entourage. She was like the rest, yet ever +so different. In her there was the little more that meant +so much. She had, of course, the advantage of his affection. +Yet he could see that everybody else gave her a +certain prestige, too. It was "Oh, there she is!" "Look, +there's Persis!" "Hello, Persis, how darling of you to +come!"</p> + +<p>The fly in the ointment was Willie Enslee, preening +himself at her side, taking all her compliments for his +own, as if he were the proprietor of a prize-winning mare +at a horse-show. Forbes hated himself for hating him, +but could not help it. When Enslee left Persis and entered +the men's coat-room, Forbes' eyes followed him +balefully.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck happened to glance his way as he held out +his hand for his coat check. He noted the glare in +Forbes' eyes and followed their direction to Enslee. +He was so amazed, that when the attendant put the check<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +in his hand, he started as if some one had wakened him. +Then he went to Forbes and took him by the elbow. And +Forbes also started as if some one had wakened him. +Ten Eyck smiled sadly:</p> + +<p>"Is it as bad as that, already, old man?"</p> + +<p>"Is what as bad as what already?" Forbes answered, +half puzzled and half aware. Ten Eyck replied with a +riddle.</p> + +<p>"You can buy 'em for almost any price. It's the upkeep +that costs."</p> + +<p>"What the devil are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Yachts."</p> + +<p>"Yachts?"</p> + +<p>"Yachts. Better do as I do, Forbesy: instead of trying +to own and run one, cultivate the people who do; and +then you can cruise without expense."</p> + +<p>"What's that about yachts?" Willie Enslee asked, unexpectedly +at his elbow. Ten Eyck answered, blandly:</p> + +<p>"I was making the highly original remark that it's not +the initial expense—"</p> + +<p>"—But the up-keep that costs," Willie finished for +him. "And that's no joke, either. Thinking of buying +one, Mr. Forbes? Take my advice and don't! Gad, +that ferryboat of mine costs me twenty-five or thirty +thousand a year, and she's not in commission two months +in the season."</p> + +<p>Twenty-five thousand a year! The words clanged in +Forbes' mind like a locomotive's warning bell. He +would hardly earn so much in the next ten years. +He would certainly take Enslee's advice and not buy a +yacht. He was as ill-equipped for a contest with the Enslee +Estates as David was for the bout with Goliath. David +won, indeed; but he had only to kill the giant, not to +support him in the manner he had been accustomed to.</p> + +<p>What could Forbes offer a woman like Persis in place +of a yacht? He could offer her only love. His love +must be cruiser and automobile, town house and country<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +house, home and travel. Isolde had married the king +only to run away from his palace to the ruined castle of +the wounded knight. Perhaps this Isolde would take +warning and prefer the poor knight and his shabby castle +in the first place.</p> + +<p>As Forbes glanced down at Willie Enslee he could not +feel that even the Enslee millions could suffice to make the +fellow attractive. They certainly had not added a cubit +to his stature. Persis could not conceivably mate herself +for life to a peevish underling like him.</p> + +<p>Plainly Forbes needed only to be brave and persistent +and he would win her. Then Persis reappeared, and +looked to be a prize worth fighting for, at any hazard of +failure. There was a bevy of young women about her, +bright clouds around a new moon. They were all jeweled +to incandescence. On their fingers and wrists were rings +and bracelets whose prices Forbes could guess from his +inspection of shop-windows the day before. He could +not give such gifts.</p> + +<p>But he would not let anything chill him. He advanced +to Persis with as much cordiality as if he had not +seen her for years. Persis was too human to follow the +usual New York and London custom of avoiding introductions. +She presented Forbes to the galaxy with a +statement that he was a famous soldier (which brought +polite looks of respect), and a love of a tangoist (which +evoked gushes of enthusiasm).</p> + +<p>He had not caught a single name, and as the group +dispersed, each girl took even her face from his memory +as effectually as if it were a picture carried out of a room.</p> + +<p>This did not distress him at the time, for the orchestra +on the stage in the grand ballroom was busily at work.</p> + +<p>"The music is calling us," said Forbes. "May I have +the honor?"</p> + +<p>"I wish you might," Persis sighed, "but Willie would +be furious if I gave his dance away. And Mrs. Neff would +snatch me baldheaded if I kidnapped her <i>preux chevalier</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +I'm afraid she'll expect you to pay for your ride in her +car by a little honest work, won't she?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so. Of course she will," Forbes groaned, +ashamed of his oversight. "But the next one I may have?"</p> + +<p>"The next one is yours. Don't forget."</p> + +<p>"Forget!" He cast his eyes up in a look of horror at +the possibility. He hastened to Mrs. Neff, who was +just simmering to a boil. She forgot her pique with the +first sidewise stride. She tried to imagine herself young, +and Forbes tried to imagine her Persis.</p> + +<p>He passed Persis in the eddies again and again, and she +always had some amiable wireless greeting to flash across +the space. She was difficultly following the spasmodic +leadership of Willie, who puffed about her like a little +snubby tug conducting a graceful yacht out to sea.</p> + +<p>When the dance was done and the inevitable encore +responded to, Forbes tried to carry on a traffic of conversation +with his hostess; but he had only the faintest idea +of what she said or what he himself said—if anything. +His mind was lackeying Persis, who knew so many people +and was having so good a time. At the first squeak of +the next dance Forbes abandoned Mrs. Neff like an +Ariadne on a beach of chairs, and presented himself +open-armed before Persis.</p> + +<p>She slipped into his embrace as if she were mortised +there. The very concord of their bodies seemed an argument +for the union of their souls. They were as appropriate +to each other as the melodies of a perfect duet, +such a love-duet as Tristan and Isolde's.</p> + +<p>Once more Forbes was master of Persis; she followed +wherever he led. He could whirl her, dip her, sidle her, +lead or pursue her; and she obeyed his will as instantly +as if he were her owner. She did belong to him. How +could he ever give her up? And yet at the moment the +orchestra stopped he must let her go.</p> + +<p>The end of the dance was their divorce. He transferred +her into Bob Fielding's arms for a time, while he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +swung Winifred with as much rapture as he would have +taken from trundling a bureau around. Even Winifred's +surprising lightness of foot reminded Forbes of nothing +more poetic than casters.</p> + +<p>After this ordeal a strict sense of duty forced him to +dance with Mrs. Neff once more. And after her with an +anonymous sprig, to whom Mrs. Neff bequeathed him. +This girl was as young as Alice Neff, but loud of voice, +gawky, and awkward. Some day she would grow up +to herself and enter into her birthright of beauty. Now +she was neither chick nor pullet, but at the raw-boned, +pin-feathered stage between—just out from her mother's +wings. Her knees were carried so well forward that +Forbes could not avoid them. He came out of the dance +with both patellas bruised.</p> + +<p>And then, at last, he was free to tango with Persis again. +In the brief space of a few dances, he had held in his +clasp the young-old Mrs. Neff, the super-abundant charms +of Winifred, and the large-jointed frame of a young girl. +When Persis was his again the contrast was astonishing. +In these forms the cycle of the rose was complete; the +girl was the bud still clenched in its calyx; Winifred was +the flower too far expanded; Mrs. Neff the flower of +yesterday with the bloom gone from the petal and the +wrinkles in its place; but Persis! Persis was the rose at +its exact instant of perfection.</p> + +<p>At the close of the dance, the hour being somewhat +past midnight, supper was announced. Persis seized upon +one of the small tables, and stood guard over it while she +despatched Forbes to round up Mrs. Neff and Willie and +Bob and Winifred, and Ten Eyck and a débutante he +was rushing.</p> + +<p>Persis saw to it quite casually that Forbes sat close +to her; and that was very close, since the little clique +was crowded so snugly about the table, that half of those +who ate had to convey the food across the elbows and +knees of the others.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis sat with both elbows on the table, and raised her +bouillon cup with both hands. Her elbow touched that +of Forbes, and she did not draw it away. For the matter +of that, all the elbows were clashing in the crowded circle.</p> + +<p>It was now that Forbes was tempted to make his first +advance. How was he to marry her if he never made +love to her? How show his love except by some signal? +Before all those ears he could not speak his infatuation; +before all those eyes he could not seize her hand and +kiss it, or kneel, or push his arm around her.</p> + +<p>Under the table he might have held hands with her, +but she kept her hands above the board. Then, as she +leaned close to him to speak across him to Mrs. Neff, +her foot struck lightly against his. It was gone at once, +but it suggested to his mind an ancient form of flirtation +that has been more honored in modern observance than +in modern literature. Remembering the experience at +the Opera House, he was visited with a tender temptation +to renew that acquaintance of feet.</p> + +<p>He gathered his courage together, as if he were about +to step off a precipice into a fog, and pursued her foot +with his. He found it, but at a touch it vanished again. +Realizing that she took his silly action for an accident, +he determined to see the adventure through. He sent +his foot prowling after hers, found it, and raising his toe, +pressed hers softly.</p> + +<p>This time her foot was not withdrawn, and he felt that +his emprise was rewarded. But a moment later, when +every one's attention was attracted to another table, +and the rest were discussing a prematurely fashionable +costume, Persis leaned close to him and murmured:</p> + +<p>"In the first place, how dare you? In the second place, +I have on white slippers. And in the third place, you +are perfectly visible from all the other tables."</p> + +<p>And then she slipped her foot away. It was as if she +had unclasped his arms from about her waist, only not so +hallowed a precedent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes turned pale with shame. He felt that his deed +was boorish, and now it had been properly rebuked and +resented. The gentleness of the reproof made it the +more galling; for it was the gentleness of authority so +sure of itself that it needed no clamor of assertion. Another +woman might have been, or pretended to be, furious +at an insult; a flirt might have rebuked him only to encourage +and tease him on; a vixen might have dug her +other heel into his instep and forced her release.</p> + +<p>But Persis was sophisticated enough not to set her protest +in italics. She was probably used to such suggestions. +It hurt Forbes' pride to feel that he was not the first +man she had rebuffed for this. He had loved her and +longed to tell her his secret secretly, and had merely +apprised her that he was a blundering bumpkin. She +had shamed him yet spared him open disgrace. She had +made him respect her intelligence and her tact.</p> + +<p>He gnawed his lip with remorse; but his apologies were +frustrated by the return of all hands to the table. Persis +chattered with the rest and nibbled a marron with an +apparent relish that implied forgetfulness of what was +only an incident to her.</p> + +<p>Forbes was learning what Persis was, by all these little +tests, as a general studies the enemy's strength and disposition, +by trying the line at all points. If he finds the +pickets always alert, his respect increases the more he is +baffled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">AFTER the supper no time was lost in returning to +the main business of the meeting. Again Willie +claimed the first dance, and Forbes was deputed to Ten +Eyck's débutante. The next dance, however, brought +him back to Persis. He had asked for it, uneasily, and +she had granted it with an amiable "Of course."</p> + +<p>The moment they were safely lost in the vortex he began +to make amends. While he was strutting his proudest +through the tango, he was stammering the humblest +apologies.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't let that worry you," she answered. "I +suppose all men believe they have to do that sort of +thing to entertain us. Poor fellows, you think we women +expect it of you. Some of us do, I suppose; but I don't +like it. And it doesn't seem quite what I had expected +of you."</p> + +<p>He got a little comfort from the thought that she had +taken the trouble, at least, to form an opinion of him. +But mainly he admired her for the continued good sportsmanship +of her attitude. There was a kind of manliness +about it, as if one gentleman should say to another:</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, but you are trespassing on my property. +It was a natural mistake, but I thought you'd like to +know my boundary line."</p> + +<p>And yet something was gone from her warmth. She +danced with him, chatted, laughed. But a chill was upon +her. That little bloom of tenderness that had softened +her words as the down velvets the peach, had vanished. +Frost had nipped the firstling of spring.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes was infinitely repentant, rebuffed, but not +routed. He began once more to scout along her outposts.</p> + +<p>"That hat you wore, you remember, day before yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I told you how I followed it."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"My heart ran after you like a newsboy calling to you. +But you didn't hear."</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry!"</p> + +<p>"All of a sudden you spoke to your driver, and he put +on full speed up the Avenue, as if you were in a great +hurry. I had a funny idea that you might be making +haste to meet some man."</p> + +<p>"Let me see! Yes, I was. I was hurrying home to +meet Willie. He is always furious when I am late."</p> + +<p>This time the name of Enslee was like a blow in the +face. It dazed Forbes with a confirmation of his worst +fears. He did not realize that he thought aloud:</p> + +<p>"I guessed right! I knew it was a man, and I was +jealous."</p> + +<p>Persis stared up at him. She smiled incredulously.</p> + +<p>"You were jealous? But you hadn't even seen me."</p> + +<p>"No, but I wanted to see you. I felt you in the air. +And I was jealous."</p> + +<p>His eyes were laughing into her laughing eyes. But +both of them were a trifle solemn at heart. Forbes determined +to learn how her affairs stood with Enslee. He +could never have found the temerity to demand the information +if the music had not flared with such dare-deviltry.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind if I asked you one very personal +question?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Not if you'll look the other way when I answer it."</p> + +<p>"Are you engaged to Willie Enslee?"</p> + +<p>The question was so unexpected and so forthright that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +it almost staggered her. She flashed one look up into +his earnest eyes and laughed; but it was a cold laugh.</p> + +<p>"You are the most amazing piece of impudence I ever +met."</p> + +<p>"You haven't answered."</p> + +<p>"What difference could it make to you?"</p> + +<p>"All the difference in the world. It is a matter of the +utmost importance to me."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because if you are not—" The music was the most +inconsequential jig, and their feet were frolic, but his voice +was solemn as a prayer. "If you are not, I want to—to +tell you that you have—you are—that—well, my heart +is at your feet."</p> + +<p>"Watch out, then, for I can't see my feet, and my +heels are sharp."</p> + +<p>"Won't you be serious?"</p> + +<p>"You are the frivolous one. You've only just met me; +you don't know anything about me, nor I about you, yet +you talk this talk."</p> + +<p>"I've known you long enough to know that you are—"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, you haven't. You've only seen me with my +party manners on."</p> + +<p>"But you—you—oh, I can't talk to this music. Will +you sit down a moment somewhere?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. I came here to dance, and I wish you +would stick to your knitting."</p> + +<p>"You haven't answered my question. Are you engaged +to that man?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, so he is 'that man' already?"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to marry him?"</p> + +<p>"I'm no prophet, Mr. Forbes."</p> + +<p>The medley broke into the ribald tune of a popular +song: a woman's celebration of the generosity of her keeper +whom she called "Daddy," and who always brought +her gifts. The refrain was a disgustingly irresistible +hilarity: "Here comes my Daddy now, Pop, oh, Pop,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +oh Pop!" Half the dancers shouted the refrain as they +whirled.</p> + +<p>Forbes' heart selected from the sordid lyric only its +rejoicing. He selected from Persis' words only the hope +they negatively implied. He began to dance in a frenzy, +locking knee to knee, whipping her off her feet, and clenching +her sweet body so close to him that she gasped:</p> + +<p>"I have to breathe, you know."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he murmured into the curls about her +ear. "But you're a wonderful thing!"</p> + +<p>"Am I?" she laughed, but with a sort of patient indifference.</p> + +<p>"I'm mad about you."</p> + +<p>"Are you?"</p> + +<p>"I wish I dared to tell you that I love you."</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't."</p> + +<p>"Men are always telling you that?"</p> + +<p>"No—not always—once or twice." She was so far +away, though in his arms, that her voice seemed to come +to him across a long wire.</p> + +<p>"Did you love any of them?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing I'm surer of than that."</p> + +<p>"Does that mean that you are not engaged to Mr. +Enslee?"</p> + +<p>She laughed again.</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORGIVENESS and garters lose their snap when +they are stretched too often. Once before Forbes +had apologized to Persis for an excess of enthusiasm, and +her forgiveness had brought back her cordiality with perfect +elasticity. The second time there had been a slight +sag.</p> + +<p>The boundary between the impertinence of a cad and +the privilege of a suitor is vague and wavering. The act +that is accepted as a manifestation of devotion, a pretty +caress, from the accepted lover becomes a liberty from +the libertine. In his ardor Forbes had overstepped the +dead-line.</p> + +<p>There was no especial reason why the pressure of foot +upon foot should be a less poetic tribute than a lingering +clasp of the hands. But thinking makes it so, and when +Forbes put his best foot forward, Persis resented it as a +familiarity, an affront. It meant in her eyes that he held +her cheap and easy. It was like her to be less angry +with him than with herself. She reasoned that if a man +she had just met could so speedily rate her so low, there +must be some appalling fault in her manner. Her self-confidence +was shaken.</p> + +<p>But just as she had set Forbes in the category of men +with whom a woman must be on her guard, he spoke of +being jealous of her, and his very eyes and the flush on +his cheeks shouted that he meant it.</p> + +<p>There is, perhaps, no other tribute a woman prizes so +highly as jealousy. Other tokens of esteem may be silver, +gilt, or plated ware, but jealousy is the hallmark of sincerity; +jealousy is at least eighteen karats fine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>The moment Forbes said he had been jealous, and by +his eager questions, by their very insistent impertinence, +indeed, proved that he was now jealous, he became important +to Persis. The fervor of his previous actions was +almost justified. Even the intrusion upon her foot was +a different act.</p> + +<p>Women usually think that love excuses almost everything, +and sanctifies what were else ridiculous or disgusting. +They absolve the sinner who can plead, "I was in +love," more easily than the self-righteous abstainer.</p> + +<p>Besides, there was something uncanny to Persis in +Forbes' statement that he had followed her up the +Avenue, and had felt a jealousy of her haste; because +that had been a momentous day altogether.</p> + +<p>She had begun it by a shopping raid. She had run +across a flock of new hats, curious oddities from Paris, +perched like strange birds alighted in a window. They +pulled down so far on one side that they blinded one eye +of the wearer, and they thrust out so far to the rear and +the side that they blinded the passer-by.</p> + +<p>As she was trying one of them on, she turned her head +to speak to the rhapsodical manager. She swept the face +of the saleswoman till she sneezed; and when Persis +turned to apologize to the saleswoman, the manager found +himself inhaling exotic goura. It was fascinating. She +simply must have some of these hats.</p> + +<p>But there had been a very polite note with her last +bill, a timid plea that she pay a trifle on the venerable +debt. She hardly dared increase the sum instead of +diminishing it. She decided to ask her father's help. +The price was beyond her own private bank-account, +which was usually chaotically overdrawn, and which the +bank carried along with an amused patience, because her +father was one of its oldest customers.</p> + +<p>Determined to have those hats that day or die, Persis +had ridden all the way to her father's office in Broad +Street to ask him to buy them. She had found him in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +great distress. Before she could explain her errand, he +had said, with a smile that was pitifully brave:</p> + +<p>"I needn't ask what evil motive brings you down here. +It was just to tell your old father how much you love +him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; you know how I worship you." She +sat on the arm of his chair with a smile as alluring as a +mining-stock prospectus. "Also, I thought you'd like +to know that I've struck the most wonderful hats ever +imported. They're marked down to almost nothing, and +they're really an amazing bargain—especially when you +deduct the cost of an ocean voyage, for I couldn't equal +them this side of Paris."</p> + +<p>He shook his head with a helpless finality that gave +her pause. This terrified her. He had refused her something! +She knew that the only things that would prevent +him from giving her money were absence of funds +and inability to borrow them. He explained, tenderly:</p> + +<p>"I'm in a lot of trouble, honey. I've got to shift some +of my loans to other banks, and I've got to borrow a lot +more somewhere. And I don't know where. I'm sorry +to tell you, but you'd better know."</p> + +<p>She soothed him with loving terror. She told him how +little she really cared for the hats; she wanted them only +because everybody else had them. The hat she had on +would do for a while. It had been so far in advance +when she bought it that it was quite good style now—not +the very latest, of course, but still good enough since +he was feeling poor.</p> + +<p>He told her that she need not worry; everything would +come out all right. He was just a little pinched for the +moment. But he kissed her very devoutly, and sighed +and told her how beautiful she was and how dear to him.</p> + +<p>She returned to her car, and ordered the driver home. +It was a long journey up the cañon of Broadway, a plank +road for miles, since a subway was burrowing underneath. +She had ample time to figure out just what it meant to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +her to be poor. They had been pinched before. Her +father was the fourth generation of wealth, and the inheritance +of financial genius was wearing out in the +family.</p> + +<p>Cold flashes of fright ran through Persis as the car +rumbled and swerved. Then she remembered that Willie +Enslee was to call upon her that afternoon. He had said +that he had something very important to say, and she +had laughed inly, knowing just what he meant. He was +so ridiculous in his love. But now she thought of him +as a salvation. She resolved to be sensible and cut the +silly romance out of her hopes. She could save her father, +and have all the hats in the world. She must not keep +Willie waiting. He might not wait. It was in this mood +that Forbes had first seen her and her old hat from the +bus.</p> + +<p>At home she had found Willie. As she walked into the +drawing-room he was pacing up and down rehearsing his +proposal in whispers. He went into a blue funk at the +sight of her, and she had the greatest difficulty in coaxing +him to propose. Then she accepted him with proper +surprise.</p> + +<p>Willie had brought the ring—a wonderful composition +by René Lalique. Fashion had changed enough to permit +an engagement ring to be something besides a solitaire +diamond. This poem in gold had cost him more than +Forbes' salary for two years. Persis had worn it when +she met Forbes that same night at the theater. She had +worn it when she taught him to turkey-trot. It was the +edge of that ring that had cut her finger till it bled under +the fierce grip of Forbes' hand at the performance of +"Tristan and Isolde."</p> + +<p>Thoughts like this danced through Persis' mind now, +while her body danced in Forbes' arms. And Forbes +was talking of his jealousy!</p> + +<p>Forbes was different from Willie in so many ways. He +could be loved. She did not love him now. But he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +of the type that women love. She wondered, rather helplessly, +if she were going to love him. She certainly could +never love Willie, and no woman wants to die without +loving somebody.</p> + +<p>She would not be indiscreet, of course, or disloyal in +any important way. But—After all, she might not marry +Willie. She might marry Mr. Forbes. All things were +possible. Why not this? He would be a husband worth +having—a soldier, a gentleman, a lover, distinguished—nobody +would laugh if she went up the aisle with +him.</p> + +<p>Luckily Forbes had money. He was surely not so rich +as Willie. But then Persis was not mercenary. She +wanted only a reasonable amount—just enough to keep +up with the procession, have a fresh hat now and then, +and some gowns and a contemporary car, and a place in +town and a place out of town, and enough to go abroad +on every summer, and South every winter, and a few +things like that. Surely Mr. Forbes must have enough +money for such a simple household.</p> + +<p>Of course, she would not marry him, and it might +be dangerous to play with fire; but it would be pitiful +never to go near the fire. Worse, it would be pusillanimous. +Now that she had accepted Willie, it was certain +that she was not to have love in her life unless she took +it outside.</p> + +<p>Not all of this Cubist chaos of meditation went on during +the brief remainder of the dance. But it began there, +and it was small wonder if the logic had a little rag-time +in it; as for instance:</p> + +<p>Since Persis and Willie had agreed not to announce +their engagement just yet, this justified lying to a lot of +people; for one surely had a right to evade a question +that nobody had a right to ask. Of course, if Forbes were +really in love with Persis he had a right to ask. But if +she told him, then he would stop loving her; at least he +would stop seeing her. She knew the man. And she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +didn't want him to stop seeing her. He was really very +nice!</p> + +<p>He was a box of matches. She would not strike a light. +Or perhaps she might strike one; but she would let it +burn only a moment, and then blow it out and not light +another. Besides, she was not an official fiancee till it +was announced. And Mr. Forbes danced so wonderfully—oh, +Lord, it was a sad world. Yet it was very +comfortable, dancing in this man's arms.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile he was pounding at the door of her heart +again:</p> + +<p>"Are you going to ride in Central Park to-morrow—this +morning?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Rain or shine?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"May I ride there, too?"</p> + +<p>"It's not my park."</p> + +<p>"That's not very encouraging."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it? Well, haven't you been a trifle discouraging +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I'm terribly sorry," he pleaded; and she surprised +him by sighing:</p> + +<p>"I'm rather glad."</p> + +<p>"Glad? Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I had come dangerously near to feeling that +you were—different."</p> + +<p>"I am," he cried, stung by the deep significance of +her light regret. "Please let me prove it. Please let me +ride with you in the park?"</p> + +<p>"I'll be with my father, you know," she answered, with +a trace of relentment. "It's my only chance to visit with +the poor old boy. You'd better not."</p> + +<p>"But some day you will ride with me?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow may I stand on the bridge and watch you +go by?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The park is open to the public at all hours."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind if I got a horse and rode by and said +'Good morning!'"</p> + +<p>"Fine. Come along. I'll introduce you to my father."</p> + +<p>"I'll be there!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS had not misjudged Forbes. If she had told +him then that she was another man's betrothed, he +would have changed his whole attitude toward her. He +would have flirted with her no more. He would have +ceased to regard her with ambition or desire. She would +have become again only another piece of jewelry in a +shop-window—beautiful, but not for him; beautiful, but +already bespoken. He was not of the covetous and burglarious +type that always wants other people's property.</p> + +<p>Equally, the romance would have ended before it began +if Forbes had told Persis that he was not rich, as Ten Eyck +had carelessly assumed.</p> + +<p>Persis might have liked him and admired him and +been great friends with him; but she would not have +admitted him to the anteroom that all hearts have +where those eligible to the inner soul are first admitted +to wait their time.</p> + +<p>Persis did not make a test of money any more than +the rest of her set did. Many enormously wealthy +strugglers were wasting coin and labor in a vain effort +to bribe a smile from these really unimportant persons. +Many poor artists, actors, authors, town wits, were welcomed +to their boon companionship. These latter paid +their way by bringing along their charm or notoriety as +their contribution to the picnic. But they rarely married +into the set.</p> + +<p>In spite of all the talk of snobbery and wealth-worship, +it is really very simple. People are people, and classes are +merely clubs where more or less congenial neighbors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +coagulate, more or less haphazard. Those that cannot pay +the dues drop into other clubs. Even labor-unions are +run in that way.</p> + +<p>And in classes as well as in clubs two kinds of persons +are most offensive: those who try to force their way +in unsolicited, and those who do not keep up their end +of the expenses. The social struggler and the man who +never stands treat when it comes his turn are welcome +nowhere, from the slums up.</p> + +<p>Some such thought as this came by coincidence into +Forbes' mind. He realized suddenly that he was accepting +a deal of hospitality and repaying none. He +knew that he could do nothing to dazzle these people, +but he could not endure to take their favors as charities +or tips. He was wondering vaguely just what he could +do when the problem was solved for him.</p> + +<p>He was resolved not to relinquish what he had gained +in Persis' esteem. He would cling to her, keep at her +heels, till the chance came to prove how dear he held her.</p> + +<p>He had dropped the question of her betrothal to Enslee, +sure that it was a paradox. Now he realized that he +had no further promise of meeting Persis except on horseback +and with her father alongside. He put forth an +antenna.</p> + +<p>"Am I ever going to see you again?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be at all surprised," she answered, blowing +neither cold nor hot.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll probably be dancing at some tea-place or +other, as usual."</p> + +<p>"Don't you ever stop dancing?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Could I see you one of those times?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"When?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, almost any time."</p> + +<p>"Any time is no time."</p> + +<p>"I haven't my engagement-book here. I can't remember."</p> + +<p>He was hoping that she would ask him to call, but she +failed to take the hook. He surprised himself by saying +with an abrupt rashness:</p> + +<p>"Will you take lunch with me to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>He had a vision of a charming little hour alone with +her in the solitude made by a crowd. She missed the +point, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you mean all of us?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I do. I reckon I wouldn't dare ask you +alone."</p> + +<p>"I reckon you betta hadn't," she said, mocking his accent +as best she could.</p> + +<p>"When will you-all come?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it would be right smart of a job to get us-all +together at the same time."</p> + +<p>He smiled at her burlesque, but persisted:</p> + +<p>"How would you like to—to give the party and order +the fodder? I'm just back from the Philippines, you +know. I could get up a mess for my company, but I'm +afraid I couldn't feed you people to your liking."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nobody eats anything any more, or drinks much +of anything."</p> + +<p>"All the more reason for having what you do have +right. Won't you order it for me, and tell me where to +have it?"</p> + +<p>She was tempted to seize the chance. It was a delight +to her to compose a meal. It was a kind of millinery or +dressmaking in its art of arrangement. She checked herself +on the brink of acceptance, realizing that it would set +people to talking if she conducted Forbes' entertainments +for him. Even Willie, who was neither very observing +nor very jealous, would raise a row at that.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," she said. "Ask Mrs. Neff to be the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +hostess. You're under some obligations to her, and none +to me."</p> + +<p>"May I ask her to order the luncheon, too?" said +Forbes, with dwindled enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; you must do that!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't know what to have."</p> + +<p>"It's the simplest thing in the world. Just go to the +Ritz-Carlton and ask for Fernand. Tell him I'm coming, +and I said for him to take good care of you—of us. And +now let's see who can come."</p> + +<p>She strolled about with him while he made his invitations. +Everybody had engagements of various sorts, +but they were brittle. Mrs. Neff was flattered immeasurably, +and asked if she could bring Alice along. She +was afraid to leave her lest she connive with Stowe Webb +at some escapade. Bob Fielding could not come so far +up-town from his office, and Winifred could be present +only if she were permitted to be late.</p> + +<p>"I'm not allowed to eat anything, anyway," she +moaned, "except a little dried toast and some lemon-juice; +and the waiters treat me like a dog. But I'll be there if +you'll protect me."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck had planned to run down to Piping Rock, +but he would not desert Forbes in his hour of peril. Willie +had an important engagement with one of the executors +of his father's estate, but he quickly shifted it when he +found that Persis was to be present. This made seven +all told, four women and three men.</p> + +<p>"I could get more if you want," said Persis; "but seven +is lucky, and more is no fun."</p> + +<p>"Seven is just right," said Forbes, with a little premonitory +chill at the thought of the probable cost.</p> + +<p>It was finally agreed that they were to lunch late, take +a little spin round town, and then turkey-trot again in +the afternoon.</p> + +<p>Forbes was amazed at himself. Now he was to play +the host, and Persis was to be at his elbow! Or should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +he put her opposite him, as if she were his wife? What a +decoration she would be at a man's home table!</p> + +<p>The word "home" took a new timbre in his soul. +Hitherto home had meant the tall, white columns and +broad lawns where his mother lived. Now it began to +mean almost any place—soldiers' quarters, hotel—any +place where Persis would rest awhile. Even the humming-bird +has a nest to go to when its wings are tired. +Some day Persis must nest, too. Her wings could not +beat on forever.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THERE had come to be more and more room on the +floor as the crowd dispersed slowly. Many of the +young owls were by daylight bank-clerks and office assistants, +learning their father's trades of money. They +were remembering that they must be up betimes in the +morning. They had been campaigning all winter on +short rations of sleep. If they made up lost slumber anywhere, +it was at their desks, to which nothing but a spanking +cold bath could have roused them day after day.</p> + +<p>They were glad now when their demoiselles confessed +to fatigue, too, or the mothers began to mention the hour.</p> + +<p>Even Mrs. Neff was a trifle groggy. The poor old soul +was trying hard to keep from confessing how tired and +sleepy she was. She kept herself young by pretending +to be young, and her motto was, "A woman is just as old +as she says she is." Though, for the matter of that, if +her statement of her age had been correct, her eldest son +must have been born before she was; and Alice would have +come along when her mother was about eight years old.</p> + +<p>Persis was growing drowsy-eyed, too, and heavy-limbed, +with an almost voluptuous longing for sleep. She +drooped like a flower at sunset. She ceased to smuggle her +yawns as sighs, and once or twice she forgot to lift her +hand to hide them.</p> + +<p>Forbes was so infatuated that he admired even her +yawns. He wanted to whisper over her round shoulder, +"How pretty you are when you are a sleepy-head!" But +he had been lessoned enough for one evening.</p> + +<p>At last, however, she gave up the effort to go on danc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>ing +forever. She inquired for Willie. He was not to be +seen. Ten Eyck went exploring, and found him in retirement +clutching a big highball glass with his little raccoon-like +fingers, and blinking his little raccoon-like eyes. +He was of a surly trend in his cups, but Ten Eyck was +angelically patient as he lugged him to the coat-room. +Forbes was horrified at the thought of Persis under such +escort; but she seemed to ignore Willie's temper, and +Forbes dared not intervene.</p> + +<p>However, as they were all waiting on the curb in the +fresh auroral air, while the starter whistled up their cars, +he ventured a chance to murmur to Persis:</p> + +<p>"I beg you to go home and sleep till noon. Please +don't try to get up and ride in the morning."</p> + +<p>"I must," she answered. "It's the one duty I do."</p> + +<p>But the note of protecting solicitude in his voice had +touched her. She turned softer eyes upon him and +smiled.</p> + +<p>"We'll dance some more to-morrow afternoon. Till +then, <i>au revoir</i>."</p> + +<p>"But I am to <i>revoir</i> you in the park in a few hours?"</p> + +<p>"So you say."</p> + +<p>"Also at luncheon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"Persis, are you never c-coming?" Willie Enslee hiccoughed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, pet," she laughed, ironically, and nodded again +to Forbes. Forbes winced at the endearment she gave +Enslee, even though he felt it to be sarcastic. He winced +again as Enslee took her white elbow in his white glove +and made a fumbling effort to help her in. The white +fleece she was vanished into his dark car like a moon slipping +into clouds.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck boosted Willie in and clambered after him +"as a chaperon."</p> + +<p>Bob Fielding and Winifred tested the capacity of a +taxicab, and Forbes stood ready to escort Mrs. Neff<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +home in her own car; but she shook her head as she +gaped:</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! I'll not be so cruel. You've done enough +for me. You go on back to your hotel and get to bed. +But first wait—oh wait—have you a box of matches you can +give me? Thanks! You've saved my life. Good night."</p> + +<p>Forbes paused to say: "Does the chauffeur know you +want to go home?"</p> + +<p>"I should hope so, at this hour!"</p> + +<p>Forbes closed the door with an apology and set out to +walk to his hotel. It was only a few blocks away, but it +seemed a hundred miles. And he yawned so ferociously +that he feared for the buildings. He found the scrubwomen +agonizing again on their knees across the lobby +floor. He was too drowsy to feel sorry for them, or to +remember to leave a call for six o'clock at the desk, as +he had planned.</p> + +<p>He plucked off his clothes in a stupor, and slid straight +into the abyss of sleep as he shoved his dance-weary toes +down into the sheets. At five the imaginary reveille +woke him for a moment. He simply came up to consciousness +like a diver gulping a breath, and was underneath +again at once. He dreamed that he was riding in +the park and, catching sight of a saddle-horse in a tantrum, +galloped forward to find that Persis was the rider. +She was having a desperate battle with the frothing beast +and was about to be thrown off. But Forbes, outstripping +two or three mounted policemen, swept alongside +and caught her from her saddle to his pommel. Her +father, whose own horse was plunging, was so grateful +that he presented Forbes with Persis' hand. A mounted +clergyman chanced to be cantering by, and he was recruited +to perform the ceremony, with the mounted +policemen as bridesmaid and best man. By one of those +splendid coincidences in which dreams are so fertile, a +thicket of trees proved to be a pipe-organ, and began to +blare a popular tune of Mr. Mendelssohn's. The noise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +woke Forbes, and to his unspeakable disappointment he +found himself in a bachelor bed at a hotel, with Times +Square furnishing a roaring offertory.</p> + +<p>Automatically he reached for his watch, wondering if +he could not have a little further nap to get back into +that dream without delay.</p> + +<p>But the dial blandly informed him that it wanted a +few minutes to noon. Horror shocked him wide awake.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">HE leaped from his hateful couch, swearing at himself +like an army teamster. He stumbled to the telephone +and curtly demanded the exact time, hoping to +prove his watch a liar. Back from space came the reply: +"K'reck time is 'le'm fifty-eight."</p> + +<p>His "Thanks!" had almost the effect of an oath. He +slammed the innocent receiver on the hook and stood +staring at the bare feet protruding from his indolent +pajamas, where there should have been puttees and +spurs and smartly flaring riding-breeches. He was doubly +indignant with himself because he had counted upon that +morning galopade. He rode like a centaur, though with +the military and not the park seat, and he had expected +his horsemanship to commend him to Persis.</p> + +<p>He wondered what he should do. He reversed Sancho +Panza and cursed the man that invented sleep. He +formed a wild project to fling into his things, leap to horse, +and hunt the park through. But he had not yet bespoken +the horse, and he knew that Persis must have finished +her ride hours ago, doffed her boyish togs, cold-showered +her glowing body, and put on whatever finery her engagements +required. She had probably spent the irretrievable +hours at a committee meeting of some society for rescuing +working-girls from work. And her father had probably +earned or lost a million while Forbes lay annulled in a +coma of stupidity.</p> + +<p>How should he apologize? He could not wait till he +saw her. The offense must be erased before it set. He +must call her up instantly. He ransacked the dangling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +telephone-tome. Her father's office was mentioned, but +not his residence. Yet he must have a residence, and it +must have a telephone.</p> + +<p>Forbes banged the hook and demanded "Information," +and when that mysterious dame answered from her airy +throne he besought her to give him at once the number.</p> + +<p>Information answered with a lilt as if the name of Persis +were one of importance:</p> + +<p>"I think it's a private wire; I'll see."</p> + +<p>While Forbes waited he was interrupted, incessantly +cut off, restored to the wrong number, helplessly forced +into other people's personal chats, and left dangling in +empty space. When at length he retrieved Information, +she told him:</p> + +<p>"Jus' z'I thought, 's a priva twire."</p> + +<p>"Of course it's a private wire!" Forbes thundered. "I +don't want to have a public conversation. What's the +number?"</p> + +<p>"'S 'gainst comp'ny rules to give numbers listed as +private. Sorry."</p> + +<p>"But this is a matter of life and death."</p> + +<p>There was an almost audible sigh, as if she had heard +that before.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, but under no soic'mstances are we p'mitted +to give numbers of parties listed private."</p> + +<p>He insisted, pleaded, threatened; but she answered +with implacable politeness. "Sorry, but—"</p> + +<p>At length he screwed his courage to the point of calling +up the office of her father. Here he learned only that +Mr. Cabot had left the office, and it was contrary to orders +to give his house number.</p> + +<p>After beating his head and hands vainly for a long +time against those walls that New-Yorkers have to build +about themselves if they are ever to know seclusion, +Forbes remembered Ten Eyck and called up his house. +He was not at home, and his whereabouts were unknown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>A deferential, yet stately voice with the indescribable +tone of a butler or a valet advised "Mr. Forbes, ah, yes," +to try various clubs; "The Racquet or the Brook, possibly," +or "I believe I heard him say" (the two h's were +hazy) "that he was to be at the Metropolitan at one. +If you could call him then, sir, I'm quite sure you'd—Not +at all! Very good, sir."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck could give him Persis' occult number; then +he could send a note and some flowers to plead for him +and appease her wrath before they met at the luncheon. +When they met no time must be wasted in more apologies.</p> + +<p>But Ten Eyck was not to be found anywhere. Forbes +gave up. He telephoned for "coffee and rolls and a +morning paper in a powerful hurry," and stormed into +his bathroom. When he came out as sparsely dressed as +most of the gentlemen are in the advertising pages of the +magazines, he found his breakfast on a little half-table +mysteriously apported.</p> + +<p>While he danced into his trousers his eyes were caught +by head-lines on the paper folded at his plate:</p> + +<p>"Mayor puts Lid on <i>Thés Dansants</i>."</p> + +<p>Forbes seized the paper, flung himself into a chair, +and read with violence the dire news that the same mayor +who had ordered people to quit dancing at one now ordered +them not to begin dancing before dinner. He grew +hot with rage, while his coffee cooled and his rolls brittled. +He had found the dancing-tea a delightful institution, a +joyous democracy. But, according to the scathing indictment +of the mayor and the adroit wording of the reporters, +the tea-dance was a home-wrecking, youth-defiling +abomination, only the more dreadful because it +wrought its hellish purposes in the broad daylight.</p> + +<p>According to the newspaper account of a typical dancing-tea, +it was apparent that Forbes had failed to grasp +the depravity of the crowd he had been dancing with; it +seemed that the women were all fat fiends pursuing immature +school-girls, and the men all evil-eyed brokers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +whose corpulence alone was proof enough of their wickedness.</p> + +<p>Forbes stared aghast at a wholesale condemnation that +must include Mrs. Neff, Persis, Winifred, Alice, and the +respectable rest. He had not yet learned that certain +journalists are mere newsboys always beating out of their +dreadnaught typewriters cries of "Extra! Extra! All +about the turrible moider!"</p> + +<p>Forbes was dumfounded to learn that the modern +Babylon plus Nineveh, New York, could be sent to bed +at one o'clock and forbidden to dance by daylight. Ordinarily +nothing on earth would have mattered less to +Forbes than the fate of tea-dances. But this ukase drove +him further than ever from his Persis.</p> + +<p>The curious mania for public dancing had enabled him, +though come to town a stranger, to join immediately +in festival relations with people to whose homes he would +normally have been months in penetrating. The mayor's +edict revoked this democracy, and he was once more +a stranger in the city. He must meet his new-found +friends formally and at long intervals, if at all. He +thanked his stars that he had arranged to give the luncheon +in time. He must set about ordering it at once, and he +must see to it that there was no flaw in its perfection.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">ON his way to the Ritz-Carlton, Forbes stopped at +his bank to draw some money. He decided that he +would better take along a hundred dollars. It would +look impressive when he paid the waiter. He realized +that it would drag his bank-account below the acceptable +minimum. But he set his teeth and determined to do +the thing right if he bankrupted the government. He +would probably need most of the rest of the hundred +before the week was out. He could begin to save again +when he was in his uniform again.</p> + +<p>He drew the money, strolled to the hotel, asked for +Fernand, and found him at a glass screen in a superb +room that ran from street to street. A multitude of red +chairs populated the floor, and the medallioned white +ceiling was a huge ellipse that looked as big as the earth's +orbit.</p> + +<p>Fernand was cautiously gracious till he learned that +Miss Cabot had sent Forbes to him; then he became quite +paternal. Forbes slipped him a ten-dollar bill, and he +listened almost tenderly as Forbes explained:</p> + +<p>"I want to give a little luncheon—nothing elaborate, +but—well, something rather nice, you know."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, M'sieur. And how many will there be?"</p> + +<p>Fernand spoke English glibly, with hardly more accent +than a sweetish thickness.</p> + +<p>"We are seven," said Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir. Will you select what you wish, or—"</p> + +<p>He handed Forbes the card of the day. Forbes looked +at the French. He could read military memoirs and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +strategical works in French, but he was floored by the +technical food-terms. A glimpse at the prices unnerved +him further; but he asked: "What would you suggest—I'm +just home from Asia. I feel a little out of it."</p> + +<p>"If Monsieur would permit me," said Fernand, with +the eagerness of a benevolent conspirator, an artist with +a mission, "I will arrange it and give you a pleasant surprise +or two."</p> + +<p>Forbes swallowed a small lump of embarrassment, and +was careful to ask carelessly:</p> + +<p>"About how much would it be?"</p> + +<p>He wanted to forestall at least one surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not a great deal," Fernand smiled, with the bedside +manner of a family doctor. "Miss Cabot hates heavy +food. Zhoost a little cocktel, and some <i>caviar d'Astrakhan</i> +to begin; and perhaps a little broth; ah, better! she likes +<i>purée St.-Germain</i>. And after, a little berd and some +salade, a sweet, perhaps, or a cheese, some coffee—nothing +more! Very simple is best."</p> + +<p>This sounded so sane that Forbes began to pluck up +hope. He asked:</p> + +<p>"Does she—do they—will you give us wine of any +kind?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Cabot does not care for champagne; and Mr. +Enslee—did you say he would be of the party?"</p> + +<p>Forbes had not said it, and he flushed to think that +everybody, even a head waiter, must be linking Persis' +name with Enslee's. But more than ever now he must +make sure not to give a shabby meal. Meanwhile he +answered the question with a casual nod:</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Enslee will be here."</p> + +<p>Fernand spoke with indulgent pity: "Mr. Enslee takes +usually only a highball of the Scotch. But I think you +could tempt them both with a little sherry—for the sake +of the berd. I have a sherry that is delicious."</p> + +<p>"How much delicious?" Forbes asked, trying to be +flippant at his own funeral.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Eight dollars the bottle. But very fine! They +would all like it very much."</p> + +<p>At the mention of a concrete price Forbes grew uneasy, +and asked outright: "Could you tell me how much—about +how much this luncheon is going to cost me?"</p> + +<p>Forbes felt ashamed of discussing prices, though many +a richer man, especially Enslee, would have fought all +along the line and delivered an oration on the extortions +of restaurateurs. But Fernand began to compute:</p> + +<p>"Let me see; seven cocktels at twenty-five is one-seventy-five. +Caviar would be one-twenty-five per person; +for seven would be eight-seventy-five. The <i>purée +St.-Germain</i> we shall make it special—say, about five +dollars. I should recommend the <i>poulet de grain aux +cèpes</i>; it is two-fifty per person. You do not really need +any <i>légumes</i>, except the asparagus. Oh, this morning +what asparagus! I saw it! Asparagus, yes?" Forbes +nodded desperately. "That will be seven dollars more; +but then you will not wish <i>salade</i>—no, you will not wish +<i>salade</i>, though the endive is—no, we will not have endive. +For the sweet would you wish special favors? No, it is +too much; the Nesselrode pudding is nice. Miss Cabot +adores the marrons—good! We might serve cheese, +though it is too much. But we will have it ready. Then +the coffee is special, and a liqueur, perhaps—yes? Miss +Cabot likes the white mint. There will be some cigars +for the gentlemen, of course—and the ladies will take +their cigarettes with their coffee down the steps here, I +presume. Now, let me see." He mumbled his addition a +moment, then broke the news. "That makes—about +fifty-four-seventy-five. Yes—ah no! we have not added +the sherry—one bottle, perhaps two. So you see, Monsieur, +it will come only to sixty—sixty-five dollars—roughly."</p> + +<p>Forbes thought the word "roughly" appropriate. In +his soul there was a sound like the last sough of water +in an emptying bathtub. He added mentally the ten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +dollars he had given Fernand, and the ten dollars he must +give the waiter. He wondered if he looked as sick as he +felt; as sick as his hundred dollars would look. He had +cherished a mad fancy for inviting everybody to dinner, +the theater, and a tango supper. If his modest luncheon +put him where it did, he wondered where such an evening +would have left him. From this point of view he was +escaping cheaply. Anyway, he had crossed the Rubicon. +He was too poor to be able to afford to skimp. If +he had been an Enslee Estate, he could have offered his +guests toast and distilled water without being suspected +of poverty.</p> + +<p>And once committed to the course he had chosen, he +would have beggared his family rather than stint his hospitality. +He was a gentleman; a fool, perhaps, but a +gentleman.</p> + +<p>He gave Fernand the order to go ahead. Fernand was +upset by the brevity of the time allotted him, but promised +to do his best. Forbes cast his eye about for a good table. +Fernand put up his hand:</p> + +<p>"Miss Cabot has her favorite table. You shall have +that, also her captain and her waiter."</p> + +<p>Forbes remembered Persis' warning.</p> + +<p>"But this luncheon is really in honor of Mrs. Neff," +he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah, in that case you will want her table. She prefers +the opposite side, nearer the band."</p> + +<p>Forbes, having a little while to kill, set out for a stroll +round the block. It came to him suddenly that the +precious hundred dollars he had drawn to make a good +show would evaporate and leave almost nothing. He +went to his bank and wrote a check for fifty dollars more. +As he stood waiting at the paying-teller's grill he felt as +if he were a forger taking money he had no right to. But +the teller expressed no surprise. When Forbes returned +to the Ritz-Carlton he found his guests already gathering +in the lounge. Willie Enslee came in late and surly. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +explained that his man had had the impudence to fall +ill, and had left him to dress himself.</p> + +<p>They had their cocktails, and then Forbes led his little +flock up to the rich pasture. He had to beg pardon +through a knot of people pleading vainly for tables in the +circle. They were being turned off into the side rooms +of mediocrity.</p> + +<p>It gave Forbes a feeling of elation to be greeted with +homage by name and led at once to his table. It made +a brave showing with silver, glass, and napery already +disposed, and a great bouquet of fresh lilacs in the center.</p> + +<p>Fernand whispered to Forbes that he had taken the +liberty of changing the bill of fare somewhat. The result +was a surprise to those spoiled palates, and Forbes' guests +were like children in their expressions of delight. Forbes +was voted a gourmet, but he gave the credit to the hovering +Fernand. He was honest enough still for that, though +he had not the courage to admit how deep a gouge the +luncheon made in his savings.</p> + +<p>Still, he felt as he surveyed his triumph that wealth was +a noble thing. If only he could give such artistic banquets +every day! If only he could frequent such places and +hold up his end among all these brilliant crowds! So +many, many people had so much money. Thousands of +them were banqueting here and in other restaurants, +encouraging all the arts from architecture to salad-dressing. +Why should he be denied the status of his +tastes?</p> + +<p>He attempted to grovel before Persis in apology for +oversleeping. But she refused to take the offense seriously, +and she congratulated him for having the courage +and the honesty to confess the real excuse for absence. +He told her that he was sure, from her alert and lustrous +eye, that she too had overslept, but she vowed she had +not, and he wondered again that such delicate beauty +should be conjoined to such unfailing strength.</p> + +<p>Save when it was interrupted by exclamations of ap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>plause +for the choice of the dishes, or childish yum-yums +for the exquisiteness of their preparation, the talk was all +about the mayor's order closing the <i>thés dansants</i>.</p> + +<p>"They call this a free country," Mrs. Neff grumbled, +"and yet they tell us we may not dance with our tea!"</p> + +<p>"A good thing, too!" said Enslee. "It was time somebody +stepped in before the whole country went absolutely +nutty over this dance business. A little more and +they'd have had the waiters trotting in with soup."</p> + +<p>"But what are we to do with our afternoons?" Winifred +sighed.</p> + +<p>"What did you do before?" said Willie.</p> + +<p>"I don't know; but I'm sure it was stupid."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck, the consoler, came to the rescue. "Sigh no +more, ladies! There'll be turkey-trotting in this old town +when we're all trotted out to Woodlawn. Forbesy, were +you ever in Yellowstone Park?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Did you see the Old Faithful geyser geyse?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Remember how she would lie quiet as a tub for an +hour, and then blow off her head and explode a stream of +water to the clouds, make an awful fuss for a few minutes, +and then drop off to sleep again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's reform in New York or any big town. +There's wild excitement now; there'll be editorials and +sermons and police raids and license-revoking for a few +days. Then everything will quiet down, and in a week +all the old dancing-stands will be running away as before."</p> + +<p>Willie changed the subject with his usual abruptness. +All this time he had been revealing an unexpected enthusiasm +for the little purple forest of lilacs in the centerpiece. +He kept pulling the nearest sprays to him and +breathing their incense in.</p> + +<p>"Do you know I simply adore lilacs," he smiled. "Up +at my country place they must be glorious. My gardener<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +writes me they have never been so good as this year. I +wish I could see them."</p> + +<p>Nobody paid much heed to his emotions until, a little +later, he broke out suddenly:</p> + +<p>"By Jove, I believe I'll take a run up in the country +and see my lilacs and spend a night in real air."</p> + +<p>"That's a fine idea," said Winifred; "we'll all go along."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, you won't," said Willie. "The place isn't +open yet. Nobody there but the gardener and his helpers."</p> + +<p>This checked Winifred only for a moment, then she +returned to the charge.</p> + +<p>"All the more fun," she exclaimed. "Let's all go up +and make a week-end of it."</p> + +<p>"But there are no servants there, I tell you," Willie +insisted.</p> + +<p>"That's where the fun comes in," said Winifred, in +love with her inspiration. "It would be a glorious lark. +There's nothing to do here in town."</p> + +<p>"We have to eat, you know," Willie reminded her, +coldly; "and nobody to cook it."</p> + +<p>"I'm a love of a cook," said Winifred. "And I've +been through your kitchen up there. It's a model—electric +dingblats and all sorts of things. I'll cook the +meals if the rest of you will build the fires and make +the beds and wash the dishes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Winifred, behave!" Willie sniffed.</p> + +<p>But Winifred would not behave. She drummed up +her scheme until she raised the others to a kind of amused +interest in the venture. It would be a novelty at least.</p> + +<p>"We can always cut and run at a moment's notice," +Winifred explained, for a clincher. "A couple of hours +in a car and we're back in town."</p> + +<p>"But there are no servants there, I tell you," Willie +reiterated. "You don't seriously expect us to go up +there and do our own work?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Winifred. "It's time you learned +to use your lazy hands before they drop off from neglect."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No thank you!" Willie demurred. "If we've got to +go, we'll take along some deck-hands. What do you say, +Persis?"</p> + +<p>"The only thing I like about it," said Persis, "is the +absence of the servants. I can't remember a time when +they haven't been standing round staring or listening +through the doors. Oh, Lord, how good it would be to +be out from under their thumbs for a few days!"</p> + +<p>"We can't afford the scandal," said Willie. "Servants +are the best chaperons there are. If we went up without +them there'd be a sensation in the papers."</p> + +<p>"You and your fear of the newspapers!" Winifred +retorted. "They need never know."</p> + +<p>"You can't go up to my place without some chaperon!" +Willie snapped, with a pettish firmness. "I don't run +a road-house, you know."</p> + +<p>"If you've got to have a chaperon, maybe you'd take +me," said Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>"You!" Willie laughed cynically. "And who'll chaperon +the chaperon? You'll make more mischief than anybody. +Your affair with Mr. Lord—er, pardon me, Mr. +Ward—is the talk of the town already."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff's laugh was a mixture of ridicule at the possibility +and yearning that it might not be impossible. +Her comment was in the spirit of burlesque.</p> + +<p>"But if I marry him afterward it will put a stop to the +scandal."</p> + +<p>"Mother, you are simply indecent!" her daughter +piped up, with a kind of militant innocence.</p> + +<p>The luxury of such a reproof was too dear to Mrs. +Neff's unwithered heart to be neglected. She added her +vote to those of Winifred and Persis.</p> + +<p>Forbes dared not speak, but he was aglow with the +vision of a few days with Persis in the country. As he +crossed the continent he had seen the traces of spring +everywhere; everywhere the mad incendiary had been +kindling fires in tree and shrub and sward. From the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +train window he had watched the splendors unroll like +a moving film. He had wished to leap from the car and +wander with somebody—with a vague somebody. And +now he had found her, and the golden opportunity tapped +on the window.</p> + +<p>Willie fenced with Winifred till the luncheon was finished. +Then they retired to the lounge for coffee. Here +women had the franchise for public smoking, and they +puffed like small boys. Winifred renewed the battle for +the picnic.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck had watched the contest with a grin. At +last he spoke: "It's a pretty little war. Reluctant host +trying to convince guests that they are not invited. +Guests saying, 'We'll come anyway.' Better give in +peacefully, Willie, or they'll take possession and lock you +outside."</p> + +<p>Then Willie gave in, but on the ground that Persis +wanted it. He attempted a sheepish gallantry and a +veiled romantic reference. He, too, had a touch of April +in his frosty little heart. Forbes winced at the rivalry; +but at any price he wanted to be with Persis where the +spring was.</p> + +<p>Willie, yielding to the rôle of <i>hôte malgré lui</i>, announced +that since they were determined to invade his respectable +ancestral home, the sooner they got it over with +the better. Persis and the rest were creatures of impulse, +glad to have an impulse, and they agreed to the +flight as quickly as a flock of birds. What engagements +they had they dismissed. Their maids could send telegrams +of "regret that, owing to unexpected absence from +town," etc.</p> + +<p>Willie went to call up his gardener and have the house +thrown open to the air and fresh provisions ordered in.</p> + +<p>He had just gone when a page came to Persis with the +word that her father wanted to speak to her on the +telephone.</p> + +<p>She gave a start and looked afraid as she rose. Forbes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +watched her go, and his heart prayed that no bad news +might await her. She was so beautiful as she moved, +and so plucky. He knew that she was frightened, but +she spoke to various people she passed with all the light-hearted +graciousness imaginable. She came back speedily +with a look of anxiety vainly resisted. She explained +that her father was leaving for Chicago on the Twentieth +Century, and wanted to tell her good-by. She would +barely have time to reach the house before he left.</p> + +<p>Forbes offered to accompany her home. She insisted +that he should not leave his guests. Winifred and Mrs. +Neff rose at once, claiming that they must also leave to +make ready for the excursion.</p> + +<p>Forbes bade them good-by rather awkwardly. He regretted +the disorder of his exit as a host, but he would +not forfeit this chance to be alone with Persis.</p> + +<p>She was so distressed about her father that she forgot +Willie's existence, and left no message for him. When +he had finished his tempest in a telephone-booth, and conveyed +his orders to his head gardener, he found Mrs. +Neff and Winifred waiting for their cars. They explained +Persis' flight and made arrangements for the hour and +place of meeting for the journey.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WHEN Forbes hastened after the hastening Persis and +saw how distraught she was he felt the sharp cutting-edge +of sympathy. It was his first sight of her in a +mood of heartache, and his own heart ached akin.</p> + +<p>When they reached the outer door they found to their +amazement that it was raining hard. Within doors there +had been such luxurious peace under such glowing lights +that the sun was not missed and the rain was not heard. +But along the street, gusts of wind swept furious, with +long javelins of rain that made the awning almost useless. +Women gathered their finery about them, and men clung +to their hats while they waited for their cars, and then +bolted for them as they came up dripping under the guidance +of dripping chauffeurs.</p> + +<p>While Persis waited for a taxicab Forbes tried to shelter +her with his body. He ventured to hope that her father's +absence would not distress her.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," she answered, bravely, "not at all. He's +going on business. He told me the other day he might +have to leave town for a few days—on business."</p> + +<p>Forbes hesitated over his next words.</p> + +<p>"I hope this won't prevent you from going up to Mr. +Enslee's."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, quite the contrary," she said. "I'd be alone +at home. I'll be glad of the—the diversion. Here's the +taxi. It's really not necessary for you to go with me."</p> + +<p>For answer he took her arm and ran with her to the +door the footman opened. A blast of windy rain lashed +them as they crept into the car. The door slammed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +they were under way, running cautiously on the skiddish +pavement.</p> + +<p>At last he was alone with her. The rain made their +shelter cozier, and for all its bluster it was a spring rain. +With its many-hoofed clatter it was a battalion of police +clearing the way for the flower procession.</p> + +<p>Thinking of this, Forbes said:</p> + +<p>"I'm mighty glad you're not leaving town."</p> + +<p>"But I am."</p> + +<p>"With your father, I mean. You're leaving town with +me, instead."</p> + +<p>She looked him in the eye with some surprise.</p> + +<p>"It's a good thing we put the blame for that luncheon +on Mrs. Neff. It tickled her to death and—do you know +that Willie really thinks you're flirting with her—or aiming +at Alice? He can't tell which." She laughed deliciously. +It did not grieve her to fool Willie.</p> + +<p>The cab rocked in the wind, and the rain beat upon it +with the sound of waves protesting against the rush of +a yacht's prow. Forbes caught a glimpse of a street +sign. It warned him that they were already passing +Fiftieth Street. In a few minutes they would be at her +home.</p> + +<p>"I'm not flirting with anybody," he said. "I'm +adoring you."</p> + +<p>A little frown of bewilderment troubled the smile she +gave him. She felt his hand on hers and tried to draw +it away, but he held it fast.</p> + +<p>"We're not at the opera, you know," she said. "That +noise isn't the music of 'Tristan and Isolde.' That's +rain."</p> + +<p>"I know it," he answered, "and I don't want you to be +Isolde. If only she had married Tristan in the first +place—"</p> + +<p>"They might have been divorced in the second place."</p> + +<p>"Don't be—don't talk that way. I'm in deadly earnest," +he pleaded, but she laughed evasively.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That was very heady sherry you gave us to-day."</p> + +<p>He shook his head sadly, as over the flippancy of a +child, and took her hand in both of his.</p> + +<p>"It's broad daylight, Mr. Forbes, and this is Madison +Avenue."</p> + +<p>"But nobody can see us," he answered. "Look at the +rain."</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make?" she answered, tugging +at her hand. But she looked, and saw how they +were closed away from the world. Sheets of water +splashed and spread so thickly that they covered the +windows with gray curtains.</p> + +<p>It was as if a brief tropical flood had burst upon New +York.</p> + +<p>Somehow it did make a difference that nobody could +see. It always makes a difference in us that nobody +can see us.</p> + +<p>Even Forbes felt the change in Persis. Perhaps it was +only that her resistance was minutely diminished, or that +one of her many fears was removed, one support gone. +As a soldier he had sometime felt that slackening of morale +across the space between firing-lines. It is then that the +military genius orders a charge and turns the enemy's +momentary weakness into a panic.</p> + +<p>So Forbes charged Persis. In his face gathered a fierce +determination. His fingers tightened upon hers, no +longer caressingly, but cruelly, till they hurt. He pulled +her right hand across him with his right, and thrust his +left arm back of her, caught her farther shoulder in the +crook of it, and drew her close till their faces almost +touched, till her eyes were so close to his that they were +grotesquely one.</p> + +<p>And then he paused. He lacked the élan to seize the +red flag of her lips. He paused weakly to stare at her +and to beseech the kiss he might have captured.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me!" he said.</p> + +<p>So silly a phrase for so warm a deed. She shook her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +head, and her fright was gone. She taunted him from her +eyes as from an unconquered citadel.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me!" he repeated, feeling poltroon and idiotic.</p> + +<p>She did not upbraid him or feel any anger or any helplessness; +she just studied him, ignoring the fact that he +held her body close to him in a crushing embrace. After +all, that meant nothing. Almost anybody might hold +her so at a dance for all the world to see. Nothing mattered, +she thought, so long as their souls did not embrace.</p> + +<p>But therein she was wrong, for their souls were not +dancing to music. He was demanding her love, her submission +to his love. Their souls were debating that vital +question, without speech, yet with every argument.</p> + +<p>She enjoyed the struggle. She was striking the first +of the matches. She would watch the pretty blue flame +a moment before it blazed red, then she would blow it out +with a little breath from the lips he demanded.</p> + +<p>It was fascinating to see how tremendously excited he +was over the privilege of touching his lips to hers. It +was a quaint little act to make so much of. He was a +splendid man, brave, charming, good to see, and now he +was crimson and fierce-eyed and breathing hard, trembling +with the struggle to keep from taking what was so +close. She smiled at him triumphantly. She was about +to puff out the flame with a whiff of sarcasm, when he said, +with all the simplicity of truth:</p> + +<p>"I couldn't take a kiss unless you gave it to me. I +don't want to kiss you unless you want me to. May I?"</p> + +<p>It was such a boyish plea that she could not be sophisticated +in its presence. She could not answer such hunger +with wit. She felt a sudden power from somewhere +pressing her head forward to his lips and her heart closer +to his.</p> + +<p>She smiled tenderly with veiled eyes, and no longer +held off. With a gasp of joy he understood and caught +her against him. But just as their lips would have met +another instinct saved her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>She had always felt a kind of sanctity about her mouth, +a preciousness that must not be cheaply cast away. +Among all the kisses she had given and taken there still +remained this first kiss, still vestal and virgin. And that +was the kiss he asked.</p> + +<p>She turned her head swiftly, and it was her cheek that +he touched. There was such a burning in the touch that +the fire ran through her. Her cheeks crimsoned. She +closed her eyes in a kind of sweet shame.</p> + +<p>She was amazed to be there, huddled in his arms, with +his lips preying upon her cheek. Her soul was in wild +debate with itself, busy with reproaches and summons to +battle against the invader. But it was like a senate +without president. There was no one to give the +order.</p> + +<p>At last she opened her eyes to see again what manner +of man this was that had conjured away all her pride and +her wisdom and her strength. Her eyes saw that the curtain +of rain was slipping from the windows. The downpour +had abated. They were drawing up at her own +curb.</p> + +<p>She flung off his hands with a gasp of anger and terror. +He stared at her in a daze. Then he understood.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me!" he pleaded.</p> + +<p>She was furious with him; but she blamed herself more, +and breathed hard with rage as she straightened her hat +and her hair.</p> + +<p>An old footman was waiting at the top of the steps with +an umbrella. He ran down and opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Your father is waiting for you, miss," he said.</p> + +<p>Forbes stepped forth into the light drizzle and helped +her out.</p> + +<p>"Good-by," he said. And again "Good-by." But +she hurried up the steps. Forbes followed her with his +eyes, and saw an elderly gentleman waiting for her at the +door. There was a troubled look on his face. The door +closed upon him as he caught Persis in his arms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes told the chauffeur to take him to his hotel, and +crept back into the deserted nest of romance. The taxicab +turned slowly round. As it passed the house again, +Forbes saw another car stop at the curb. From it stepped +Willie Enslee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">ALL the way back to the hotel, all the while he was +selecting what clothes he should take, all the while +he waited for the hour of the general rendezvous to arrive +Forbes was troubled by the remembrance of Willie Enslee's +appearance at Persis' home.</p> + +<p>He had apparently come in hot pursuit. On the other +hand, he might have come merely to make the final arrangements +for the excursion to the country. And yet +Willie must be accepted as a rival. Or, rather, it was +Forbes that was the rival, since Enslee's infatuation for +Persis was generally known long before Forbes reached +New York.</p> + +<p>Forbes did not approve of men who went after other +men's sweethearts to take them away. But Persis had +told him that she had never loved any man; ergo, she had +not loved Enslee—if Enslee could be called a man.</p> + +<p>Even so, Forbes would have preferred to make love to +Mr. Enslee's sweetheart somewhere else than at Mr. +Enslee's home. But how was he to fight his rival except +where his rival was? How rescue the imprisoned princess +but by invading the ogre's castle? Physically, Enslee +was hardly more than a pocket ogre, but his wealth made +him a giant. It was with the Enslee Estates that Forbes +must grapple. He feared that Persis might drift into +their wizard power, and he wanted to save her from that +life of "luxurious misery" of which he had read so much, +for that life of "blissful poverty with love" of which he +had read so much.</p> + +<p>Besides, in invading Enslee's own domain he was giv<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>ing +Enslee every advantage. All of the splendor of Enslee's +château, the armor of riches and the sword of gold, +would defend him, while Forbes would attack only with his +empty hands and the power of love. If Goliath thought +that David took an unfair advantage of him, why did not +Goliath lay aside his buckler and his bludgeon and use a +sling, too? Pebbles were plentiful enough.</p> + +<p>Forbes reasoned at his scruples till they faced the other +way. He argued till what he would have called vicious +in other men became sincerely virtuous in his own special +instance. So men and empires, republics and religions +have always argued when they were about to try to take +something away from somebody.</p> + +<p>As Forbes folded his togs and wished them better and +braver, he paused to laugh at what Persis had told him: +Willie believed that Forbes was flirting with Mrs. Neff for +herself or her daughter! What a blind little ape Enslee +was! Then Forbes straightened up and flushed and called +himself a double-dyed cad. He flung aside the things he +was folding and resolved not to go to Enslee's home at all.</p> + +<p>He sank into a chair and pondered. If he did not go +he would be left alone in New York. Only a few days +remained of his little vacation. By the time Persis came +back Forbes would be at his army post, a slave of discipline +and the everlasting round of the same dull duties. +Persis would be angry and hurt, and she would marry +Enslee; she would live in that home with Enslee; she +would become part of the Enslee Estates, body and soul.</p> + +<p>Forbes' gorge rose at the visions this brought to his +mind. He ripped out an oath, and flung off the withes +of such false honor. He would, he must, save Persis at +any cost. If Enslee were foolish enough to think that +Forbes was hunting Mrs. Neff or Alice, let him take the +consequences. If Enslee had not thought so, he would not +have asked Forbes to come along. To take advantage +of an enemy's weaknesses was the first rule of warfare. +To shoot from cover was the first business of a marksman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was not a contest in sharp-shooting at targets under +strict rules, with a medal for a prize. This was a battle +in rough country for the rescue of a beautiful girl.</p> + +<p>Forbes granted himself a plenary indulgence, and resumed +packing, smiling again at Willie's idea that he was +a suitor for the post of third husband to Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>He did not smile so well a few hours later, when Willie, +with the kindliest of motives, assigned him to Mrs. Neff's +automobile.</p> + +<p>"You two sweethearts," Enslee said, with a matchmaker's +grin, "will want to ride together, of course. +Persis and I will keep out of your way as much as we +can."</p> + +<p>Forbes was sportsman enough to credit Willie with a +bull's-eye. He smothered his chagrin and helped Mrs. +Neff into her car, while his two suit-cases were strapped +in the trunk-rack with the family baggage.</p> + +<p>The motor-caravan was made up of three machines. +Winifred ran her own roadster, nursing the steering-wheel +to her bosom, while her fat elbows harried Ten Eyck's +cramped form. Bob Fielding had been unable to get +away from the troubled waters of Wall Street, and Winifred +had adopted Ten Eyck as his understudy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff took her four-passenger touring-car. Forbes +decided after several appalling bumps that it had belonged +to her first husband. Alice sat with the chauffeur, +dreaming of Stowe Webb, no doubt. In the rear Mrs. +Neff, in her most garrulous mood, talked nonsense through +a veil whose flying ends kept snapping in Forbes' face. +And when they were beyond Broadway her cigarette +ashes kept sifting into his eyes.</p> + +<p>He was as polite as possible, but his thoughts were trying +to pierce the dust-wake of the great six-cylinder +touring-car in which Willie Enslee led the way with +Persis. All Forbes could see of her was the top of her +motor-hood and the veil that fled back like a signal beseeching +him to make haste and save her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>Broadway in the late afternoon was thick with the +home-going armies, and it seemed to stretch as long and +as crowded as the Milky Way. On through Yonkers to +Dobbs Ferry and Tarrytown the journey took them, +passing an occasional monument of our brief history, a +tablet to mark where Rochambeau met Washington and +brought France to our rescue, or a memorial to the cowboys +that arrested Major André.</p> + +<p>In Forbes' then humor no small charms of nature or +legend could have caught his mind from his jealousy. +Even the epic levels of the Hudson River and the Valhalla +walls of the Palisades hardly impressed him. What +success they had with him was mainly due to his remembrance +of seeing them first from the train that brought +him to New York a few days, or a few eons, ago. He was +full then of ambitions to shine as a soldier in an enlarged +camp. Now his treasons and stratagems were concerned +with a love-campaign whose spoils was Persis Cabot.</p> + +<p>There was a pause by agreement for dinner at a road-house—"their +last civilized meal," as Ten Eyck mournfully +prophesied, "before they entered the Purgatory of +Winifred's cooking at Willie's boarding-house."</p> + +<p>When the task of fretting out a dinner was finished +they got under way, pushing north again.</p> + +<p>Eventually the pilot-car, or, rather, its guiding cloud +of dust, swept off to the east, turning its back on the +Hudson and plunging into the heart of Westchester +County, an ocean of hills like green billows, and valleys +like their troughs; peaceful castles set on high places, and +pleasant villages dispersed in low; the homely roominess +of farms, and now and then a huddle of crowded rookeries, +where Italian peasants had set up a congenial little slums +along some ugly waste.</p> + +<p>Everything took on a wistfulness in the evening air, +which the sunset was tincturing like claret poured into +water. Forbes was aching to be with Persis, and he +hoped that she was wistful to be with him. The moon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +had loitered with torch half aglow in the wings of the sky +until the sun was gone, and then its lamp was raised, and +it entered its own scene. In the houses lights began to +pink the dark with the trite but irresistible appeal of +Christmas-card transparencies.</p> + +<p>Forbes lost all sense of direction in the winding roads, +and even Mrs. Neff's chatter yielded to the brow-caressing +dusk. The swift progress of the car gave no suggestion +of wheels, but rather of a flying keel on a smooth +stream.</p> + +<p>Finally the searchlights of Enslee's machine turned +sharp at right angles. A beautiful granite bridge leaped +into view as suddenly as if the great god Wotan had +builded it with a word. At the farther side of the bridge +stood a lodge-keeper's home, whose architecture seemed +to shift the scene instantly to the France of the first +Francis.</p> + +<p>"Here we are!" Mrs. Neff cried. "And I'm half frozen. +I hope the gardener has aired the rooms and put dry +sheets on the beds, or I'm in for lumbago."</p> + +<p>"Mother, you're just death to romance!" Alice protested. +She had doubtless been thinking of Stowe Webb.</p> + +<p>The car glided across the bridge, and the moon-whipped +stream reveling below it, then preceded through a granite +gateway with a portcullis suspended like a social guillotine. +And then the sense of privacy began. The very +moon seemed to become a part of the Enslee Estates.</p> + +<p>The motors tilted backward as the hill rose; and Mrs. +Neff's rheumatic car groaned and worried a spiraling road +up and up through masses of anonymous shrubs pouring +forth incense, through spaces of moon-swept hillside and +thickets of somber velours. Then there was a glimpse of +the radiant geometry of moon-washed roofs. A turn or +two more, and the wheels were swishing into the graveled +court of a stately mansion.</p> + +<p>The door under the porte-cochère was open, and in its +embrasure stood a leanish man and his fattish wife, hos<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>pitable +as innkeepers, the warm light streaming back of +them like peering children.</p> + +<p>Enslee's voice came out of the silence:</p> + +<p>"That you, Prout? H'are you, Martha?" And then, +with characteristic originality, "Well, we got here."</p> + +<p>To which Prout responded with equal importance:</p> + +<p>"So you did, sir."</p> + +<p>He and his wife had been working like mad since +Enslee telephoned, trying to turn themselves into a troop +of servants, whisking shrouds from table and piano and +chairs, and mopping a cloth of dust from every surface. +They were as respectful now as Philemon and Baucis welcoming +Jupiter, and as apologetic as if the palace were their +own unworthy cot.</p> + +<p>"I've got a pack of Indians with me, Prout," said Enslee. +"I didn't want 'em, but they would come, and now +we've got to make the best of it. Don't let 'em trample +your flower-beds. And if anybody breaks a flower-stem +we'll have him or her shot at sunrise."</p> + +<p>Martha giggled into her fat palm.</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'e will 'ave 'is joke; 'e will so. And isn't this +Miss Cabot? Of course it is."</p> + +<p>Forbes, seated in the rear car, heard again that assumption +of Persis and Enslee as a couple.</p> + +<p>The cars rolled up to the door in turn. The women +as they got out piled their wraps on Martha till she completely +disappeared, except for a pair of clutching hands, +and a voice from the depths.</p> + +<p>The chauffeurs made off down the road to the distant +garage, with instructions to stay there after one of them +should have come back for Winifred's roadster.</p> + +<p>The gardener, apologizing for his awkwardness in the +office of a butler, led the little troop into the great living-room, +where a big fire blazed, splashing walls and floors +with banners of red and yellow.</p> + +<p>Prout explained that he had been unable to start either +the hot-water furnace that heated the house or the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +dynamo that lighted it. And, being short-handed like, +and took with a stroke of sciatiky from the onseasonable +cold of the backward spring, he had found time to make +fires only in the master's room, his mother's room, and +one other. The caretaker, who had kept a fire going all +winter for the sake of the water-pipes, had let it go out +at the first warm weather and gone for a visit to his +wife's mother.</p> + +<p>"That's what we get for coming up before the place +has been set to rights," Willie grumbled. "I suppose you +girls will have to draw lots for my room."</p> + +<p>"Me for the nursery," said Winifred. "It's the sunniest +place in the house, and—"</p> + +<p>"You're not going to try to sleep on one of those children's +beds?" Willie gasped.</p> + +<p>"No, nor on two of them," said Winifred; "but there's +a glorious window-seat a mile wide."</p> + +<p>Willie's self-sacrifice was of the parsimonious sort that +made acceptance impossible. None of the women would +deprive him of his bed. Mrs. Neff was assigned to Willie's +mother's room, and Alice and Persis to those on either +side. Forbes and Ten Eyck were exiled to the southwest +wing.</p> + +<p>Prout and Martha could not believe that Mr. Enslee +had come without the retinue of servants that ordinarily +preceded his august appearance. In fact, the adventure +was as unlike Enslee as it was uncongenial to him. He +could not and would not see the fun of it.</p> + +<p>Martha and Prout offered their service, but Winifred +would not let them mar the perfection of her Swiss Family +Robinson. She overawed Willie and drove the old couple +back to their own cottage.</p> + +<p>When they had retired with prophecies of disaster and +evil the would-be gipsies felt relieved of all the encumbrances +of civilization. Winifred called it a return to +nature. For the time being, however, the chief emotion +was one of blissful weariness. Host and guests had kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +themselves keyed up all season, like instruments in a concert, +and now that the tension was released they seemed +to collapse upon themselves.</p> + +<p>In front of the great fireplace was a divan almost as +big as a life-boat, and cushioned into such a cloud as the +gods rested on. Winifred and Mrs. Neff and Alice were +lolling on it, and Murray Ten Eyck sat on the edge. +Back of it was the usual living-room table with a pile or +two of books and magazines.</p> + +<p>Persis paused for a moment, looking over the books to +select something to take up to her room. She pushed them +about with indifference.</p> + +<p>"Last year's novels!" she smiled. "As thrilling as last +year's birds' nests."</p> + +<p>She turned up an illustrated society weekly of a former +spring. The frontispiece held her a moment, and she +shook her head.</p> + +<p>"And last year's reputations. Here's a big portrait +of Mrs. Richard Lanthorpe and her two children." She +read the caption aloud: "'Prominent young matron who +is just opening her Newport villa. Though a devoted +mother to her charming little daughters, Mrs. Lanthorpe +is also well known as a skilful whip.'"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" said Winifred, reaching out her hand. +"Let me see the cat. A whip, eh? You could drive a +coach and four through her reputation now."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff took the paper from her hand. "Her husband +got the kiddies. Pretty little tikes, too."</p> + +<p>"She sold 'em for the Newport villa," said Alice, looking +over her mother's shoulder. Mrs. Neff turned on her +with a glare of amazement.</p> + +<p>"Where do you children pick up such things?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not children," said Alice, "and the papers were +full of it."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Dicky was up here last spring for a week-end +with her husband," said Willie. "And so was the other +man. What's his name? Later I heard that people had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +been talking a lot even then, but I never suspected anything +till later."</p> + +<p>"You never would, Willie," said Mrs. Neff. She stared +at the picture. "She's really very good-looking, and she +wasn't a bad sort altogether. I wonder which one of us +will be gone next winter?"</p> + +<p>"You, probably," Willie snickered, and the others +laughed lazily. But Mrs. Neff bristled.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you have to laugh. Am I too old to +misbehave?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it, darling!" said Willie. "You're just at +the dangerous age. I—er—I don't mean exactly that, +either."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff turned a page hastily. "Here's a picture of +Deborah Reeve in her coming-out gown."</p> + +<p>"She came out so far and so fast she went right back," +said Ten Eyck, and explained to Forbes: "Hesitated +between her riding-master and her mother's chauffeur, +and finally ran off with the first officer of her father's +yacht. She was a born democrat."</p> + +<p>"Here's a snapshot of Mrs. Tom Corliss at the Meadowbrook +Steeplechase. Look, that's 'Pup' Mowat standing +with her. Good Lord, he was hanging round her a year +ago, and people are just beginning to notice. Haven't +they been clever? A whole year under the rose and right +under the public's nose."</p> + +<p>"Tom Corliss will be finding it out before long," said +Winifred.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Willie, "I've discovered that the husband +is always the last to find out." And he tossed his +head in careless pride at the novelty of his pronouncement.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Willie the observing little thing?" said Winifred. +The others exchanged glances of contemptuous +amusement while their host looked wise.</p> + +<p>Persis strolled round to the divan, took Murray by +the ear, and hoisted him from his place.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, thanks, Murray," she said. "I couldn't think of +taking your seat." And dropped into it.</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do for amusement to-night?" +said Willie. "Who wants to play auction?"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>"Shall we have some music, then?" A general declination. +"Some singing? A dance?"</p> + +<p>They refused even that, and he grew desperate.</p> + +<p>"Charades?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" came from the crowd.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be entertained," said Persis. "I'm +never so miserable as when I'm being entertained."</p> + +<p>Everybody approved. Just to be let alone was a +luxury.</p> + +<p>Willie ventured a last retort: "Anybody want a +drink?"</p> + +<p>Everybody wanted a drink. Willie went to a side-wall +and groped for a button, pushed it and held it, then resumed +his place before the fire. After a time he pushed +it again.</p> + +<p>"Where is everybody?" he snapped. Then the truth +dawned on him again. "Good Lord, we're marooned!"</p> + +<p>Winifred chuckled at the situation. "You'll have to +be your own barkeep, Willie. Go rustle us what you can +find."</p> + +<p>"But everything would be in the cellar," he answered. +"If there's anything here at all, which I doubt. And the +key is in town. Couldn't trust Prout with it. Fine old +gardener—give his life to save a peony—but he's death +on liquor. I couldn't trust him to order in drinkables—besides, +I forgot."</p> + +<p>There were groans of horror.</p> + +<p>"'Water, water, everywhere,'" said Ten Eyck, "'and +not a drop to drink.'"</p> + +<p>"It's bad enough having no servants to wait on us," +Mrs. Neff pondered, "but who's to do our thinking for +us? Which'll we die of first? thirst or starvation?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll get in a supply from the village to-morrow," +said Willie, handsomely.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow never comes," said Winifred.</p> + +<p>For lack of artificial stimulus the momentary enthusiasm +lapsed again. Nobody cared even to read. The +fireplace was books enough.</p> + +<p>Forbes and Ten Eyck stood at either end of the mantel, +mere supporting statuary, their heads in shadow. Willie +teetered at the center of the hearth, toasting his coat-tails.</p> + +<p>The four women occupied the divan, sketched out brilliantly +against the dark like a group portrait of Sargent's. +The light worked over their images as a painter works, +making and illuminating shadows, touching a strand of +hair or a cheek-bone with a high light, modeling with a +streak of red some lifted muscle, then brushing it off again.</p> + +<p>The poses of the women were as various as their bodies +and souls. At one corner Mrs. Neff sat erect among the +cushions in a sleepy stateliness. Winifred filled the other +corner like another heap of cushions, hardly moving except +to flick her cigarette ashes on the floor to the acute distress +of Willie's neat soul. Alice drooped with arched +spine in a young girl's slump, and clung to a hand of Persis', +doubtless wishing it were Stowe Webb's. Persis sat +cross-legged, a smoking Sultana, her chin on the back of +one hand, one elbow on one knee.</p> + +<p>From his coign of shadow Forbes watched them. Vague +reverie held them all. The very shadows seemed to +breathe unevenly in restless meditation. The fire-logs +alone conversed aloud in mysterious whispers, with +crackling epigrams.</p> + +<p>Forbes wondered at the group, so real and so unreal. +He wondered what they were thinking of, each in her +castle of self, each with her yearnings backward and forward. +Winifred was wishing her lover there, perhaps, +and that her slim and gracile soul were not mislodged in +so determinedly fat a body; Mrs. Neff was wishing, per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>haps, +that her gray hair and her calendar of years did not +so thwart the young, romantic girl that housed in her +body, and must sleep alone, perhaps, forever. Suddenly +Forbes wished that he had not smiled so ruthlessly at the +thought of her expecting to be courted. Her longings +were pitiful, perhaps, but not ridiculous.</p> + +<p>It was easy to guess at Alice's thoughts. She was wishing +to be not so young and curbed by authority. She +was years older than Juliet had been when she went to +the church with Romeo and threw him the ladder and preceded +him to the tomb; yet Alice's well-matured desires +were smiled away and patronized as childish.</p> + +<p>And Persis: what were the thoughts that burned +within her soul and twitched at her fingers, or tugged at +her eyebrows, shook her eyelids, or tightened her lips? +Was she thinking of Forbes as he was thinking of +her?</p> + +<p>Suddenly her drooping bosom expanded with a great +breath, her lips parted, her eyes widened, her hand rose. +She was about to speak. What would she say?</p> + +<p>She yawned. Her hand automatically came up for +politeness' sake, but lingered to pat her straining lips +as if in approval. Her eyes blurred and fairly writhed. +All the muscles of her divine beauty were contorted. +She was not so much yawning as yawned. She was enjoying +it, too, and as it ended she sighed over it as over +a sweetmeat. The musing goddess had been suddenly +restored to humanity with a thump.</p> + +<p>Her comfortable sigh was echoed and her yawn outdone +by Winifred, who moaned:</p> + +<p>"I'm so damned sleepy I'll turn in here if the rest of +you will get off the bed."</p> + +<p>Then Alice yawned and wriggled, and Mrs. Neff gaped +with a slight restraint and staggered to her feet.</p> + +<p>"I'm on my way. I'd be bored to death if I weren't +so excited over the wonderful sleep I'm to have. I hope +I don't wake up for a week."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope you don't," said Willie, thrusting out his arms +in an all-embracing oscitation.</p> + +<p>There was an epidemic of yawns, and they staggered +to the console table where a long row of candles waited. +Ten Eyck lighted them and distributed them, and the +line moved on like a drunken torchlight procession, helped +and hindered one another up, and sang out faint "Good +nights" as they dispersed in the upper hall.</p> + +<p>Doors were closed, only to be flung open with wails +of distress. Martha and Prout had lugged all the trunks +and suit-cases and handbags to the wrong rooms.</p> + +<p>The three men were compelled to act as porters. Willie +was furious and full of "I told you so's"; but Ten Eyck +impersonated the transfer-men he had met, and had a different +dialect for every room.</p> + +<p>Forbes went timidly into the exquisite apartment where +Persis was ensconced. It was a shrine to him, and he +averted his eyes from the carved and lace-adorned altar +of her bed.</p> + +<p>But Ten Eyck turned back to pound on the door and +put in his palm, whining:</p> + +<p>"Don't forget the poor baggage-smasher, lady."</p> + +<p>Persis opened the door a trifle and gave him a twenty-five-cent +piece. She held out another for Forbes, and he +took it with a foolish rapture.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck bit his coin and touched his hat, with a +husky murmur of:</p> + +<p>"'Ch obliged, mum! 'Ch obliged!"</p> + +<p>Forbes kept his for a lucky piece—the first keepsake +he had had from her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IF Persis and the others were rejoicing in their emancipation +from formalities too familiar, Forbes was glad +that he had escaped them for the reverse reason. Hospitality +had been dispensed on a lavish scale at his own +home in the South before his father's death, but the servants +there were negroes, slaves, or descendants of slaves, +and he knew just the right mixture of affection and tyranny +to administer to them. But where servile white foreigners, +with their curious humilities and pomposities, bowed +heads and elevated eyebrows, he had not learned just how +much to demand and how much to concede.</p> + +<p>He was glad that there was no valet to unpack his +things, for he was afraid that his secret wardrobe might +not pass such experienced inspection. He laid out his +own pajamas, brushes, and clean things against the +morning.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck, who shared the same bathroom with Forbes, +came in to borrow a match for his pipe, noted Forbes' +industry, and quoted one of the few classics that he still +read—Rabelais: "Panurge had it right when he said, 'I +am never so well served as when I am my own valet.'"</p> + +<p>"Is this your first experience as your own man?" said +Forbes.</p> + +<p>"I should say not!" Ten Eyck snorted, with a cloud of +smoke. "I've roughed it as rough as any rough-neck +going, Forbesy."</p> + +<p>Forbes, from the experience of a campaigner, a wilderness +hiker, lifted an eyebrow of patronizing incredulity. +Ten Eyck retorted:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You needn't grin. I don't mean any of this roughing +<i>de luxe</i>. I had the real thing. I quarreled with the +governor once. I was hitting it up pretty hard, and he +gave me a call. I told him I didn't need his dirty money; +I could earn my own, and I swore I'd never ask him for +a cent. I lit out for the Wild and Woolly. What I took +with me went fast. I couldn't get a job I'd look at; and +by the time I was ready to look at any job I could get, +nobody would look at me. Finally they took me on as +unskilled labor in the construction camp of a railroad. I +slept in cattle-cars, or on the ground, or in wooden bunks +with Swedes and Finns, and Huns and coons, and other +swine in the adjoining styes. I fought 'em, too, when I +had to. Later I waited on the table in a cheap hashery.</p> + +<p>"God knows where I'd have ended if my dear old dad +hadn't got so homesick he put the Pinkertons on my trail. +And when he found me he apologized and begged me +to come back. And I very graciously accepted. I had +had all the poverty I needed for a lifetime. Hereafter, +Forbesy, I'm for the nap on the velvet and the plush +on the peach. I tell you, Forbesy, we millionaires may +have our little troubles, but we escape the worst of 'em, +eh John D.?"</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd cut out that talk about my being a +millionaire," Forbes broke in, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Millionaire is a newspaper term," Ten Eyck explained, +"for anybody who is worth more than a few thousand +dollars."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not worth anything and never shall be," +Forbes confessed. "I'm not rich at all. I've nothing +but a few hundred dollars and my picayune salary."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck took the great denial without emotion. +"Then I congratulate you on being one of the poor but +honest, instead of the criminal rich."</p> + +<p>"I'm poor, but I'm not honest," Forbes said; "I'm +obtaining courtesy under false pretenses."</p> + +<p>"Rot!" said Ten Eyck. "Money couldn't buy what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +you're getting, and the lack of it couldn't lose what you've +gained. They like you. You belong. That's all there +is to it."</p> + +<p>"I wonder."</p> + +<p>"Of course that's all. What does anybody here care +how much you've got or haven't got, so long as you're +congenial and aren't proposing to marry anybody."</p> + +<p>Forbes lifted his head with a quick, startled movement +that did not escape Ten Eyck, who pretended to misunderstand.</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you really are after Mrs. Neff or the little +Neffkin, there might be a call for a show-down of bankbooks."</p> + +<p>"I'd be just as much obliged if you people would drop +that joke about my courting Mrs. Neff," Forbes grumbled. +Ten Eyck was patient; his voice fell to a deep and earnest +tone:</p> + +<p>"What I say goes along the line, Forbesy. You were +good to me when I was sick in Manila. Don't you go and +get sick here. You told me what I mustn't eat and +drink and wear out there, and I want to warn you against +the dangers of this place. There's a tropics right here, +too, with deadly miasmas and mosquitoes that buzz +strange things and sting you full of delirious fevers. +Don't fall in love too far, Forbesy. I like you mighty +well and—naming no names—I like her mighty well, +but don't get false notions in your head, and don't put +false notions in hers."</p> + +<p>"About my money, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Umm-humm."</p> + +<p>"You think that money would make a difference to +her?"</p> + +<p>"Hah!" Ten Eyck snorted. "Would water make any +difference to a fish?"</p> + +<p>"But if she loved—"</p> + +<p>"My boy, you can keep a mighty sweet canary in a +mighty little cage, and it will sing away like mad and be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +very fond of you; but you can't keep a bird of paradise +there—or a sea-gull—can you?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon not," said Forbes.</p> + +<p>"It isn't the fault of the bird of paradise, either, is +it?"</p> + +<p>Forbes shook his head and sighed: "It's the fault of +the man that puts it in the cage."</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe he means well. He may be crazy about +the bird, just crazy to keep it near him, but—he can't. +That's all, he can't. It'll beat itself to death or break +loose."</p> + +<p>"Unless he lets it go," said Forbes.</p> + +<p>"That's it! You understand me, don't you, old man?"</p> + +<p>"I get you, Steve."</p> + +<p>"And you won't feel too hard about it, will you? +There's a lot of other birds besides the big ones. There's +nothing cozier than a little canary—is there?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon not," said Forbes, dismally.</p> + +<p>"And there's a lot of them to be had. And some of +them are very pretty."</p> + +<p>They sat and smoked a long while. Then Ten Eyck +yawned, and gripped Forbes' shoulder hard and went +out, pausing to look at him sadly. For his good night +he dropped into a cockney quotation: "'Wot I meanter +s'y, Pip, is: allus the best o' friends?'"</p> + +<p>He ended with a querying inflection, and Forbes echoed +it with a period:</p> + +<p>"Allus the best o' friends."</p> + +<p>He sat smoking his cigar till it was gone. Then he +made ready for bed, blew out the candle, raised the curtain, +and paused to stare blankly into the dark mass of a +green hill or a great cloud, whichever it was, piled up +against a sky sprinkled over with a powder of little stars. +Among them was one planet whose name he did not know. +As he watched, it moved with imperceptible stealth out of +his sight behind the hill.</p> + +<p>He gave up Persis as completely as he gave up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +planet. A few days ago he did not know her name. A +few days more and she would have slipped from his sky.</p> + +<p>He was so tired, so full of the need of sleep, that despair +was only another kind of night, black but blessed, +without ecstasy, but void of torment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE only dream that Forbes knew that night—or remembered, +at least—was a dream of his latest garrison, +and the same bugle humming like the single nagging +morning fly that frets a sleeper awake. It was warily intoning +its old "I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I +can't get 'em up in the morning."</p> + +<p>He leaped from his bed, and was astonished to find +himself standing in a strange room with an open window +facing an unknown landscape. He screwed his fists into +his eyes boyishly before he realized his whereabouts.</p> + +<p>At night he had seen his room in vast shadows clouded +about a meek candle. The window had shown him only +a blur of gloom against a sky of star-dust.</p> + +<p>Now he found himself in a sumptuously furnished chamber, +whose window framed a scene of royally ordered +beauty—a great lawn as level and almost as spacious as +a parade-ground, and bordered with a marble balustrade +that seemed to run on forever regardless of expense. +Marble statues and bronzes and fountains were here and +there. And up a noble hill a stairway, as beautiful as a +sea-gull's wings, soared to a parked space where a little +marble temple sheltered an image which he judged to be +Cupid's.</p> + +<p>Beyond the big hill reared aloft a primeval forest which +the sunrise wind was shaking. The tips of the topmost +trees were crimsoned, as if roses had bloomed at last on +pines. The climbing sun had just reached them, its rays +climbing down the hill as itself climbed the east.</p> + +<p>Forbes crept back to bed, but only to reproach himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +with sloth. He could not afford to miss a sunrise such +as this would be. There would be occasions enough for +sleep; but he was going to leave the Enslee Eden this +very day forever. The flaming sword of gold would keep +him from re-entering the Paradise he had got into as a +boy crawls under a circus tent.</p> + +<p>He flung himself from the alien linen and mahogany, +and, hastening into the bathroom, stepped into the tub, +drew the circular curtain around him quietly not to waken +his neighbor, Ten Eyck, and turned the little wheels +marked "shower" and "needle" and "cold," and received +the responding rains. There was no question that they +were cold.</p> + +<p>But the reaction was a jubilee in every artery, and he +dressed with eagerness for whatever the day might bring. +He opened his door softly and went down the twilight of +the stairway like an escaping thief. The servantless +tenants had neglected to bolt and chain the outside door. +He swung it back and stepped out.</p> + +<p>He glanced with admiring awe at the dew-pebbled +lawn, the colonnades, and the cloisters, but hastened to +the eastern side to watch the day breaking over the sky-lines +of Westchester. The scene was Alpine with the Alps +removed, and the green herds of foothills left. Across a +marble-walled pool stood a family of birches, and held +the red sun prisoner in a web of green leaves and white +boughs. The light that shot through them played upon +shrubs and trees and walks arranged according to the +highest canons of the landscaping art, taking nature's +scenario and dramatizing it.</p> + +<p>One imperial group of lilac-trees seemed to hold torches +up for the sun to kindle. They blazed with purple +flame.</p> + +<p>Forbes thought: "Those are the lilacs Enslee loves and +owns. This is Enslee's heaven. That is Enslee's sun. +And she is Enslee's, too." Then, with all the bravery and +optimism the dawn could lavish, he felt: "Well, she be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>longs +here; I don't. She needs these things. I can't +get 'em for her. So it's good-by, Persis, and no harm +done."</p> + +<p>He was sure that Enslee would never know of the kiss +he had stolen from Enslee's property. And he was sure +that Enslee would never miss a certain lilac cluster whose +grace and color especially caught Forbes' fancy. He +plucked it. Just as it snapped in his hand and flung a +fragrant dew upon his face he heard another slight sound +above. He glanced up.</p> + +<p>The vision he saw smote him with beauty like a thunderbolt, +and knocked him Saul-wise backward off the high +horse of jaunty resolution into a new religion.</p> + +<p>At an upper window, a few paces from where Forbes +stood, Persis leaned out like another blessed damosel looking +downward at the sun. It kindled her eyes as it +kindled the lilacs, and she frowned a little against it. +She did not see Forbes as her drowsy gaze swept the hills. +She was not there, however, to adore the dawn. It had +troubled her sleep, and she wanted to shut it out. Her +hands were tugging drowsily at one of the blinds, but it +was held by a catch in the wall. She must lean far out +to release it.</p> + +<p>The very homeliness of her motive and the act made +her the more appealing to Forbes. A creamy nightcap of +lace and bow-knots was all askew on her tousled hair, and +a long loop of it slid down into her bosom as she bent far +forward. She had not paused even to throw on a shawl, +and her nightgown was so vaporous a drapery that it +hardly mattered where it clung or lapsed.</p> + +<p>Forbes blushed for her, but gazed entranced while she +fumbled at the lock till it yielded. Then she reached out +for the other shutter and stared forth into the sun, stared +between her white arms, outstretched like the wings of +an angel at a window in the sky.</p> + +<p>Now Forbes knew that he loved her irretrievably. He +would storm the clouds to win her. He could afford a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +home with a pair of shutters, and she could close them +against the sun and be as snug as a cuckoo in a clock.</p> + +<p>After all, she was no bird of paradise, no sea-gull. +She was just a fascinating sleepy-head pouting at the +morning for interfering with her dreams.</p> + +<p>He was so resolved upon winning her that he counted +her already his, and, with a gesture like throwing up his +cap, flung the lilacs he held straight at her. They missed +her, but they caught her eye, and she followed them down +to where he darted to catch them for another cast.</p> + +<p>When he looked up again the blinds were shut. He +was alone in the world, his lilacs and his heart barred out +and rejected. She had retreated to Enslee's stronghold +and shuttered herself in.</p> + +<p>Forbes turned away to exile in a world of gloom. He +heard a little sound above, and whirled quickly. The +shutters were opening again. He saw her eyes. She was +frowning fiercely; but that was because of the sharp sun, +for her lips were smiling and she was whispering something.</p> + +<p>He hurried to the spot beneath her window. He saw +that her hair had been stuffed back into her nightcap. +She was muffled to the ears in a heavy bathrobe, so shapeless +and opaque that its big sleeves hid her very hands. +But she smiled through like an Eskimo angel. And she +was whispering in Eskimese.</p> + +<p>He could not understand her, and she could not hear +his whisper. They were afraid to waken the house with +louder talk. So he beckoned to her to come down. She +shook her head. He insisted with ardent gesticulation at +the beauty of the scene. She shook her head so violently +that her cap fell off. She clutched at it, and her hair fell +all about her. He caught the cap as it drifted down like +a tired butterfly. She brushed her hair back and pleaded +for the cap. He shook his head and tossed her the lilacs. +She refused to take them, and put out her hands for the +cap. He beckoned her again to come down, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +frowned ferociously. Then, at length, she smiled and +nodded and turned away.</p> + +<p>He waited, afraid to walk because the gravel crunched +alarmingly. He could see the gardener's cottage down +the hill, and he was glad that no one was stirring there; +not a thread of smoke spun from the chimney.</p> + +<p>After he had waited for a tiny eternity he heard her +snap her fingers, and looked up to find her fully dressed, +all kempt and shiny-faced and precise. She held out beseeching +palms for her cap, but he pocketed it and commanded +her to descend. She left the window with a look +of angry amusement, and he knew that she was yielding +to his orders.</p> + +<p>It was his first command, and she had obeyed it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FOR convincing the human heart there is no argument +like a parable or analogy, and there is no more +worthless proof to the mind. So long as Persis could be +called a bird of paradise, too rich for a canary cage, or a +sea-gull, too wild, or a planet unattainable, Forbes admitted +that his hopes of winning her and keeping her were +foolish. He gave her up. So much for the metaphors. +But when he saw her at the window in the daylight, and +saw, not a sea-gull nor a planet, but just a pretty, drowsy +girl with rumpled hair, he tossed aside all the arguments +by parable and analogy, as candle-ends unfit for sunshine. +She was only a woman, and he was all of a man, and this +was America, and, by George Washington, he would have +her to wife!</p> + +<p>He would begin the day right with a wholesome morning +smack. He tiptoed along the grass around to the door, +and met her in the living-room. And as soon as he met +her he set his arms about her. But she was almost sullen +as she pushed him away.</p> + +<p>"I won't have it!" she said, with a harshness that +shocked him. "It's too early in the morning. And I +don't like it. And I don't want gossip set going. And +you must be doubly circumspect."</p> + +<p>He fell back, baffled, and dropped his eyes in discontent. +He saw that her little high boots were sprawling open. +He smiled at the homely touch again.</p> + +<p>"If you're so circumspect," he said, "you'd better +button your shoes."</p> + +<p>"I forgot to bring up a button-hook," she laughed, "and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +when I bent over with a hairpin I got so sleepy that I +nearly fell back in bed."</p> + +<p>"Permit me," he urged.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you!"</p> + +<p>"You can't walk with 'em falling off like that," he insisted. +"A hairpin, please."</p> + +<p>She took one from her hair, and he dropped to one +knee. He could not seem to find the right position to +work from. After hunching about from position to position +he said:</p> + +<p>"I reckon your feet are put on the wrong way."</p> + +<p>"Thanks."</p> + +<p>"For being buttoned, I mean."</p> + +<p>"My maid buttons them every morning."</p> + +<p>"Tell me how on earth she gets at your foot?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I'll button them myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, you won't. How do the shoe clerks manage +it?"</p> + +<p>She set her foot on the rung of a chair, and he went at +his task with all awkwardness. Her feet were small, yet +the shoes were as tight as could be, and she winced as +the buttons ground or bit. But she choked back the +little cries of pain that rose to her lips.</p> + +<p>"Get away," she said; "you're killing me."</p> + +<p>But he would not surrender the privilege. He took +her foot on his knee and wrought with all care. The +hairpin was soon a twisted wreck, and he must have another, +and another.</p> + +<p>When the lowest buttons were done she checked him. +"That's enough! I'd rather my shoes fell off than my +hair. And that reminds me: where is my cap?"</p> + +<p>"In my pocket next my heart."</p> + +<p>"Give it to me, please."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to keep it."</p> + +<p>"By what right?"</p> + +<p>"Conquest and possession."</p> + +<p>"What if somebody should see you with it?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nobody shall."</p> + +<p>"Somebody always does. Nobody would believe it +fell out of a window!"</p> + +<p>"It fell straight into my heart."</p> + +<p>She gave him up with a shrug. "Good Lord, you men! +I don't suppose there's any coffee? I'm so used to having +it in bed before I get up that I'm faint."</p> + +<p>"I could make you some, if I knew where the coffee +was, and the coffee-pot, and if there were any fire."</p> + +<p>"Let's look into the kitchen."</p> + +<p>She knew the way, and led him into a great food-studio—a +place to delight a chef with its equipment and +an artist with its coppers.</p> + +<p>But the range was as cold as its white-glazed chimney. +They cast about for fuel, and found that Prout had fetched +kindling and coal the afternoon before.</p> + +<p>Forbes soon had a fire snapping under one lid, and +Persis hunted through cupboards and closets till she +discovered a coffee-pot, evidently belonging to the +servants' dining-room, and a canister half full of +coffee.</p> + +<p>"I haven't the faintest idea how much of that goes in, +have you?" she said, helplessly. He nodded and made +the measurements deftly.</p> + +<p>"Where did you learn so much?" she asked, with a +primeval woman's first wonder at a cave-man's first blaze +and first cookery.</p> + +<p>"A soldier ought to be able to build a fire and make a +cup of coffee, oughtn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," she shrugged, "I always forget that you're a +soldier. I've never seen you in uniform. You never tell +me anything about yourself. I always think of you as +just one of us loafers."</p> + +<p>"It's mighty pleasant to be building a fire for you—for +just us," he maundered.</p> + +<p>"It is fine, isn't it?" she chuckled, with glistening eyes. +"Rather reversing the usual, though, for idiotic woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +to stand by while strong man boils the coffee—or are you +baking it? I might be getting the dishes."</p> + +<p>"I'd be willing to do this every morning—for you—for +us," he ventured, his heart thumping at its own +dauntlessness.</p> + +<p>She evaded the implied proposal as she ransacked a +cabinet. "I fancy it would rather lose its charm in time. +As a regular thing, I like to see breakfast brought up on +a tray by a nice-looking maid."</p> + +<p>She brought out a perilous, double arm-load of cups and +saucers, and a sugar-bowl.</p> + +<p>"This is the service china, I suppose. You could drive +nails with it."</p> + +<p>He stared at her with idolatry. She was so variously +beautiful; at the theater, the opera, the luncheon, here +in a country kitchen—everywhere somebody else, and +everybody of her beautiful. His hands went out to seize +her again, but she tumbled the crockery crackingly on the +table and waved a cup at him. "Stand back, or I'll +brain you with this. There's no cream. I suppose even +the cows aren't up yet. And I can't find any butter—or +any bread—just these tinned biscuits."</p> + +<p>They sat at the kitchen table. The coffee was not +good, really; but she found it amusing, and he thought +it was ambrosia—Mars and Venus at breakfast in an +Olympian dining-room. He told her something of the +sort, and implied once more that he longed to make the +arrangement permanent.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd quit proposing before breakfast," she +said. "I feel very material in the morning, anyway, and +I'm having a bully time. I'm feeling far too sensible to +listen to any nonsense about the simple life. I can enjoy +a bit of rough road as well as anybody. I can turn in +and work or do without, or dress in rags—anything for +a picnic—for a while. But as a regular thing—ugh! To +get breakfast once in somebody's else kitchen at an ungodly +hour with a captivating stranger—glorious! But to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +get up every morning—every every morning, rain or +shine, cold or hot, sleepy or sick or blue—no, thank you!"</p> + +<p>"You think the rich are happier than the poor?"</p> + +<p>"Of course they are. That's why everybody wants +to be rich."</p> + +<p>"But the rich aren't contented."</p> + +<p>"Oh, contented! Nobody's contented except the +blind, and hopeless invalids. Contentment is a question +of being a sport. There's a lot of good losers that will grin +if they have to walk home in the rain from the races, and +there are a lot of what they call 'bum sports' that throw +their winnings on the ground because the odds weren't +longer. But don't tell me that there's any special joy +in being poor. If I had to be poor, I suppose I'd put the +best face I could on it. That happens to be my nature. +It's the good sports making the best of poverty that cause +so much talk; but all the poor and middlers that I've +met have hated it and envied the rich.</p> + +<p>"You see, the rich can buy everything the poor have, +but the poor can buy hardly anything the rich have. +Sometimes my father goes out in the field on his farm +and tosses hay, or beds down the horses, or chops dead +trees. Sometimes he likes to have just a bowl of milk +and some crackers for his supper. But when he wants +something else he can have it—at least, he always has +been able to—up to now."</p> + +<p>A little shiver agitated her like a flaw of wind running +along a calm lake.</p> + +<p>"It's cold and damp in here," she said. "Let's get +out in the sunshine and quit talking poverty. We're +neither of us poor—yet."</p> + +<p>She rose and moved out to the kitchen porch, and, +round the house, up a sweep of stairs to the main terrace.</p> + +<p>"Look," she cried, "isn't it wonderful? Isn't it worth +while? It costs thousands of dollars just to make that +lawn smooth, and thousands more for the marble balustrades, +and the fountains are a fortune, and the sunken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +garden—the poor can't have a glimpse of it! They don't +know it exists. Even Mr. Enslee's cook hardly knows it's +here; he doesn't permit any of the servants except the +house staff to come out front. Isn't it a shame? But +don't you love it? Isn't it heavenly under your feet? +My eyes fly over it like birds. It's splendid to have tea +out here in the summer, and wear long sweeping gowns +and picture-hats, and have delicious things brought to +you on the finest of china. Oh, I never was meant for a +poor man's daughter. Even if I feed the chickens or pat +the cattle, I like to do it as Marie Antoinette did at the +Petit Trianon just for a contrast—an <i>hors d'œuvre</i>."</p> + +<p>Forbes thought of the bird of paradise and the sea-gull +again, and he doubted the value of his cage again. +They sauntered across the lawn and up the stairs. +He took her arm to help her, but she shook her +head.</p> + +<p>"Please! Now, tell me all about yourself."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to tell."</p> + +<p>"There must be. I've a right to hear it. Think of it, +you've kissed me once, and I didn't fight. I let you. +Good Lord, I nearly kissed you!" His arms rushed toward +her; but she frowned. "Don't make me go back. +I was saying, you've kissed me, and we've had a terrible +escapade in a strange kitchen, and I hardly know your +first name. So you're a soldier." He nodded. "West +Point?" He nodded. "Did you ever get in a real +fight?" He nodded. "Where?"</p> + +<p>"Cuba. Philippines."</p> + +<p>"You were in the Spanish War? Really! I didn't +know you were so old."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't so old then. I'm very ancient now."</p> + +<p>She mused aloud: "They say a husband should be ten +years older than his wife."</p> + +<p>The implication enraptured him. It showed that she +was at least toying with the thought. "Then there's no +hope for me. I'm far too old for you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But I'm very ancient," she said. "I ought to have +been married years ago."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long. There's no +need for further delay."</p> + +<p>"Are you proposing again? The man's a regular phonograph +with only one old broken record! So you've been +in battles and battles. Were you afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Afterward. I suppose it's because I'm slow and +stupid: but I don't usually get scared till the trouble's +over. Then I'm sick as a dog and as frightened as a +girl."</p> + +<p>"That's something like me. Only I get terribly scared +of little things that don't count. A mouse or a spider +or anything crawly—ugh! is that a caterpillar?"</p> + +<p>She shrank back against him in a palsy of repugnance +at about an inch of moving fuzz on a rhododendron. He +held her with one hand, and with the other broke off the +twig and cast the vermin into space. She put his arm +away, and said:</p> + +<p>"You are brave!"</p> + +<p>"St. George and the dragon," he smiled.</p> + +<p>"In those battles of yours," she resumed, "were you +ever by any chance wounded or killed or anything?"</p> + +<p>"I was never killed entirely," he answered, "but I +stopped a few bits of lead."</p> + +<p>She shuddered and caught his arm with a rush of sympathy +none the less fierce for being belated.</p> + +<p>"Wounded! You were wounded?"</p> + +<p>He put his hand on hers where it lay on his sleeve. +"Yes, you blessed thing. Does it make any difference +to you?"</p> + +<p>She drew her hand away gently. "I hate to think of—of +anybody getting hurt. Did it hurt—to be wounded?"</p> + +<p>"Afterward. I didn't notice it much at the time—except +when I was shot in the mouth."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, how?"</p> + +<p>"I was yelling something to my sergeant, and a bullet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +went right in and out here." He put his finger on his +cheek.</p> + +<p>"Great heavens! I thought it was a dimple. I rather +liked it."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm glad I got it."</p> + +<p>She writhed with pain for his sake.</p> + +<p>"Did it hurt—hideously?"</p> + +<p>"Not half as much as the two pellets I got in my side. +They probed for them till I made them stop, partly because +I wasn't enjoying it and partly because probing +kills more than cartridges."</p> + +<p>"How did they get them out, then?"</p> + +<p>"They didn't."</p> + +<p>She stared at him wild-eyed.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say that you're standing there +with a couple of bullets in you? Why, you're positively +uncanny."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, if it disturbs you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please! You're wonderful. But aren't you +afraid they'll kill you—turn green or something?"</p> + +<p>"They're neatly surrounded by now with aseptic sacs, +the surgeon tells me. I'd forgotten all about them till +you reminded me."</p> + +<p>"And they never pain you?"</p> + +<p>"The only wound I'm suffering now is from the arrow +of this sharp-shooter."</p> + +<p>They were standing in the little temple, between them +a little marble rascal with a bow and arrow. Persis put her +hand to her heart. He mistook the gesture and asked, +with sudden zest:</p> + +<p>"He didn't hit you, too, did he?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of you," she murmured, staring at +him with wet eyes. "Wounded and bleeding, your +flesh all torn, and the surgeons gouging in the wounds. +Oh!"</p> + +<p>She toppled backward and sank on a marble bench before +he could help her. He stared at her in bewildered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +unbelief. He understood that she was nearly aswoon +because he had suffered once.</p> + +<p>"Why, God bless your wonderful sweet soul!" he +gasped, and would have knelt and clasped his arms +around her. But even in the swimming of her senses +her prudence was on guard, and his indiscretion restored +her to herself like a dash of water.</p> + +<p>"I beg you to be careful," she said. "You are perfectly +visible from the house."</p> + +<p>"But nobody's awake. The blinds are closed."</p> + +<p>"There are always eyes behind blinds."</p> + +<p>"Then let them see me tell you how much I—"</p> + +<p>"Not here!" she gasped. "Don't tell me that here."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Enslee built this little temple to this little Cupid +to propose to me in."</p> + +<p>"And did he?" Forbes asked, in a voice that rattled. +"Did he propose to you?"</p> + +<p>"Regularly."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">SHE studied Forbes closely and laughed aloud at the +almost nausea he plainly felt.</p> + +<p>"I thought that would shock the nonsense out of you," +she triumphed. "Now let's be sensible while the sun +shines, and get better acquainted. Tell me more about +you, and I'll tell you some awful things about me."</p> + +<p>She sauntered on in an arch and riant humor. He +resented it, and yet he followed her, hating this mood of +hers, yet finding her more precious as he found her more +difficult. If he had known women better he would have +guessed, or "reckoned," that her very effort to make herself +difficult was a proof that she was not really so difficult +as she would have him believe. The one who takes such +joy in being pursued is not entirely unwilling to be caught.</p> + +<p>She quizzed him about his life, his home, his earlier +loves. She demanded descriptions of every sweetheart +he had cherished, from the first chub of infancy to the +girl he left behind in Manila; and she said she hated them +all impartially.</p> + +<p>She told him of her life: endowed with every material +comfort, yet with a vague unhappiness for something or +somebody—"perhaps it was for you," she added, but +spoke teasingly. She had had nurses and governesses +and maids from her first day on earth. She had been to +school in France, and traveled round the world; she had +been presented at the courts of England and Italy, Germany +and Russia; had visited at castles and châteaux. +Her sister was in England. She had married a title and +was unhappy; but for the matter of that, so were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +wives of most of the stanch Americans she knew, rich +and poor.</p> + +<p>Persis had had flirtations of cosmopolitan variety. Her +ambition was to go on skimming the cream off of life. +She had given up the hope of ever loving, at least with +abandonment. There was too much else in the world. +She had been so thoroughly and incessantly schooled in +self-control that she doubted if even her heart could forget +the rules of conduct. She did not want love to make +the fool of her it had made of so many of her friends, and +of the people she read about in newspapers and books.</p> + +<p>She never took much enjoyment in adventures, anyway, +she said, because her imagination was always busy +with the appearance of her acts. She found herself considering: +"How will this look? What gossip will that +start?" She hated herself for the cold, calculating instinct; +but she could not rid herself of it.</p> + +<p>"This very minute," she admitted, "my fun is half +spoiled by thinking of what those people down there in +the house will say if they learn that I've been up here +with you? Nothing could be more harmless than a stroll +before breakfast in a highly illuminated forest, but they'd +talk and—well, I'd rather they wouldn't."</p> + +<p>She led the protesting Forbes homeward again, down +the long flight of steps. The most he could exact was the +promise of another walk together—sometime when it +could be arranged without attracting attention or detracting +from the duties toward the host and his other +guests.</p> + +<p>As they started across the lawn, whose dew the risen +sun had pretty well imbibed, they met the gardener. +Prout was yawning, and when he took off his hat he +looked sleepy enough to fall over into it.</p> + +<p>"You folks been up all night?" he asked, with a drowsy +surliness.</p> + +<p>Persis shook her head and smiled. "It's you that have +overslept."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>He changed the subject abruptly. "I just been buildin' +a fire for Miss Mather."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, is she awake?" Persis gasped.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Prout, "as to that, she's not wot you'd +exackly call awake, but she's up an' doin' in the kitchin."</p> + +<p>While the gardener shuffled away to play valet to his +flowers, Persis stood irresolute.</p> + +<p>"I hope Winifred hasn't seen us," she said. "The +kitchen and the nursery are both to the east. We'll +take a chance. You go on into the kitchen and help her, +and I'll telephone down from my room. <i>Au 'voir!</i>"</p> + +<p>She opened the outer door ever so slightly and oozed +through the slit as narrowly as Bernhardt used to when +she had murdered Scarpia. Forbes dawdled a few moments, +then went into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>He found Winifred playing the part of cook with a +vengeance. Her hair was disheveled, her sleeves rolled +back, and her face smudged from her smudgy fingers. +She had assumed a cook's prerogative of wrath. The +moment she saw Forbes she began with a savage, "Oh, it's +you! And who's been littering up my clean kitchen?"</p> + +<p>"I took the liberty of making myself a little coffee," +said Forbes.</p> + +<p>"There are two cups."</p> + +<p>"I made two cups," said Forbes; and she was too busy +to notice the evasion.</p> + +<p>"Then, since you've had your breakfast," she snapped, +"you can help me get something for the rest. You'd +better put this on."</p> + +<p>Like another Omphale, she fastened a womanish apron +on Hercules, and set him at uncongenial tasks, retrieving +butter, milk, salt, and eggs.</p> + +<p>After a time there was a buzz, and a little hopper fell +in a box on the wall. Winifred went to the house telephone +and called out:</p> + +<p>"Well! H'lo, Perse, what you doing awake so early? +Insomnia? No, I will not send your breakfast up on a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +tray! You can come down and get it. My little snojer +man is helping me."</p> + +<p>She hung up the ear-piece and turned to Forbes with +her broad smile.</p> + +<p>"A cook has no chance to entertain her gempman +friends. The minute I get a policeman in here somebody +rings."</p> + +<p>She kept him wretchedly ill at ease by more of the +same banter, which he hardly knew how to take. And +she seized his arm with a gesture of culinary coquetry +just as Persis sauntered in. Forbes was horrified to note +a look of anger in Persis' eyes. He should have been +flattered. She greeted Winifred, and also Forbes, with +a discreet "Good morning!"</p> + +<p>"Good get-busy!" Winifred growled.</p> + +<p>"What can I do?" said Persis, helplessly.</p> + +<p>"For one thing, you can rout the other loafers out of +bed."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Use the telephone. Tell 'em the house is on fire."</p> + +<p>While Forbes fetched and carried at Winifred's beck +and call, Persis rang up the various rooms and conveyed +Winifred's orders. But her gentle voice carried no conviction, +and Winifred took her place at the instrument +and howled in her best cook lingo:</p> + +<p>"Get up and come down, or I'll quit you cold and lave +you to starve. It's scrambled eggs and bacon the marnin', +and no goods exchanged."</p> + +<p>She went back to the range, only to be called to the +telephone again. Mrs. Neff was imploring a brief respite. +Water boiling over and scuttering in hot hailstones +from the stove brought Winifred back with a screech. +She upbraided Persis for a useless scullery maid and +threatened Forbes with a skillet. She was enjoying herself +tremendously. She ordered Persis to set the table +in the breakfast-room, but refused Forbes permission to +help her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>But he slipped away a little later, when she went to +rummage the ice-room. He found Persis drifting about +in a lake of golden sunshine, distributing delicate chinas +and looking like a moving figurine of bisque. There was +a pleasant clink of silver as she laid the knives and forks +and spoons, and he thought how wonderful she would be +in such a little home as he could offer her, how she would +grace the quarters at an army post. She smiled on him, +and her smile was sunshine. He went at her once more +with that rush of desire. She put up her hand to fend +him off, and he knocked a cup out of it.</p> + +<p>They knelt together to pick up the pieces. He began:</p> + +<p>"While I'm down here on my knees, I ask you again—" +She put her hand to her lips in warning, but he seized the +hand. She snatched it away and rose to her feet just as +Willie Enslee came in.</p> + +<p>Forbes, still on his knees, set busily to work picking +up the scattered petals of the china. He felt guilty as a +caught burglar, but the unsuspecting Willie paused on +the threshold to yawn. Willie was always yawning on +the threshold of discovery.</p> + +<p>"'Morning! 'Morning!" was his almost swallowed +greeting.</p> + +<p>"We just broke one of your cups," said Persis, "while +we were setting the table."</p> + +<p>"So long as you don't break the table, I suppose I'm +to be congratulated. Had a fearful time this morning +without my man. Had to fill my own tub, put own buttons +in, shave self—cut a map of Russia on face. Couldn't +get tie tied to save life. Persis, you'll have to help your +little Willie with his bib."</p> + +<p>So Persis knotted his scarf for him while Forbes grew +restive at the sight. Willie was proprietary in his tone, +and he clung drowsily to Persis' arm while her hands +hovered about his throat. But when the task was done +he toddled through the swinging-door to see what wreck +had been made of the kitchen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see!" said Persis, reproachfully, putting down +the silver very slowly. "You nearly got caught."</p> + +<p>"But what of it?" Forbes broke out. "I love you. +I'm not ashamed of my love or of you. I want you to be +my wife."</p> + +<p>The boyish manly sincerity of this convinced her and +filled her eyes with a morning haze.</p> + +<p>"You do? Really?" She moved on to the next place. +He followed her.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. Will you?"</p> + +<p>She continued slowly circling the table, with side trips +to the sideboard, and he followed with a great ado of +helping her. The two were making a slower job of it +than either would have required alone.</p> + +<p>"It's rather fun being proposed to while one is setting +the table," Persis murmured. "We're getting terribly +domestic already."</p> + +<p>"You'd be so beautiful domesticated," Forbes urged.</p> + +<p>"But so somebody else thinks—and we're on his +grounds." And since it was characteristic of Persis to +express a virtue in a sporting term, she shook her head. +"We're not playing strictly according to Hoyle. It's +not quite cricket."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Forbes. "And I—I dare you to +come outside—off the place."</p> + +<p>"All right. I will, the first chance I get."</p> + +<p>"The first chance you get to what?" said Mrs. Neff, +who appeared as suddenly as Cinderella's witch. And +she looked a trifle witchy this morning without the rejuvenating +spells of her maid. "I couldn't help overhearing, +but my eyes aren't open. I didn't see anything."</p> + +<p>Persis surprised Forbes and Mrs. Neff by her frankness.</p> + +<p>"I was saying I would take a long walk with Mr. Forbes +the first chance I get."</p> + +<p>"Good work!" said Mrs. Neff, quite earnestly. "I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +telling him what a love of a couple you two would +make."</p> + +<p>Persis turned on her in amazement. "You were telling +Mr. Forbes that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was. When a woman gets as old as I feel of +mornings, she has the right to be a matchmaker. You +two go on and work out your own salvation and I'll keep +Willie off the scent. If I could prevent Alice from marrying +Stowe Webb, and you from marrying Willie, I'd retire +on my laurels. I dote on conspiracies. That's where +Alice gets her knack for plots."</p> + +<p>This to her daughter, who sauntered in just in time to +receive the facer and gasp:</p> + +<p>"Why, mother, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can smell a mouse even if I can't trap it right +away. I know you telephone him and write him and all +that. I used to when I was your age. Only, I fooled +my mother and married the man I wanted to. If I'd +married the one she wanted me to, I'd be one of the richest +women on earth instead of a starving twice-widow +with a pack of children to drive to market."</p> + +<p>"Isn't she the most appalling mother a poor child +ever had?" Alice gasped. "Sometimes I think I ought +to take her over my knee and spank her."</p> + +<p>Forbes and Persis paid little heed to the usual duel of +these two women. They were thinking of the complexity +of outside interference in their own program of quiet +communion.</p> + +<p>Persis' mind was full of reproof for Mrs. Neff; but she +was silenced by the presence of Alice, and Ten Eyck's +appearance, and the irruption of Winifred with a great +tray of egg-gold and bacon-bronze.</p> + +<p>It was an informal gathering at that breakfast-table. +Important articles of toilet had been forgotten, and there +were no maids or men to repair the omissions. But too +great correctness would have been an anachronism at +Winifred's table. Everybody had gone to bed early and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +tired, and had slept longer and better than usual. Doing +without was a new game to these people, and they made +a picnic-ground of the breakfast-room.</p> + +<p>Even Willie tried to romp with his guests, but he lacked +the genius for hilarity, and his jokes consisted principally +of repeating exactly what somebody else had just said, +then laughing as hard as he could.</p> + +<p>He told Persis that he wanted to show her the farm, +and the new fountain in the sunken gardens, and he told +her in such a way that the others felt themselves cordially +invited not to go along. But they were used to tactlessness +from Willie, and they merely winked mutually.</p> + +<p>Willie seemed to feel the winks in the air, and to realize +that he had not done exactly the perfect thing, so he reverted +to his favorite witticism: "You take Mrs. Neff, +Mr. Forbes" (he was getting the name right at times now). +"You take Mrs. Neff and go where you please. You turtle-doves +will find several arbors and summer-houses and +lovers' lanes scattered around the place. I'll tell the +gardener and his men to keep out of the way. Come +along, Persis."</p> + +<p>Forbes watched them off with a look of jealousy that +did not escape Mrs. Neff. She put a kindly hand on his +arm.</p> + +<p>"After all, he owns the place; he's the host—a poor +thing, but our host. She'd rather be with you, and you'd +rather be with her; but you'll have to wait. You'll probably +get plenty of each other soon enough."</p> + +<p>Winifred detailed Alice and Ten Eyck to wash the +breakfast dishes. The turn of the others would come +later. Persis and Mrs. Neff were to make the beds.</p> + +<p>"Winifred was born to be a poor man's wife," said Mrs. +Neff, as she led Forbes across the lawn. "She dotes on +cooking and pot-walloping and mending, and she had to +be born with a mint of money, and the only man that ever +cared for her is Bob Fielding, who will hardly let her lift +her teacup to her lips, for fear she'll overwork herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now Persis is as dainty as a cat, and as hard to boss. +And she has a fatal attraction for men who can't afford +to keep her. Willie's the only suitor she ever had that +has more money than she could spend. And I think she +likes him less than anything on earth except work."</p> + +<p>Forbes was tempted to confess to Mrs. Neff what he +had divulged to Ten Eyck, but he postponed the miserable +business. It was an uncongenial company for proclaiming +one's poverty.</p> + +<p>The surroundings were as tempting as Naboth's vineyard +was to David. He understood why men grew unscrupulous +in the hunt for great wealth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff led Forbes about the place, which she knew +well. But the beauties were only torments to him. +Below the climbing marble stairway to the temple there +was a broken stairway winding down the hill. It meandered +like the dry bed of a stream, between brick walls, +bordered with flowers, with now and then a resting-place, +or some quaint niche where a little statue smiled or a +fountain trilled and tinkled.</p> + +<p>At two stages of the descent there were circular levels +with ornate shelters and aristocratic plants. From the +lowest shelf there was only a path dropping down the +long hill to a distant wall; beyond this a ragged woods like +a mob of poor shut out from a rich man's place.</p> + +<p>"That wall is the end of the Enslee estate," said Mrs. +Neff.</p> + +<p>"There is an end to it, then?" said Forbes, more bitterly +than he intended.</p> + +<p>"There's an end to everything, my boy," Mrs. Neff +brooded, with a far-off bitterness of her own—"an end to +wealth and love and—everything."</p> + +<p>"Who owns that place off there, I wonder?" said +Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Nobody in particular," said Mrs. Neff. "Some old +cantankerous absentee that won't sell. Do you want to +buy it to be near Mrs. Enslee? Willie has offered him all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +sorts of money, but he won't let go. You might have +better luck."</p> + +<p>Forbes again ignored the assumption that he was +wealthy, and said:</p> + +<p>"There are things, then, that even the Enslee money +can't buy?"</p> + +<p>"Many things," said Mrs. Neff. "Persis' love, for +one, and Willie's own happiness, and a foot more of height +and a certain charm, and—but aren't we stupid and cynical +this beautiful morning?"</p> + +<p>"Are we?" Forbes smiled.</p> + +<p>"We are, and I have a right to be," said Mrs. Neff. +"But you haven't. You are not white-haired, nor old, +nor a woman."</p> + +<p>"Are those the only causes for unhappiness?"</p> + +<p>"They are three of the worst, and the most incurable."</p> + +<p>But Forbes was too young in his own anxieties to give +much importance to her ancient plaints, though she was +not too old to understand his. He was glancing upward +now and then to the little temple. It was visible from +here, though the two figures in it were small and blurred +with light.</p> + +<p>Forbes was sure that Enslee was proposing to Persis, +for he gesticulated, pointed at the landscape and the house. +He was evidently commending these to Persis, laying +them at her feet, begging her to become at once the +châtelaine of this splendor.</p> + +<p>Forbes wanted to abandon Mrs. Neff and fly to the +rescue of Persis. He wanted to break in on that proposal, +prove to her how much better he loved her than +Enslee did, how much greater happiness she could have +with him than with Enslee. But he made no move in +that direction. It was one of those simple things that +almost nobody can find the courage to do. He loitered +with Mrs. Neff, hating himself for a skulker.</p> + +<p>He could not know that he pleaded well enough at a +distance. His absence wrought for him against Willie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +Enslee's presence. Willie was indeed commending his +estate to Persis, urging her to marry him at once and +settle here for the summer, except what time they might +spend abroad or on the yacht, or his other palace at +Newport.</p> + +<p>But while he pleaded Persis was searching Enslee's +landscape for Forbes. The view had been entrancing +from the temple with Forbes at her side. Now she felt +that it was not after all so satisfying. The very fact that +Willie praised it brought up suspicion. She would prefer +to choose another landscape, one better suited to her and +Forbes, not a second-hand landscape built along some +other person's lines.</p> + +<p>It would be a joy for Forbes and her to pick out a hundred +acres or more—not too far from New York; perhaps +among the hunting and poloing colonies on Long Island. +While they were building they could cruise.</p> + +<p>But perhaps Forbes could not afford a yacht. She +must not run him into extravagances. Well, after all, the +suites <i>de luxe</i> on some of the ocean liners were not so bad, +with their own dining-saloons attached. By omitting +the yacht they could have a stunning town house. Mrs. +Jimmie Chives wanted to sell her place for a song, and +nearly every room in it was imported bodily from some +European castle or mansion. With a few changes it +could be made quite a habitable shack.</p> + +<p>And so, while Willie pleaded in his nagging way, her +own imagination was attorney for Forbes. Only it was +imagining a Forbes that did not exist, a fairly rich and +decently leisurely Forbes. Down below, looking up to +her with such eyes as lovers in hell cast on their beloveds +in heaven, was the real Forbes, poor, hard-worked, with +no financial prospects beyond a minute increase of wage +by slow promotion. And he had only a few days more of +leisure before he resumed the livery of the nation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">LUNCHEON was breakfast again with a few additions. +Winifred had lost the hang of the range, and +what successes she had were ruined by her inability to corral +the herd on time. The soup was salted beyond the +sanction of even the most amiable palate. The chickens +were guaranteed not to be resurrections from a cold-storage +tomb; but they would have been the better for a little +longer hanging and a little shorter cooking. The vegetables +had not been salted at all, nor warmed quite +through.</p> + +<p>"The average is perfect," was Ten Eyck's verdict.</p> + +<p>"And the salad's fine, Winifred," said Mrs. Neff, in +a desperate effort to console the despondent cook, who +retreated to the kitchen and cried a little more salt into +the soup.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck rubbed his sagging waistcoat and groaned:</p> + +<p>"This is the emptiest empty house-party I ever went +to."</p> + +<p>"It would have been a noble institution in Lent," +Persis sighed.</p> + +<p>"You would come," Willie snapped.</p> + +<p>"Thank heaven," Alice purred, "I have a five-pound +box of chocolates in my room."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff glared at her. "He'd better save his money. +Or has he an account at Maillard's? You can't live on +candy, you know."</p> + +<p>"It's quite as nourishing as the Congressional Record," +said Alice.</p> + +<p>"Deuce all!" cried Ten Eyck. "But family matters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +aside, we've got to do something about food. I've survived +the fireless and foodless cooking at breakfast and +luncheon, but the dinnerless dinner would finish me. +Winifred can afford to bant, I can't. I'm going to give +a party. We'll all dine over at the Port of Missing Men +and have dinner on me; that will get us through until +to-morrow at least."</p> + +<p>This was agreed upon with enthusiasm. Winifred was +tactfully proffered a vote of thanks and a vacation. There +remained only the afternoon to kill. Persis thought to +steal a few minutes with Forbes, and they struck out for +the sunken gardens, but Willie came panting after them +and constituted himself their guide.</p> + +<p>He was like one of those pests that can rob the Pitti +Palace of interest and make the Vatican an old barn. +He led them through the gardens, the greenhouses, the +stables, and the kennels. Here a little sea of beagles +flowed and frothed round Persis' feet. They were a relic +of the days before the hunting fever left Westchester +for Long Island. They were mad for exercise, and so were +the horses in the stables.</p> + +<p>"We must take these poor nags out for a run," said +Persis, looking at Forbes, who accepted with his eyes.</p> + +<p>"All right, we will. To-morrow morning," said Willie; +and Forbes resigned with a look.</p> + +<p>Unable to shake off Willie, Persis pleaded the need for +a little sleep and retreated to her room. Forbes wandered +about, puzzled at the appalling loneliness he could feel in +so beautiful a place with so many people around and only +one missing.</p> + +<p>Eventually, however, the sun, which had begun the day +with such ecstasy for him, began to approach the top of +the western hill, and the caravan set out for the Port of +Missing Men, which proved to be a little cottage of an +inn set upon the edge of a small mountain and surveying +a vast panorama.</p> + +<p>On the piazza the crowd dined well, and returned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +through the great park to the homeward roads, for when +they reached the Enslee bridge it was like coming home. +The wings of the motor had made it possible to run twenty-five +miles to dinner and twenty-five miles back in almost +negligible time; but the exultant speed of the journey +and the multitude of sights that had fled past fatigued +the mind like a long voyage, and it was once more a subdued +company that gathered before the living-room fireplace.</p> + +<p>Silence fell upon them all, and they sat once more +staring into the flames, each finding there the glittering +castles of desire.</p> + +<p>Prout came in with more logs of wood and tiptoed out, +shaking his head in stupefaction at this latest game of +these amazing people.</p> + +<p>At some vaguely later hour Persis rose and went into +the adjoining music-room. Forbes longed to follow, but +feared to move. She strummed a few inexpert chords +on the piano. Then she went to the victrola and searched +among the black disks. A little later she called out:</p> + +<p>"Everything in this house is last year's. There's not +a turkey-trot on the place, or a tango."</p> + +<p>A little later she spoke again, "Here's a bit of ancient +history." She cranked up the machine, set the needle +to the disk, and "The Beautiful Blue Danube" came +twanging forth from a scarred record that riddled the +melody with curious spatterings.</p> + +<p>The once world-victorious rhapsody had almost a dirge-like +tameness now; but it brought Willie to his feet, and +he began to circle the room with Persis. She drooped +over his inferior shoulders like a wilted flower.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck scooped Alice off the floor and danced in +double time. Forbes bowed to Winifred, but she waved +him away with a heavy hand. Mrs. Neff beckoned him.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather be second choice than a wallflower. That +music takes me back a thousand years."</p> + +<p>She glided with an old-time dignity. Forbes tried to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +keep his eyes from Persis and heed Mrs. Neff's reminiscences.</p> + +<p>"Waltzes, waltzes!" she wailed. "How much they +meant once to me. There are no dances like the old +dances."</p> + +<p>"There never were," said Forbes. "I reckon that +twenty years from now old folks will be shaking their +heads and telling how sweet and dignified the turkey-trot +was compared with the epileptic crawl and the +hydrophobia skedaddle they'll be doing then."</p> + +<p>"I reckon so," said Mrs. Neff. "I can just remember +when the polka was considered immoral."</p> + +<p>Other waltzes were played, but Willie's appetite for +them was quenched after the first. He sank into a chair +by the living-room table and took up a story in an old +magazine.</p> + +<p>Persis waltzed with Forbes more often than with the +others; but Willie never knew. In fact, it was not long +before his head grew heavier and heavier, and finally, +with his chin in his necktie, he slept.</p> + +<p>The dancing, the copious wine, and the sudden warmth +of the weather soon led to the opening of doors. From +the music-room one stepped out into a kind of cloister +opening on the lawn.</p> + +<p>Eventually Persis set a two-step record whirling on the +machine. Forbes asked her to dance with him. As they +were passing one of the doors a little gust of summer-night +air blew upon them so appealingly that Forbes +swung Persis across the sill and stepped out into the +cloister, where the moonlight streamed like a distant +searchlight.</p> + +<p>The music followed them, but muffled, by the pat of +their feet along the tiled floor. To silence this noise +Forbes danced across the margin of stone out upon the +smooth, short, silent grass. Persis made no resistance, +and he danced always a little deeper into the lawn, a +little farther from the house. He danced her round the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +inky plumes of a cluster of cedars. These shut out the +lights from the door. The music was quite lost here, +and Persis hummed the tune herself; seemed to croon +it into his very heart.</p> + +<p>The music must have stopped in the house long before +they knew it, and some one must have put on a disk in +whose hard-rubber surface was embedded the voice of +Sembrich singing a waltz-song of Chopin's.</p> + +<p>This angelic melody floated on the air as if it came +from nowhere and everywhere, and Forbes and Persis fell +into the swift rhythm of it. They must needs dance +furiously fast to keep up; but the music brought with +it some of its own resistless energy.</p> + +<p>Out here in this moon-world they seemed to be utterly +aloof from the earth. They seemed to whirl like +twin stars in a cosmic dance to the music of the spheres, +the song the stars sing together. The Milky Way was +but moonlit dew on the lawn of the sky. And they darted +between the planets in a divine rhythm on a vast +orbit, until at last a breathlessness of soul and body compelled +Persis to end the occult rite.</p> + +<p>The moonlight fell about her in a magic veil, and Forbes +could not let her go. He caught her closer to him. But +before his lips could brush her cheek, she broke his clasp +and said:</p> + +<p>"We must get back."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please!" he implored.</p> + +<p>"The others will wonder."</p> + +<p>"What of it?"</p> + +<p>"We can't afford to set them talking."</p> + +<p>"We can't afford to waste a night like this in a stuffy +room."</p> + +<p>"There will be other moonlight nights."</p> + +<p>"How do you know? We can't be sure."</p> + +<p>"The moon is pretty regular in its habits."</p> + +<p>"But we may not be alive. It may rain to-morrow. +And the day after I must be getting back to my post."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Really? Oh, that is too bad!" There was such deep +regret in her words that he took courage to say:</p> + +<p>"If we could only walk together a long, long distance! +Doesn't the moon seem to—to command you to march?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but—but my slippers are all wet with the dew."</p> + +<p>"You could change them."</p> + +<p>"And what would the others say?"</p> + +<p>"Must they know?"</p> + +<p>"How could they help knowing?"</p> + +<p>"If you told them all good night and went to your +room and changed your slippers, and came out later, and +I met you—"</p> + +<p>It was a very elaborate conspiracy for him, and she +gasped:</p> + +<p>"Do you think I'm quite mad?"</p> + +<p>"I know I am, or it seems that I'll go mad unless I +can be with you in this wonderful light."</p> + +<p>"It is wonderful, but—even if I were crazy enough to +do as you say you would spoil it all—you wouldn't be +good."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I would. I promise."</p> + +<p>"Solemnly?"</p> + +<p>"I solemnly promise that I will not annoy you. I will +not presume to—to kiss you unless you ask me to."</p> + +<p>"That ought to be safe enough," she laughed. "Well, +I'll think it over. And now we really must get back. +Alice and Murray are at the door looking this way."</p> + +<p>They returned slowly to the cloister, discussing the +beauty of the night and the brilliance of the moon. Persis +told on herself; confessed that she had been foolish enough +to dance on the grass, and her shoes and stockings were +drenched.</p> + +<p>Willie, who was partially awake, supplied the necessary +excuse for absence. He demanded that she change +at once and not risk pneumonia.</p> + +<p>"If I'm sent to my room I won't come back," said +Persis, and yawned convincingly. This set up a con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>tagion +of yawns. Everybody was instantly smitten with +sleepiness. There was no necessity to keep awake, and +they were all easy victims of the demands of long-deferred +sleep.</p> + +<p>There was some flurry over the nightcap drinks, and a +leisurely exit of all except Persis, who left immediately. +When the rest went up to their rooms Forbes went to +his.</p> + +<p>He waited with frantic impatience for the light to go +out in Ten Eyck's room. It was nearly midnight when +Forbes felt it safe to venture out into the hall and tiptoe +down the stairs. He had just arrived there when Persis +stole down and met him. There was no light except a +shaft of moonshine weirdly recolored by a stained-glass +window. They did not venture even a whisper. He +took her arm and groped with his free hand through a +black tunnel to a blacker door, which opened stealthily +and admitted a flood of moonlight.</p> + +<p>Persis was dressed warmly, and she had put on high +boots and a short, thick mackinaw jacket. But she shivered +with the midnight chill and with a kind of ecstatic +terror.</p> + +<p>Forbes had planned his route. He would avoid the +ascending stairway to the temple of Enslee's worship, and +lead her to the sunken gardens, which he had longed to +explore with her at his side.</p> + +<p>They did not wade out into the mid-sea of the lawn. +He remembered Persis' dictum that behind the blinds +there are always eyes. Like snickering truants they +skirted the balustrade, the shadowy privet hedge, the +masses of juniper and bay and box, till they reached the +point where the winding stairway dropped down between +its high brick walls.</p> + +<p>The shadows were doubly dense here, and Persis hung +back, but Forbes laughed at her for a poltroon, and she +refused to take the dare. He was so afraid that she might +fall that he finally suggested:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you are afraid of stumbling here, I—I'm not forgetting +my promise; but I just wanted to say that I—I +don't mind holding on to you, if you want to ask me to."</p> + +<p>She declined with whispered thanks. Down, down the +walk drifted. At length they heard a murmur—the +mysteriously musical noise of a fountain. They rounded +a few more curves and came upon a niched Cupid riding +a dolphin, from whose mouth an arc of water poured with +a sound of chuckling laughter. The green patina that +covered the bronze was uncannily beautiful in the moonlight, +and the water was molten silver.</p> + +<p>They stood and watched it like children for a long +while. Then Forbes urged Persis along to the lowest of +the circular levels.</p> + +<p>There he led her to a bench and dropped down beside +her. They both looked off into the huge caldron of +the hills, filled with moonlight as with a mist.</p> + +<p>The ragged woods in the distance were superb now in +blue velvet. Everything was ennobled—rewritten in +poetry. Everything plain and simple and ugly took on +splendor and mystic significance. Every object, every +group of objects, became personal and seemed to be striving +to say something.</p> + +<p>Persis and Forbes sat worshiping like Parsees of the +moon, in awesome silence, till Forbes could no longer +hush the clamor in his heart.</p> + +<p>"Miss Cabot," he said, "I promised not to annoy you. +Would it annoy you if I told you that—that I love you +with all my heart and soul and being?"</p> + +<p>"How could you love me?" she answered, softly, hoping +to be contradicted. "You've known me only a few days."</p> + +<p>"There are some people we live with for years and +never like nor understand; others we know and love the +moment our eyes meet."</p> + +<p>"And did you love me the moment our eyes met?"</p> + +<p>"Long before that. I loved the back of your hat and +one shoulder."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you tell everybody you meet the same thing? +It's rather a stale question to ask a man, but you do seem +rather impulsive on so short an acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Short acquaintance? We've seen each other more +than most people see of each other in six months. I +know you and I know myself, and I know that I shall +never be happy unless I can be trying to make you +happy."</p> + +<p>"I am very happy just now," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"But we can't sit here forever, and we can't even be +together for more than a day or two. I want you for my +own. I don't want to see you only—only on—Mr. Enslee's +property."</p> + +<p>"Which reminds me," Persis said, with a tone of dispelled +romance, "that we are still on Mr. Enslee's property, +and it doesn't seem fair to him."</p> + +<p>"Then let's leave Mr. Enslee's property."</p> + +<p>"How? In an airship?"</p> + +<p>"See that wall down there. That is one of the boundary +lines. If we were over that I could tell you some +things that I've got to tell you."</p> + +<p>"It's an awfully long way."</p> + +<p>"Not so long as you think."</p> + +<p>"No, no; it's easy to descend to Avernus, or whatever +it was; but to get back! I'd never have the strength +for that."</p> + +<p>"It's not far. Let's walk to keep warm. You are +cold, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Frozen, that's all. Well, come along, I'll go part way +with you."</p> + +<p>They set out upon the little path. There were no trees +to shelter them now from the moon, and its light seemed +to beat upon the hillside like waves. The moon that draws +the sea along in tides could not but have its influence on +these two atoms, and on the blood that sped through +their tiny veins. The moon filled them with the love of +love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>Constantly pausing to turn back, but finding it easier +to drift on down than begin the upward climb, Persis +went on and on, arm in arm with Forbes. By and by +they reached the boundary wall. He helped her to set +one knee upon it and mount awkwardly. He clambered +up and sat down at her side. Their backs were toward +the Enslee demesne, their feet in the unknown.</p> + +<p>And there, without delay, Forbes told her that she +must be his wife, told her that he loved her as woman had +never been loved before.</p> + +<p>His hands fought to caress her, his lips tingled to be +again at her cheek, but he kept his promise.</p> + +<p>Yet the influence of the promise was potent on her, +too. She knew that he was in an anguish of temptation, +and she glowed with his struggle. The moon and the +width of the world, the silent night-cry of the world in the +lonely dark, and the yearning light filled her with a need +of love. She regretted the promise, she wished that he +would break it, and her absolution waited ready for his +deed.</p> + +<p>But his sense of honor prevailed upon his hands, though +he could not keep silent about his heartache.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you possibly love me, Miss Cabot? Couldn't +you possibly?" he pleaded; and she whispered, with a +sad sweetness:</p> + +<p>"I could—all too easily, Mr. Forbes, but I am afraid +to love. I thought I never should love anybody really. +And now that I know I might, it is so terrible an awakening +that I—I'm afraid of it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid," he implored. "Love me. Let +yourself love me."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, Mr. Forbes."</p> + +<p>"Then if you're afraid to love, it's because you don't, +because you—can't."</p> + +<p>This hurt her pride. Her heart was so swollen with this +new power that it would not be denied either by herself +or him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I could! Oh, I could! But I mustn't—I mustn't +let myself love you—not now—not so soon."</p> + +<p>"Then I must wait," he sighed, and said no more. +And she sat in a silence, though there was a great noise of +heartbeats in her breast and in her temples and ears.</p> + +<p>She began to shiver with the night and with her excitement. +She wanted to say that they must start back; +but her tongue stumbled thickly against her chattering +teeth. The world was bitter cold—so far from him. In +his arms would be warmth and comfort as at a fireplace. +She was lonely, unendurably lonely and wistful.</p> + +<p>And he sat at her side in an equal ague of distance +and need.</p> + +<p>Finally he took his eyes from the moon and bent his +gaze on her. He saw how her shoulders quaked.</p> + +<p>"You're cold, you poor, sweet child—you're cold. I'm +dying to take you in my arms, but I promised—I promised."</p> + +<p>She was afraid to surrender, and afraid to defy the will +of the night. The chill shook her with violence again +and again till she felt the world rocking, the stone wall +wavering. Then she leaned toward him and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Kiss me!"</p> + +<p>He could hardly believe that he heard, but he caught +her to him and sought her lips with his. Immediately +she was afraid again. Again she hid the preciousness of +her mouth from him, writhed and struggled and twisted +her face, hid it in his breast. But now he fought her with +gentle ruthlessness, took her cold cheeks in his cold hands, +and, holding her face up to the moonlight, kissed her eyes, +and her dew-besprent hair and her cheeks, and pressed +the first great kiss on her lips. They fled from him no more.</p> + +<p>Only a moment she lingered in Elysium, and then she +sighed:</p> + +<p>"We must go back—we must! I hate to, but there's +to-morrow—and the people! What wouldn't they think +if they saw us?"</p> + +<p>He knew that they would not think the beautiful and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +holy thoughts that filled his heart and hers, so he consented +to climb back from this lowly heaven to the Upper +Purgatory.</p> + +<p>Her strength was gone, and he had little of his own; +but somehow he helped her up. Again and again they +paused to rest, and every time he tried to tell her that he +was poor, and at each pause found her lips so sweet that +he could not speak of so mean a thing as money and the +meaner lack of it.</p> + +<p>And behind her aching brows there were wild decisions +made and unmade to tell him that she had no right to +his love until she had released herself from her pledge to +Enslee. But at each pause she, too, put off the harsh +truth. It was sacrilege to intrude the name of Enslee +into this divine communion.</p> + +<p>They could not harm the perfection of that bliss by +any other confessions than their love.</p> + +<p>And this is one of the pitifulest things in this world, +that people lie mutely lest they spoil a beautiful truth; +they put off till to-morrow what would mar to-night; +they spare some heart-pain; they pay some virtue too +exclusive court, and lo, they find afterward that they have +brought about only corruption and confusion and damnation.</p> + +<p>So Persis and Forbes climbed slowly the winding stairway, +and their mood was one of hallowed reverence for +God and His beautiful world. They paused to wish even +the little bronze Cupid well, and his dolphin and the stream +of living water; the moon had deserted it now, but still +it chuckled. Forbes and Persis skirted the balustrade +with a guilty rapture, avoiding the almost daylight of the +moon-swept lawn. They opened the door with the innocent +stealth of good fairies.</p> + +<p>They mounted the stairway with their arms about each +other's bodies, and in the hall above they kissed and +whispered, "Good night! Good night! Good night!" +and tiptoed in opposite directions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>At their remote doors they paused to throw kisses into +the black dark toward each other's invisible presences.</p> + +<p>Forbes turned the knob of his door with fierce caution, +and waited to hear Persis close hers. There was a faint +thud and a little click like a final kiss. He tiptoed across +his sill, and was just closing his door after him when he +heard somewhere in the hall the soft thud of another door, +the click of another lock. His heart leaped as if a fist +had seized it suddenly. Some one else had been in the +hall. In the deep black there was no telling whose door +it was. But some one else had been in the hall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">LIEUTENANT FORBES had known what it was to +bivouac in the black of night in Mindanao, surrounded +by wild men native to the trees and as stealthy +as the dark, and armed with blow-guns, carved, painted, +sometimes studded with gems, but emitting poisonous +darts. He had stood then trying to peer them out in the +gloom, knowing they were there and unable to descry +them.</p> + +<p>So he stood now gripping his door-knob lest it turn in +his hand and betray him. He realized that he and Persis +had lingered in a social ambush. They were in no peril +of life, but the unknown spy might let loose upon them an +envenomed dart from the silent, the sometimes jeweled +blow-gun of gossip.</p> + +<p>Forbes' eyes fought in vain against a dark that was +like a black bandage. He felt sure that it was not Ten +Eyck's door that had thudded so slyly shut. But he +could not even guess whether it were the door of Enslee +or of one of the women.</p> + +<p>He waited and waited, hoping that a light would be +made, but there was no glimmer along any sill. Even +Persis was evidently undressing in the dark, or in the +moonlight that must be pouring into her room.</p> + +<p>Forbes visioned her there chilled and tired, her sleepy +hands fumbling at the sepals of her clothing till she +stripped them off and stood glimmering in the blue a +moment before she slipped into that creamy nothing he +had seen her wear at the window. And then he visioned +her with chattering teeth and shivering hands immersing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +her lonely beauty in the sheets, snow-white, snow-cold, +like a nymph returning to her brook in winter-time. He +felt immensely sorry that she should be cold and alone.</p> + +<p>He wondered if she prayed at her bedside, and thought +of her as a nun in one long, white line of beauty, from her +brow bent down, to the palms of her little bare feet upturned +on the floor. He hoped that she would not pray +too long lest she catch cold. And this seemed a kind of +sacrilegious thought, like individual communion cups.</p> + +<p>All these things he thought as he waited, gripping the +door-knob and listening fiercely for a sign of the eavesdropper. +And lest she should have been too cold to pray, +he prayed for her, that calumny might not be the reward +of her innocent love, the sweet surrender she had made of +her discretion and her good repute into his keeping.</p> + +<p>Yet he feared for her. He doubted that the secret +observer would think her free of guile. He did not fear +for himself. The man would be regarded at worst as a +successful adventurer, but the woman despised for an +easy victim or a willing accomplice.</p> + +<p>Forbes reproached himself for bringing this blight on +Persis. It was he that had dragged her protesting from +the house, persuaded her to steal forth, led her into +the distance, and kept her while the respectable hours +slipped by.</p> + +<p>The only atonement he could make was to proclaim as +speedily as possible that their love was honest and that +they carried the franchise of betrothal. To-morrow he +must make sure of her. He closed his door with the utmost +caution, and got out of his clothes and into his bed +with all possible silence. He was exhausted with the long +day of love's anxieties and triumph, and the new anxiety +he had stumbled into. He had yet to tell her how far +from rich he was. He had yet to persuade her to leave +this golden world of hers for the parsimony he offered.</p> + +<p>Perhaps her courage or her love would flinch from the +sacrifice. Then he could not protect her from the un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>known +sneerer. Indeed, if the unknown listener were +Enslee, Forbes would not stand as the protector of Persis +at all, but as a ruthless tempter of another man's love. +If it were Ten Eyck, he would have ground for reviling +Forbes as one whom he regretted sponsoring, a wolf +admitted into the fold in sheep's clothing. Or if it were +one of the women—everybody knows what mercy females +have for one another.</p> + +<p>In the chaos of his perplexities he fell asleep, and did +not waken till the whir of the telephone on his wall +called him from his slumber. Winifred's voice gruffly +informed him that his breakfast was waiting for him.</p> + +<p>When, as little later as he could manage, he joined the +group already at the table, he tried to read in the "Good +morning" of each some telltale hint. Mrs. Neff's <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> +languor might mask a reproach. Alice's casual glance +might mean aversion. Ten Eyck's reproving frown might +be a comment on his tardiness or a rebuke for his bad +faith. Winifred's curt manner might be merely her way +of play-acting a surly cook, and it might represent disgust.</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee smiled—smiled! Was it a crafty sneer, +or was it simply his stinted hospitality? If Enslee knew +that he was clandestine with Enslee's sweetheart, how +could Enslee smile? He must eliminate Enslee, at least, +from his suspicion.</p> + +<p>Persis alone greeted him with heartiness; her blessed +and blessing eyes were like kisses on the brow. But +Persis did not know that they had been watched. +She had closed her door first. How was he to tell her? +how put her on her guard?</p> + +<p>Forbes ate his breakfast in the mixed humor of a detective +and a suspect. He studied the others, and they +seemed to study him or to avoid him. He could not +settle upon even a theory.</p> + +<p>After the breakfast he sought an opportunity for a +secret word with Persis. She was told off to the bed-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>making +squad. She was even to do his room! He caught +her at the foot of the stairs. She warned him with a +gesture, and he broke the news to her without preparation:</p> + +<p>"Last night when we were saying good night some one +else was in the hall."</p> + +<p>Her lips parted in a gasp of terror, and her eyes whitened. +"How do you know?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"I heard her—or him."</p> + +<p>"Who was it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I can't even guess," he mumbled.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it could have been—All right, Mr. +Forbes, I'll be careful of your razor-blades."</p> + +<p>This last aloud for the benefit of Mrs. Neff, who came +by and spoke with icy severity—was it ironical?</p> + +<p>"Chambermaids are not allowed to flirt with customers +in this hotel." She went on up; and Persis followed +helplessly, leaving Forbes distraught.</p> + +<p>Later he saw her at his windows beating his pillows. +The intimate implication thrilled him, and he threw her +a kiss while pretending to take his cigar from his lips, +and she retreated into the embrasure to answer it with a +secret waft from her own mouth.</p> + +<p>Forbes had hoped to be invited to ride with Persis, +and had put on a pair of civilian riding-breeches and his +army puttees. But he was ignored in the program for +the day, announced by Enslee, who decreed that he and +Persis would ride over to the Sleepy Hollow Country +Club, by the quietest roads they could find, while the rest +were to motor across. They would all have luncheon +together and return in the same way. "If that horse of +mine doesn't break both of our fool necks," he added.</p> + +<p>"What about Persis and her horse's neck?" Ten Eyck +asked, speaking Forbes' own uneasy thought.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Persis can ride anything," Willie said. "She's +a born centaurette, while a horse and I are like oil and +water—only oil always stays on top, and I don't."</p> + +<p>But Forbes did not feel so sure of Persis as Willie did.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +He ventured to say as much when she appeared, but she +laughed at him:</p> + +<p>"Horses are not among my afraids. I've ridden since +I graduated from the back of a Great Dane to a Shetland +pony. I've got rubber bones; when I fall off I bounce +back."</p> + +<p>He could make no further protest, and hung about in +the futile discomfort of an old woman. There was no +reassurance for him in the behavior of the horses, which +two stablemen brought up the hill with a difficulty that +led Ten Eyck to comment:</p> + +<p>"Are those men leading horses, Willie, or flying kites?"</p> + +<p>There was a slight break in Willie's laugh as he said: +"My horse had better behave or I'll let him find his way +home alone. I wish I had a parachute."</p> + +<p>Persis was wearing the bowler hat and the coat and +breeches and boots Forbes had seen her in that morning +in Central Park. He knew how well she rode in the +bridle-path, but he feared for her in the motor-swept +roads. He told her so, but she laughed again.</p> + +<p>She set her foot in the stirrup, flung her leg across the +saddle, and warned the groom away. While Willie got +one foot in the stirrup and went hopping hither and yon +in pursuit of it with the other, Persis was getting acquainted +with her own mount, humoring him in his school-boy +hilarity, and sharply repressing any malicious mischief.</p> + +<p>The moment Willie was aboard the two horses whirled +and charged down the winding road in a mad gallopade. +And Forbes' heart galloped in his breast as he wondered +if he should ever see her alive again. He had felt this same +fear for her that first day on the Avenue, when her motor +shot forward so wildly. He was always feeling afraid +for her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE motor passengers were in no haste to be gone, +and they loitered, watching the mad riders on their +breakneck descent, now hidden, now revealed again by a +swerve of the road, a jut of hillside, or a group of trees.</p> + +<p>Forbes was sure at every vanishing that they would +never come into view. But they always did, and getting +their horses in hand at last, finished the hill with sobriety, +trotted across the granite bridge, and turned to wave +good-by.</p> + +<p>They were as small as dolls on toys where they jogged +along the distant high-road. A tiny motor-cycle, whose +thumping flight was faintly audible even at such a distance, +whizzed round a curve and almost cut the horses' +feet from under them. The animals lifted their hoofs +well out of danger, but they came to earth again out of +the cloud of dust, and Forbes dared to resume the business +of breathing.</p> + +<p>He saw that Enslee was a well-schooled rider who annoyed +his horse a good deal, yet ruled him somehow. But +Persis was perfect to the saddle, part of the horse, as fearless +and as expert in her smart gear as any cowgirl of the +plains.</p> + +<p>Forbes watched her till the last curve blotted her from +his sight, and yearned after her like a child left behind +from a picnic. He looked at his own riding-costume ruefully, +and said that he would better change. But the +others would not wait for him. Mrs. Neff urged:</p> + +<p>"They're very becoming. Keep 'em on. You've got +good legs, and you make Willie look like a wishbone."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>Enslee had sent his own driver and his own car to take +them to the club, and with an unusual thoughtfulness had +ordered the robe-rack filled with lilacs. And so they rode +behind a screen of purple beauty, and breathed in a spicy +air filtered through flowers.</p> + +<p>Forbes continued his search for a clue to last night's +eavesdropper in the manner of his fellow-passengers. +They were all in high spirits, which might be in any one's +case either ghoulish glee or innocence. As a matter of +fact, Mrs. Neff's enthusiasm was owing to her knowledge +that Senator Tait was at the Country Club; but she did +not tell Forbes lest her daughter hear. Alice was rapturous +in the knowledge that Stowe Webb had arranged before +she left New York to be at the club against just +such an opportunity as this; but she did not explain to +Forbes lest her mother hear. Winifred was buoyant +because Ten Eyck had promised her a few sets of tennis, +and she saw herself already whole ounces leaner. And +Ten Eyck was cheerful because the world usually amused +Ten Eyck when the weather was fit. And to-day, as +old Gower put it, "The weder was merie and faire +ynough."</p> + +<p>Merry and fair enough for any wight, and the scenery +wonderful. After a few swift miles of country whose old +walls, well-groomed meadows, and shapely forests gave +a look of England, the land rose higher and higher, till +the car swung out at last on a height commanding a river +in the utmost contrast with England's stream. As Ten +Eyck put it, "The Thames and the Hudson are as much +alike as a pearl necklace and an anchor-chain." The +water came down between its hills in tremendous calm, +and the Palisades opposite were no longer sheer cliffs, +but a congress of ponderous masses like reclining gods +along a banquet board.</p> + +<p>The homes responded, of necessity, to the scene. In +place of the ballroom levels and exquisite parks along +the reaches of the Thames, with its flat punts and its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +houseboats moored in shady niches, these lawns sloped +and rolled in massive sweeps, fronting a mighty stream.</p> + +<p>Forbes' heart could not rise to the bigness of the scene; +it was too much tossed between the hope that the next +turn might reveal Persis, spick and span on a glossy +horse, and the fear that some of these countless whizzing, +hooting motors might frighten the beast into panic and +hurl her under the swarming wheels.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck seemed to note the anxiety that kept his eyes +shuttling this way and that, for he remarked, as if quite +casually:</p> + +<p>"Small chance of meeting Persis and Willie here. They +said they'd try to keep off the busiest roads, and Willie +has probably got himself lost somewhere in the twists +and turns of Sleepy Hollow. Sleepy Hollow is just where +Willie belongs, all right; he is the most headless headless +horseman that ever threw a pumpkin. I'll bet he turns +up late to luncheon and makes a spectacular entrance on +the back of his neck."</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck was as nearly right as a prophet is required +to be.</p> + +<p>The car reached its destination without encountering +Persis or Willie. More majestic than the usual country +club, that of Sleepy Hollow was approached by a stately +entrance gate. The road wound between broad lawns, +where children played among tropical thickets of veteran +rhododendrons tall as trees, and studded with flowers as big +and brilliant as Chinese lanterns. The club-house was a +pile of creamy brick, tall and spacious as a hotel. The +servants were in livery, some of them already in summer +white, with dark collars and lapels—"to distinguish them +from the members," said Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck and Winifred offered Forbes a racquet in +their tennis game, but he preferred to be alone with his +loneliness. He accepted Ten Eyck's suggestion, however, +that he might care to go round the links, and Ten Eyck +procured him a bag of clubs and a caddy, promising him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +ample time for at least nine holes before Persis could +arrive.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff, meanwhile, had vanished with Alice. She +had learned that Senator Tait was on the golf-course, and +had dragged Alice forth. Mrs. Neff loathed walking, but +to-day she announced a determination to reform. Alice +went along with double reluctance. She lost her chance +to get word to Stowe Webb, who did not know she was +coming, and she feared she might find him on the links +in some spot exposed to her mother's far-sweeping vision.</p> + +<p>Forbes, left to his own devices, and feeling like a dolt +for golfing in horse costume, dawdled about marveling at +the luxury of the club and the splendor of the views that +met the eye everywhere within or without its walls. At +length he reached the golf-grounds squired by a lean little +caddy, who might almost have crawled into the bag of +sticks and passed for one of them.</p> + +<p>With the usual luck of beginners and re-beginners at a +game, Forbes did his best work at the start. His first drive +from the first tee drew such a white arc across the sky +that even the caddy was moved to an exclamation of +applause, hitched his sack on his shoulder, and set off +in search of the ball with vicarious pride.</p> + +<p>The ball waited for Forbes in a position so good as to +be almost suspicious. It was an ideal brassy lie; but +Forbes, thinking now of his form, just missed it with surprising +nicety, and sent gouts of turf flying. According +to the rules, he was to replace them; and, according to +custom, he affected not to see them. His score mounted +rapidly while he mauled the air and the grass around the +ball, and when he finally got away he had lost his temper +and the respect of the caddie irretrievably.</p> + +<p>As he worked his way up a steep ridge green and vast +as the back of a tidal wave he saw at the top of the +height a bunker thrusting out into the sky like the comb +on the top of a Spanish woman's head. He paused for +his approach, to let two women clear the way. He rec<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>ognized +Mrs. Neff and Alice, but they did not see him. +Mrs. Neff seemed to be in a mood of displeasure. There +was vexation in her very heels.</p> + +<p>Thinking the pathway clear, Forbes mumbled "Fore," +and, picking the ball up neatly in his iron, sent it over +the edge of the bunker with a hurdler's economy of gap. +And just as it escaped the top a head arose, followed by +a pair of shoulders.</p> + +<p>Forbes shrieked an <i>ex post facto</i> "Fore!" but it was +drowned in the snort of pain and rage from the man, +whose left shoulder-blade stopped the ball.</p> + +<p>As Forbes ran forward with abject apologies a glaring +face peered over the bunker and roared out:</p> + +<p>"Damn it, man! Where do you think you—Why, +it's you! Harvey, my boy!"</p> + +<p>"Senator Tait!" Forbes cried, darting for one corner +of the bunker as Senator Tait dashed for the other. They +paused, turned back, and made for the opposite ends, +stopped short foolishly in the middle, and laughingly +clasped hands over the ledge.</p> + +<p>"I'll come round," said Forbes; and the Senator met +him, put his arms about him, and hugged him with a +fatherly roughness. After he had told Forbes how much +he had grown and how fine he was, and Forbes had exclaimed +how young the Senator looked, the Senator +hugged him again.</p> + +<p>"I can't believe that you are yourself. The first time +I saw you was in your father's arms; you were about +half an hour old, and your father said you were very handsome. +I couldn't see it at the time, but you've improved. +I wish he could see you now. I was with him, you know, +when his horse fell with him and—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," Forbes murmured. "You were his +best friend—our best friend."</p> + +<p>"It's a shame that we've lost sight of each other. We +mustn't any more. Life's too short to waste in not seeing +people we love. I must say, though, I'm rather hurt at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +your not looking me up before. Mrs. Neff has just told +me you've been in town nearly a week."</p> + +<p>"I—I've been very busy," Forbes stammered.</p> + +<p>"So I hear, you young scoundrel!" Tait growled, jovially. +"You're at the heartbreaking, heartaching age, and +no time to spend on old duffers like me when young +beauties are drooping on every bough. But what's this +Mrs. Neff tells me about your being rich? I hadn't heard +it. I hadn't expected it, either, for your father was a +better fox-hunter than a financier. What did you do—invent +some new explosive—or a new gun?"</p> + +<p>Forbes smiled bitterly and explained the foolish mistake, +too foolish to correct at first, and later embarrassing.</p> + +<p>The Senator stared at him a moment searchingly with +a tender inquisition, then said:</p> + +<p>"Unless you're golf-hungry, let's send the caddies back +and have a talk."</p> + +<p>"By all means," Forbes agreed; and even as he cast +his glance about in search of his caddy he looked farther +to see if Persis were not visible somewhere from this +Pisgah height. He was fond of the old man, but he loved +the young woman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES' caddy was standing by the ball, and came +in with it, cannily claimed his pay and tip for the +full course, and hurried back with the Senator's caddy +to pick up other fares. They took both the golf-bags with +them to put away.</p> + +<p>Tait and Forbes strolled aside from the traffic of the +golf-course and found a quiet seat in the shade.</p> + +<p>"And now tell me," the Senator said; "but first have a +cigar?"</p> + +<p>He took out a portly wallet stuffed with brown backs, +the famous cigars made expressly for him in Havana. +Forbes accepted one and sniffed its bouquet.</p> + +<p>"It's a shame to waste these in the open air," he said, +and sprung a cigar-lighter he carried, holding the flame +to Tait, who waived it with a sigh:</p> + +<p>"Doctor's orders."</p> + +<p>"Then I won't."</p> + +<p>"Go on; I carry them for my friends. I love to see +others enjoy what I can't. Well, I will smoke just one +to celebrate the prodigal's return." And he took a cigar +from the case as tenderly as if it were forbidden ambrosia. +As Forbes made a light again, he asked:</p> + +<p>"What's this about doctor's orders? You're the kind +of picture that goes with the testimonials—after taking."</p> + +<p>"I'm a hollow sham, my boy; bad heart, bad liver, fat +and sluggish, ordered to Carlsbad, but I hate to go. May +have to," he puffed. "Did you see my daughter Mildred +at the club-house?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so. I don't suppose I'd know her. +She was a little tike in short skirts when I saw her last."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She's a big woman now—regular old maid—fanatic +on charities—fine mind—great heart. Thinks too much +about the poor and the downtrodden to be very cheerful +company; but somebody ought to look after 'em, I suppose. +She's one of those hotheads that are trying to +make the world over. Sounds hopeless, but they do get +a lot done. She thinks poverty is no more necessary +than slavery was. And she says the same of the oldest +profession in the world.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Harvey, what that child knows! Her +mother to her dying day never heard of half the things +that young spinster discusses, and has never had a flirtation +so far as I know. Her conversation is really what has +turned my hair white. Things that used to be kept for +the medical books or smoking-room conversation she tosses +off glibly, earnestly, and—to me! And spends my money, +too, on scientific rescue work among women who—whew! +And to think her mother and I didn't dare to tell her +things! Now she tells 'em to me! She knows more about +the seamy side than I do. But she's wonderful, Harvey. +I'm afraid of her, but I do admire and love her. Women +like her make these mad tango-trotters look pretty +cheap."</p> + +<p>Forbes resented the unintended criticism on the wonderful +soul the tango mania had enabled him to meet and +know so well so soon. He murmured something formulaic +about his eagerness to see Mildred, and then he added, +with a little hint of raillery:</p> + +<p>"You congratulated me on my wealth. Am I to congratulate +you the same way for your success with little +Miss Neff?"</p> + +<p>The Senator stared at him. "My success with little +Miss Neff? What do you mean? Who's little Miss +Neff? Alice?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"The girl that was just here with her mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What success should I have with her?"</p> + +<p>Forbes was confused, and tried to back out, but Tait +would know, and Forbes at last explained: "Alice says +that her mother is trying to marry her off to you."</p> + +<p>Tait's eyes popped, and his mouth gaped stupidly, then +he swore with sonority, and blurted out: "Do you mean +that that old harridan of a Cornelia Neff has gone mad +enough to—Why, Alice is younger than Mildred! I +thought of her as a little tot. I tweaked her cheek and +told her how sweet she was, and never dreamed she'd +grown up yet. So that's why Cornelia has been so hospitable +to me. I had a kind of sneaking fear that she +wanted to add me to her own regiment of husbands. +But it's her daughter, eh? Well, I'll be double—Is +Alice in on the game, too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no; Alice is crazy to marry Stowe Webb."</p> + +<p>"Poor old Jim Webb's boy, eh?" Forbes nodded. +"Well, why doesn't she?"</p> + +<p>"He has no money."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's one of those."</p> + +<p>"He hasn't even a job."</p> + +<p>The Senator puffed like an unmufflered cut-out, and +he frowned like a pirate, then he began to chuckle in the +manner of a pirate ordering the plank put over the side.</p> + +<p>"He hasn't a job, eh? Well, I'll get him one. I'll +pay that old lady in her own coin. Make a fool out of +me, will she? Well, we'll see what an old politician can +do to countermine an old lady."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of politics," said Forbes, "the papers are +full of the possibility of your being an ambassador somewhere. +Is there anything in it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my old friend the President has written me a +few letters and whispered it in my ear, but I don't want +to go. I'm too old. I like my own country and my own +slippers. Foreign languages and foreign cooking and +all that would play the devil with me. I don't want to +go."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes laughed at the spectacle of a big, rich man +pouting like a reluctant child against having a sweetmeat +forced on him.</p> + +<p>"Then why are you going?" he grinned.</p> + +<p>"How did you know I was?"</p> + +<p>"Because you said you didn't want to. We only say, +'I don't want to' when we're just about to."</p> + +<p>Tait looked at him in surprise. Forbes was not the +type from whom one expects epigrams and generalizations. +That was among his chief attractions. Tait +laughed sheepishly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you, Harvey. There's just one reason—I'm +worried about Mildred. She's getting in too deep +with her crusades and causes. She's done enough. She +mustn't lose her own life as a woman—a wife—a mother. +I'm old-fashioned enough to believe that that's a woman's +first business, as a man's first business is to build a home +and keep it. Afterward all the charity and uplift they +can do is legitimate and worthy. But first pay your debts, +I say, before you make donations. Now I can't pry Mildred +loose from her clubs and committees. No marrying +young man will go near her. There's no encouragement +to the pink nonsense of love in an atmosphere of tenement-house +needs, tuberculosis exhibits, and the harrowing +statistics of white slavery.</p> + +<p>"I got an idea that if I went abroad as an ambassador +she'd have to go along to take care of me and run the +social end of the embassy. She'd have to dress up and +give dinners, and go places and dance and meet cheerful +people, and—well, who knows? Anyway, my last business +on this earth is leaving my only child provided for, +and I'm worried because—because—well, I'm too fat +around the heart, and my neck is too thick, and the doctor +tells me to be ready. You understand?</p> + +<p>"My father went that way. He had to be very careful +of his health, and one day, when he was about to go out +in the rain, my mother told him he must wear his rubbers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +He bent over to pull on an overshoe, and—he just went +on over and sprawled out on the rug—dead."</p> + +<p>He stared off into space, and seemed not to be a venerable +old man any more, but a lonely orphan with the +sad eyes of boyhood in the presence of death.</p> + +<p>Forbes knew what it means for a man to think of the +death of his first great man, his father; and his hand +wrung the Senator's. Tait looked up, smiled sadly, and +returned the pressure with his big, soft fingers.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had a son to leave her with, Harvey; then I'd +feel better, but my only boy—well, he married the wrong +woman, and she drove him to the dogs, deceived him and +tormented him, and—finally he had to make her divorce +him. And he loved her in spite of it—he was ashamed of +his love; but he couldn't kill it; she couldn't kill it; drink +couldn't kill it. But the two of them killed him. Oh, +Lord, Harvey, it's a cruel world, and we're so helpless! I +could have done so much for my boy; but I couldn't +help him in the one way he needed help. I couldn't make +the woman over.</p> + +<p>"Don't repeat his mistake, Harvey. Don't let a pretty +face and a fascinating body blind you to a bad, selfish +heart. Don't let yourself love the wrong woman. You +can do a good deal with your heart if you hold a tight rein +on it and keep it on the right road. There are fine enough +women on the straight road, just as beautiful, just as +passionate with the right man. If only—"</p> + +<p>He paused, looked at Harvey, who was looking everywhere +but at the Senator. He was searching the landscape +for Persis, and he was as restless among his own +thoughts as the young usually are when the old are commenting +on the helplessness of life. The young know so +much better. It is the young who have theories of the +universe and who expect to carry out their hopes; it is +the old scientists who are bewildered and who merely +observe and accept.</p> + +<p>But Tait did not notice Forbes' inattention. Rummag<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>ing +among the confusions of his own griefs, he had come +upon a bright hope. What if Forbes should be the man +to win Mildred away from her avocations back to the main +business of love? He was such a youth as even Mildred +could hardly ignore or despise. He had little money, but +Tait had more than enough for the two, and he had made +many a poor man rich.</p> + +<p>He smiled. He felt like apologizing to Mrs. Neff for +stealing a hint from her. Why should not old men engage +in the pleasant chess-game of match-making, too? +What better task could he undertake than making this +beloved son of his old comrade the husband of his own +beloved daughter?</p> + +<p>The idea was so exhilarating that it almost leaped from +his heart. But he was politician enough to realize that +such a plan would be frustrated in advance by premature +publication. This was a benevolent conspiracy that +must be kept dark.</p> + +<p>He studied Forbes with admiring affection. His heart +went out to him as to a son, or, better yet, a son-in-law. +He put a hand on Forbes' shoulder to claim him just as +Forbes started with a sudden elation, just as a light +broke forth in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Tait followed the line of Forbes' gaze and made out +a man and a woman on horseback turning in at the gate +marked "Exit Only." That was like Willie Enslee. If any +gate could excite his interest as an entrance it would be +one marked "Exit Only." Tait could not see who it +was; he hastily got out his distance-glasses and put them +on. But a glowing wall of rhododendrons and cedars +concealed the riders by the time his great tortoise-shell +spectacles hobgoblined his eyes.</p> + +<p>Forbes spoke. "Sha'n't we stroll back to the club-house? +I'm expected there for luncheon."</p> + +<p>"By all means," said Tait. "And I want you to meet +Mildred again."</p> + +<p>"I'd love to," said Forbes, absently. He said nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +more, but strode on so rapidly down the steep slope that +Tait had to take his arm for support and to hold him +back.</p> + +<p>"You're visiting at the Enslees', Mrs. Neff tells me," +the old man panted.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Excuse my fatherly familiarity, but how can you afford +to gad with those wild asses?"</p> + +<p>"I can't."</p> + +<p>"What's her name?" Tait laughed.</p> + +<p>"I may be able to tell you later, and I may not."</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy, I don't know who she is, but I bet she +isn't worth it—not if she trails with the Enslee pack."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but she is beautiful—she is wonderful."</p> + +<p>"You must be hit damned hard."</p> + +<p>"Am."</p> + +<p>And then, not heeding the connotation, he exclaimed, +as Persis emerged from the eclipsing shrubbery:</p> + +<p>"There's only one woman can ride like that."</p> + +<p>Tait stared again, and now he made her out. Instantly, +with the exultance one feels over a secret some +one else lets slip, he cried: "Oho, my boy, that's the +woman who keeps you here! Mrs. Neff hinted at it, +but I wouldn't believe it till I had it from you." His +gloating sank again to fatherly solicitude as he pleaded +earnestly: "For God's sake, boy, don't love her! Of +all women don't love Persis Cabot! She's the most +heartless of them all."</p> + +<p>Forbes was tempted to ask him how he could accept a +reputation as a proof of character, but he was still calm +enough to pay Tait's white hair the homage of silence. +Tait, feeling the import of his silence, grew uneasy, and +demanded:</p> + +<p>"Harvey, it's not possible that you love her—actually +love her?"</p> + +<p>"Is it possible not to?"</p> + +<p>"But you've not known her long."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, but I've known her well. Do you know her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I knew her mother. Once I thought I loved +her mother. But I had less money—when I proposed to +her than I have now—Heaven be praised!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven be praised?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for she might have married me. Harvey, a certain +part of the society here is like a big aquarium. The +people are all fish—the men goldfish, the women catfish. +Their blood is cold—Lord, how cold! Just look at their +eyes! Hard eyes, hard hearts. They despise sincerity; +they laugh at honest emotion."</p> + +<p>"But Persis has soft eyes," Forbes broke in, "and a +warm heart."</p> + +<p>"Has she?" Tait sighed, feeling that the siren had already +sung Forbes' wits away. "Well, maybe, in the +moonlight. But she'll soon freeze. Now, if she had +been born poor—"</p> + +<p>"But, Senator, the rich can't all be bad," Forbes complained.</p> + +<p>"The rich are no worse than anybody else as a class," +said Tait. "My father and mother were rich, and they +were as good and sweet and simple as any poor people +that ever lived. They were like Romeo and Juliet. +The Montagues and Capulets were both rich. But if +young Mr. Montague had been poor we might have had +a different story. Or, if you had only gone into finance."</p> + +<p>"It's too late for me to dream of money. I'm a +soldier."</p> + +<p>"And it's too late for you to dream of Persis Cabot, +not merely because she's wealthy. One class is as good +as another; it's the set that counts. And she gallops +with the rich runaways. Their life is one long stampede. +There are rich women who toil like slaves for the poor, +who lead lives of earnestness and purity, who respond to +every appeal, and make organized charity possible. But +there are others, rich and poor, that never think of anybody +but themselves, never have real pity except for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +themselves, never toil or fret except for their own amusement. +And those people gravitate together into colonies +and cliques. Don't run with that pack, Harvey."</p> + +<p>He was not the first man of eld that had warned youth +against beauty. Nor was he the last that shall fail to be +heeded. He tried another tack.</p> + +<p>"I understand that Willie Enslee expects to marry her."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't expect to marry him."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have my reasons for believing that she doesn't +love him."</p> + +<p>"Nobody ever accused her of that, but—well, does +she think what Mrs. Neff thinks—that you have money?"</p> + +<p>Forbes did not answer except with a blush. The +Senator spared him any pressure on that point. He said, +simply:</p> + +<p>"Enslee has a lot of money—more than her father has. +In fact, her father is in a very bad plight."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I am about six bank directors, Harvey, and a few +other things. Her father is about to be forced into involuntary +bankruptcy; her father's pet railroad may go +into receiver's hands to-day or to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Poor Persis!" Forbes groaned. "Poor Persis!"</p> + +<p>There was such anguish in his tone that the Senator +gripped his arm hard and murmured:</p> + +<p>"Do you care so much for her?"</p> + +<p>Forbes stopped short and stared into the old man's +eyes. "A man like me loves once, and loves hard. If +I lost her, my life wouldn't be worth the snap of my +finger." And he added in a raucous voice, "Or the +click of a trigger."</p> + +<p>The Senator leaned heavily on him and closed his eyes +in a wince of pain. He had heard his own dead son +speak just that way.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes he saw that Forbes was +smiling glowingly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look at her, Senator! She's so beautiful! I can't +let Enslee have her! Look at him! He's as afraid of +his horse as his horse is ashamed of him. What's he up +to now? Rein him in, you fool! He'd drive a hobbyhorse +into hysterics. And now he's sent Persis' horse in +the air! What's the matter with him? Why doesn't +he—"</p> + +<p>But the fault was not Enslee's, nor was he so bad a +rider as an expert like Forbes might think. As the event +proved, even Persis could not control her mount in the +face of what was happening unseen by Forbes. A chauffeur, +relying on the fact that he was on the exit road, +was driving a big red six at high speed along the curves. +He had not seen Enslee and Persis till he was almost +into them. He swung aside so sharply that he almost +capsized, and ran into something sharp enough to rip +open a shoe.</p> + +<p>This was just one too many automobiles for the horses +Persis and Enslee rode. They had been curbed and +scolded and kept in hand all morning; but to have a +dragon leap at them from the cedar-trees was too much. +They went frantic, dancing erect, and threshing the air +with their fore hoofs. And then the tire exploded like +a cannon, and they went mad. They feared nothing but +what was behind them; nothing could hurt them but +their terror.</p> + +<p>They crashed through cedars and rhododendrons, and +plunged across the lawn to the clear space of the golf-links. +Forbes saw the demon look in the white eyes +of Persis' horse. He had seen mustangs in that humor +shake off their tormentors and tear them wolfishly with +their fangs.</p> + +<p>"He's got the bit in his teeth!" he groaned. "He'll +kill her! My God, he'll kill her! She can't hold him! +I've got to get him somehow."</p> + +<p>He had a fierce impulse to meet the horse, leap at him, +catch him by the bridle and the nose and smother him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +to a standstill. But Tait had seen a policeman killed +trying to stop a horse so, and he flung his arms about +Forbes.</p> + +<p>"No, you won't!" he gasped. "You can't stop him! +I won't let you risk your life—not for that woman."</p> + +<p>"Let me go! Let me go!" Forbes pleaded, unwilling +to use his strength against the old man. But Tait clung +to him, seized him anew as Forbes wrenched his hand +loose; fell to his knees, but still held fast and was dragged +along, moaning:</p> + +<p>"My boy, I love you like a son. You sha'n't risk your +life—not for her!"</p> + +<p>Then suddenly his clutch relaxed; his fingers opened; +he rolled forward on his face, his white hair fluttering in +the grass.</p> + +<p>And Forbes, hardly knowing that he was released, felt +himself free, and ran with all his might to intercept the +plunging monster, who came snorting his rage, flinging +his huge barrel this way and that, and shaking the white +saliva from his mouth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS met equine wrath with female rage. The +fiercer the horse plunged the harder she beat him +with the crop, the more bloodthirstily she stabbed his sides +with her keen-spurred heels. Her hair flung looser and +looser, and at length set free her hat, and then shook +out its own tortoise-shell moorings and flew to the winds. +She sawed at the horse's head, stabbed him with the +spurs, railed at him with shrill voice, and fought him as +a Valkyr might have fought her charger panic-stricken +at the noise of battle.</p> + +<p>Even the old man, who lay on the ground clutching at +his heart, could not but feel a thrill at the wild beauty +of the girl; her long hair flowed and writhed smokily, her +face was the more commandingly beautiful for the very +merciless hate that fired it; her girlish body in her boyish +costume was strangely alive. Her thighs gripped the +horse's sides visibly like arches of steel. All this beauty +Forbes saw also, and more, for he saw with the eyes of +idolatry; and yet more again, for his beloved was in +mortal danger. He ran in a frenzy of fear and determination. +As he and the horses met on their converging +paths Persis shrieked to him: "Keep away! Keep +away!"</p> + +<p>None the less he leaped for the bridle with both hands +flung out. But she would not let him endanger himself. +She threw all the power of both her arms and her weight +on the farther bridle, dragging the horse's head aside till +he swerved out of Forbes' reach.</p> + +<p>Forbes sprawled on the turf; but at least he had not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +been struck by the hoofs or knees of the horse. And then +the horse came down in turn, thrown out of his stride +and with his head brought round so sharply that he +came down on his shoulder and almost broke his neck.</p> + +<p>Persis went through the air like a pinwheel, and those +who witnessed the affair gave up her and the horse for +dead. But she clung to the bridle, and got up on all fours. +For once Persis was awkward. She and Forbes met and +stared like quadrupeds, and the horse rolled over on his +belly and stared too.</p> + +<p>What had almost been a tragedy was turned to a farce +by coincidence. If all the corpses in the last act of Hamlet +should rise and stare at one another—as they do when +the curtain is down—audiences might roar as the golfers +and the club servants and members roared at this spectacle.</p> + +<p>Willie, meanwhile, had vanished over the hill like the +headless horseman Ten Eyck had likened him to.</p> + +<p>After the first automatic recovery Persis was overtaken +by a wave of terror she had had no time to feel. +She turned ashen about the mouth, and a queasy feeling +sickened her. Her elbows gave way, and she sank to +the ground.</p> + +<p>Senator Tait came up with difficulty, forgetting that +he had been, perhaps, nearer death on that green battle-field +than any other of the fallen. He heard Forbes wailing, +as he gathered Persis into his arms and strengthened +his own weak knees:</p> + +<p>"Persis, my darling, my angel, speak to me! Are you +dead?"</p> + +<p>Persis opened her eyes with a flash. She began to +realize that she had been very conspicuous. "Of course +I'm not dead. But what's worse, my hair's down. I +must be a sight! And my breeches are torn. Oh, Lord, +why wasn't I killed romantically? Turn your backs at +once."</p> + +<p>The two men stared all the more, but she released her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>self +from Forbes' arms, rose to her feet with some twinges +of evident pain, and put up her hair with what few hairpins +remained of her store, and borrowed a pin from the +Senator's lapel to mend a rip that let one exquisite knee +escape to view. A caddy came running up with her hat, +and she thanked him.</p> + +<p>"Come along," she said; "I feel as if I were on the stage +of the Metropolitan Opera House."</p> + +<p>The horse got clumsily to his feet, all the battle knocked +out of him, and followed weakly till she handed him over +to a groom.</p> + +<p>Eager to escape the stares that met her and the sympathy +and felicitations that greeted her, she walked so +rapidly that the Senator dropped back. She found herself +alone with Forbes, and she murmured:</p> + +<p>"You were wonderful to try to save me as you did."</p> + +<p>"As I didn't," he groaned. "You wouldn't let me."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't want you ever to risk anything for me, +Harvey. But I'm just as grateful—and more than that. +If there weren't so many people looking on do you know +what I'd say?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Kiss me." The words came so unexpectedly that he +forgot their subjunctive mode. He took them to be in +the imperative, and came near obeying. He checked +himself in time, and said:</p> + +<p>"How soon shall I be able to call you mine before all +the world?"</p> + +<p>"Do you wish that?"</p> + +<p>"Madly! It is my one great wish."</p> + +<p>She breathed deeply and caressed him with a delicious +smile, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"It is mine, too."</p> + +<p>And then Ten Eyck and Winifred and Mrs. Neff and +Alice, and others of her acquaintance, crowded round, +summoned by the flying rumor of the incident. At length +some one exclaimed:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But where's Willie?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord," Persis gasped, "I forgot all about him."</p> + +<p>Some one else who had been on the links described +Willie's disappearance over the brow of the hill. He had +been still attached to the horse when last heard from. +But his prospects were reported to be poor.</p> + +<p>By the time Persis had reached the club-house and had +undergone the ministrations of a maid, who was also a +seamstress, Willie came limping up on the terrace, where +Persis was seated with the others.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there you are, my dear," Willie drawled. "And +not a bit hurt, not a hair turned, so far as I can make out, +eh? And here I've been worrying myself sick over you—simply +sick."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll go out and break a few bones if it would make +you feel any easier," Persis answered. "But what happened +to you? Where's your horse?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you. It was like this. You see, that +beast I was on went galumphing up the hill playing the +deuce with putting-greens, until he came to that big bunker +at the top, you know—you know the one I mean—at the +top there—the big bunker?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know."</p> + +<p>"Well, he refused it."</p> + +<p>"What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"I took it alone."</p> + +<p>"Where's your horse?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I hope to God he breaks a leg or rips +himself open on barbed wire or something."</p> + +<p>There was a vindictive ferocity in his voice that surprised +Forbes.</p> + +<p>The luncheon, which Ten Eyck had commanded, was +announced just then, and they all adjourned to the dining-room. +Forbes resented Enslee's habit of "my-dear"-ing +Persis, but took solace from the thought that he should +soon confound his rival with the news of his own triumph.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in his joy at being near to Persis, he remem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>bered +that he had neglected Senator Tait, after promising +to meet his daughter. He did not venture to leave his +own table; but as soon as the luncheon was eaten, and +while Winifred and Mrs. Neff and Persis sneaked off somewhere +for their after-coffee cigarettes, he sought out Tait +and found him with a tall and self-reliant girl whom he +introduced as Mildred.</p> + +<p>Forbes made the usual remarks one makes to a little +girl one meets again as a grown woman. She had indeed +changed from the shy and leggy little minx to this robust, +ample-bosomed bachelor girl with the sorrows of the world +on her shoulders and pity and courage warring in her +resolute eyes.</p> + +<p>Recalling what the Senator had said of her appalling +lore, Forbes was at some loss for words. He said, at last, +the obvious thing, waving his hand toward the great park +and the panorama of river and headland spread out beyond:</p> + +<p>"Wonderful, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>But Mildred, instead of an equally commonplace answer, +sighed: "I suppose it is, but I—somehow I can't +take much pleasure in beautiful things like these. I keep +thinking how the poor kiddies and their worn-out mothers +in the tenements would love to see it—and never will. +And when I think how much money it costs to build and +keep up this place I can't help saying to myself: 'How +many loaves of bread this would buy for hungry waifs! +how many pairs of shoes! how many lives it could save!' +I see this big lawn all overrun with little newsboys and +factory-girls and sick men and women."</p> + +<p>Senator Tait shrugged his shoulders and smiled at +Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she hopeless?"</p> + +<p>"She's very splendid," Forbes said, with admiration and +also a little awe. The father felt this in Forbes' manner, +and it strengthened his resolution to rescue his daughter +from her rescue work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mildred had not yet learned the exact point where +nobility becomes offensive because it is too consistent and +too insistent. She had not yet learned that charity, like +art, must conceal itself, and that grandeur of soul unchecked +by tact provokes only resentment.</p> + +<p>But she was young and radiant with unfocused love, +and she had seen too much wretchedness. The people +whose miseries she relieved did not resent her, but adored +her. She was tactful enough with them.</p> + +<p>Forbes was ashamed of himself for feeling a little chilled +by Mildred's irrepressible enthusiasm for sorrow. He +blamed himself, not her. But when Persis returned he +thanked heaven for beauty untroubled by any deeper concerns +than its own loveliness, and for a heart that inspired +desire for itself rather than pity for the submerged myriads.</p> + +<p>He bade the Senator and his daughter as cordial a +good-by as he could, and promised to meet the Senator +as soon as possible in town. Then he forgot them both, +for when Enslee's automobile swept up to the club-house +door, Enslee's two horses were also brought up, and he +imagined Persis riding away again on that dangerous +beast with that dangerous escort.</p> + +<p>Enslee stared at the horses in disgust. "There are +those brutes of mine, and not a bit hurt, either—worse luck. +I'll have 'em both sold to somebody who'll work 'em +hard and beat 'em harder."</p> + +<p>"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Persis. "If you +don't want them I'll take them."</p> + +<p>"And get your neck broken, eh?" Enslee snarled. +"Oh no, you won't. Look at that beast! I'll have his +throat cut for him."</p> + +<p>There was something in his voice like the edge of a +knife, and it made Forbes' blood run cold. Enslee had +unsuspected streaks of viciousness. But Persis was used +to this quality of his nature, and it did not alarm her. +When he said, "Hop into the car, Persis; I'll send a groom +over for the nags," Persis shook her head, and answered:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I propose to show my horse who is master. He +can't spill me all over the landscape and get away with +it. You ride home in the car, and I'll go back as I came."</p> + +<p>"And a pretty fool you'll make of me," Enslee wrangled. +"Besides, I haven't ridden much lately; I'm saddle-sore."</p> + +<p>"I've been riding every morning in the Park," Persis +insisted. "I'll lead your horse back, unless—" She +hesitated and looked at Forbes, who leaped at the cue.</p> + +<p>"I'd be glad to ride him, if you don't object, Mr. +Enslee."</p> + +<p>Enslee stared at Forbes, saw nothing ulterior in his +eyes, and yielded with a bad grace.</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right. Go ahead. Only don't sue me for +damages if you get pitched under an auto."</p> + +<p>"I won't," Forbes laughed, elated beyond belief by the +unimaginable luck of riding at Persis' stirrup for miles +and miles.</p> + +<p>And so they mounted. Persis' horse was humbled beyond +struggle; but Enslee's big black had lately tossed +his rider over his head. He tested the seat of his new +visitor. Forbes was a West-Pointer, a cavalryman, and +the horse had not made more than one pirouette before +he understood that he was bestridden by one whom it was +best to obey.</p> + +<p>Willie tried at first to keep the motor back with the +horses, but Persis ordered him to go about his business, +and turned off the hard track to a soft road.</p> + +<p>And now at last they were free, Forbes and Persis, +cantering along a plushy road, a lovers' lane that mounted +up and up till they paused at the height to give the horses +breath.</p> + +<p>Back of them the Hudson spread its august flood between +mountainous walls. Before them the road dipped +into the deep forest seas of Sleepy Hollow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">"IS it possible that we're actually alone?" Forbes +gloated, turning in his saddle to take her in in her +brisk, youthful beauty.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't exactly call it alone up here on the mantelpiece +of the world in broad daylight," Persis smiled. +"But it's nice, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Wonderful, to be riding with you!"</p> + +<p>"I'm immensely happy," she said. "Even the horses +know the difference. This morning they hated each +other. They wouldn't trot in rhythm or alongside, and +they fought like snapping-turtles. Now look at them +nuzzle and flirt. Ouch! that's my game knee you're colliding +with. It would be better if I rode side-saddle. +There were advantages in old-fashioned ways. You ride +splendidly, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Do I?" he said. "As you told me the first time I +met you, I'm glad you like me."</p> + +<p>"I more than that, now."</p> + +<p>"More than like me?"</p> + +<p>"Umm-humm!"</p> + +<p>"Love me?"</p> + +<p>"Umm-humm!"</p> + +<p>"If I could only brush away all of these houses and +people and take you in my arms! If this were only a +Sahara or Mojave!"</p> + +<p>"I doubt if there's a desert where nobody is peeking. +They used to tell me that God was looking when no one +else was."</p> + +<p>"Well, He would understand."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Maybe He would see too much. But the human +beings don't understand. And they're everywhere. Oh, +Lord, I'm so sick of other people's eyes and ears. All my +life I've had them on me—servants', nurses', maids', +waiters', grooms', footmen's! Sometimes I think I'd +love to live on a desert island. Couldn't you buy me a +desert island somewhere—a thoroughly equipped desert +island with hot and cold water and automatic cooking?"</p> + +<p>"I'll see if there's one in the market."</p> + +<p>"It would be a fine addition to the same old town and +country house and yacht. Had you thought where you +will have your—our country place?"</p> + +<p>"Er—no, I hadn't."</p> + +<p>"Shall you have to be at your post much? Are the +office-hours very strict?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty strict. We'd have to live on Governor's +Island, you know."</p> + +<p>"Really? In one of those little houses?" He nodded. +"I saw them there once when they gave a lawn fête. I +never dreamed I'd live in one of them. They aren't very +commodious, are they?"</p> + +<p>"That depends."</p> + +<p>"Nichette—she's my maid—would make an awful row, +and my chauffeur—I suppose we could keep him? He +expects to marry Nichette."</p> + +<p>"Does he?"</p> + +<p>"If they can stop fighting long enough to get married. +Does a garage go with the house we should occupy there?"</p> + +<p>"I doubt it."</p> + +<p>"No garage!" she exclaimed. "How should we manage? +It's rather awkward getting to the Island, too, as +I remember—a ferry or something. I don't suppose you +could arrange to live up-town and do your army work by +telephone on rainy days?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not."</p> + +<p>His heart was thumping. She grew more exquisite as +she grew more fairy-like in her visions. He could not tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +her the truth—not yet—not, at least, till they had passed +through the woods ahead, where there was a promise of +opportunity for at least a moment's embrace, at least +one hasty kiss.</p> + +<p>They jogged on in silence awhile, she pondering like +a solemn child, he longing to give her the toys she kept +imagining. They drew into the thicket, shady and soft +with a breeze that wandered about murmuring "Woo! +woo!" and leaves that whispered "Kiss! kiss!" and a deep +forest voice that mumbled "Love!"</p> + +<p>No one was visible ahead. He turned and stared back. +They were shut in by a projecting hill that seemed to close +after them like a door. He leaned sidewise with arm outstretched +to enfold her waist. But with a quick lift of +her hand and a scratch of the spur she carried her horse +aside and ahead.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't!" she warned. "Really!"</p> + +<p>"But no one can see us."</p> + +<p>"So we thought in the dark hall. And there was some +one there. Do you know who it was?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't been able to find out."</p> + +<p>"I have!" She spoke triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Who was it, in Heaven's name?"</p> + +<p>"Who would be your last guess?"</p> + +<p>"Enslee."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because he smiled; because he let me ride with you."</p> + +<p>"That shows how much a man's reasoning power is +worth. That was just who it was."</p> + +<p>"Why do you think so?"</p> + +<p>"I know so. He told me."</p> + +<p>Forbes was dazed; he marveled aloud: "And yet he +smiled? He let me ride with you?"</p> + +<p>She laughed. "Willie is such an idiot! He knew it +was you; but he never dreamed that the woman was me. +He thought the woman was Mrs. Neff or Winifred. That's +why he smiled at you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes chuckled a moment, then flushed, as Persis +went on:</p> + +<p>"He could only hear our whispers, you know, and you +can't distinguish whispers. He thought it was a great +joke. He laughed his head off. And I laughed too. It +was delicious. It came near being serious, though. What +do you suppose? He heard the door open below and +thought it was a burglar. He had a revolver and a flashlight. +The flash wouldn't work—thank the Lord! So +he was going to shoot first and then call, 'Who's there!' +That would have been nice, wouldn't it? Then he heard +our—our kisses. He didn't shoot. He kept quiet, +smothering his snickers. He could only judge by the +closing of the door who was who. He recognized your +door, and he got mine mixed. But you're not laughing."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem very funny to me," Forbes admitted. +"My love for you is no joke. I don't enjoy sneaking +about in dark halls and having you mistaken for some +other woman."</p> + +<p>She stared at him, and her mischief turned to a deep +tenderness. She rode closer and put her free hand on his +bridle-hand. "How right you are! That's the way I +want you to feel, the way I want you to love me." And +then she laughed again. "What do you suppose Willie +told me? To-night he's going to wait till you sneak out +with your lady bird, and then he's going to lock the door +and make you beg for admission. That'll be nice, eh?"</p> + +<p>"That means I can't be with you to-night."</p> + +<p>"It seems so."</p> + +<p>"And you won't let me kiss you now?"</p> + +<p>"But we couldn't go spooning about in the daylight, +could we? Not even if we were an old married couple, +could we?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not. But when—when are we going to be +an old married couple?"</p> + +<p>"Whenever you say," she said, with a shy down-look. +"We'd have to announce our engagement, I suppose, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +then it would take a long time to get my clothes +made."</p> + +<p>"Would it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I haven't a thing. I'm in perfect rags. And +besides, a bride ought to begin new. Isn't it thrilling to +be talking of such things! Am I blushing as red as I +feel?"</p> + +<p>"You're like a rose on fire."</p> + +<p>"I feel deliciously a ninny. Can you get away from +your hateful army for a good long honeymoon, do you +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Where would you like to go?"</p> + +<p>"The Riviera isn't bad. A trip around the world +would be pleasant."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it!" he groaned. "But I'm afraid I +couldn't."</p> + +<p>"I suppose the country would be afraid to let you get +so far away, with all this talk about trouble with the +Mexicans. Oh, well, it doesn't matter so long as we are +together, does it?"</p> + +<p>"Do you feel that way?" he asked, hungrily.</p> + +<p>"Terribly. I love you—I love you hideously much. +Watch out! Will you never learn that somebody's always +looking?—a whole picnic this time."</p> + +<p>They were nearing Pocantico Lake. In a thicket on +its shores a wagon-load of villagers had finished its basket-lunch +and scattered in a rather dreary effort at inexpensive +happiness.</p> + +<p>Among the trees the wagon waited pitifully to take +them back from their dingy cheer to their dull homes. +It was rendered only the more pitiful by a strip of red-white-and-blue +bunting. A coat of paint would have +become it better.</p> + +<p>While the horses cropped the grass soberly a pack of +substantial wives cleared away such part of the débris +of the banquet as was not scattered about the ground.</p> + +<p>As Forbes and Persis rounded the turn that disclosed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +the revelers a homely couple evidently in search of a less +populous nook severed a highly unromantic-looking clasp. +It was hard to see how either took much pleasure from +the other. The man was in his shirt-sleeves, with his +hat askew; the girl, shapeless and freckled, in a shapeless +freckled dress. They squinted their eyes against the sun, +gaped at the tailor-made couple on the varnished horses, +and stumbled in the roadside gully to let them pass.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it ghastly?" Persis whispered. "They were trying +to spoon—just as we were. And we both broke up +both of us. It makes love rather a silly, shabby spectacle, +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Forbes said. "I should say that +instead of their making love shabby, love covered them +with a little glory."</p> + +<p>"That's a much prettier way to put it. But shabby +people—oh Lord! Look at that family, dear! If that's +wedded bliss, give me chloroform."</p> + +<p>It was a doleful exhibit on the edge of the woods: a +fat, paunchy, sweaty man was taking his picnic in carrying +a squally, messy baby. Alongside him a bunchy +woman with stringy hair waddled in answering stupidity, +hanging to her husband's suspenders.</p> + +<p>"You can't tell which of them's going to have the next +one," Persis commented, before she caught herself. "Forgive +me, I didn't realize how it would sound."</p> + +<p>Forbes laughed sheepishly. "It was what I was thinking, +too."</p> + +<p>As they rode on she shuddered. "What an odious thing +to be like that! Suppose you lost your job in the army +and we got very poor, and I had to take in washing, and +we had a lot of children; should we be like that, do you +think?—should we?"</p> + +<p>"You could never be anything that was not beautiful!" +Forbes exclaimed, partly because he believed it to be +unquestionable truth and partly to quell her ferocious +repugnance for anything that was ugly and tawdry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps that awful man told that awful woman the +same thing," she groaned, "and believed it! Come on; +let's run away from it." She lifted her horse to a gallop +and fled so fast that Forbes, for all the authority and help +he gave his horse, could not overtake her, since hers was +the better mount. As he followed, lumbering and scolding +his black beast, he felt that she was indeed too fleet, +too elusive for him ever to capture and keep.</p> + +<p>But at length she relented, and reined in till he came +abeam. Then she urged her horse on again, and they +galloped in the mad swoop of a cavalry charge with boots +griding together. She forgot her wounded knee, and +he forgot his doubts of her.</p> + +<p>There were narrow escapes, unexpected swerves round +loitering wagons or deliberate wayfarers. Once she rode +up a shelving bank to give him room to avoid a mangy +canine landlord so earnestly attempting to evict a family +of tenants from his left ear that he paid no heed to the +risk of his own life or hers.</p> + +<p>"If we ride fast on levels, we can take more time +later," she said; "then they won't wonder at our being +so late."</p> + +<p>She was always thinking of what other people would +think. He wished that she would forget the eternal +audience, the unbroken spectators, now and then. And +yet it was intelligent. It was wise. Only he loved her +more when she was uttering those childish plans of hers +for a life in which the funds were to be taken from a +fairy purse automatically replenished as fast as it was depleted.</p> + +<p>Yet he feared both of the women she was: the cautious +and forethoughtful who might in all wisdom refuse his +penury, and the spoiled demander who might resent it.</p> + +<p>They trotted now into a park-like domain with roads +branching out on either side. At the edge of each of them +stood a sign-board warning against trespass and signed +with the resounding name of the richest man on earth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They say he's worth a hundred or two hundred million +dollars," Persis called across to Forbes.</p> + +<p>"That ought to be enough," said Forbes. "It's more +than we shall have." And he smiled at the comparison. +Persis sighed:</p> + +<p>"If he could lend us just one million for a few years +we could make good use of it."</p> + +<p>"I might ask him," said Forbes. "I'll send a boy over +for it to-night."</p> + +<p>He said it lightly, yet there was a sardonic bitterness +in his smile. He understood for the moment why the +established poor become so eager to take away from men +who were once poor the wealth they have somehow +amassed.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Forbes that he would never reach the limit +of this man's acres. But at last he escaped from the oppression +of some one else's success. They cantered +through a little village, and crossed rusty railroad-tracks +into another ocean of sparsely settled country. It amazed +Forbes to find so much wilderness so close to so vast a +metropolis. There were long stretches where the woods +on either side had a look of the primeval. He felt a longing +to explore some of these leafy jungles. He told her +his whim, and it was hers.</p> + +<p>By and by they came to a grass-matted road that lost +itself in ferns and undergrowth. Forbes looked at Persis. +Her eyes consented. He laid his bridle-hand on the +left side of his horse's mane and shifted his weight a trifle. +And his horse shouldered hers into the jungle. Heads +bent low, the horses mounted with cautious hoofs till the +ferns were brushing their saddle-girths. The prattle of +a brook somewhere lured them farther, and they pressed +on into a fog of leaves and crackling boughs and +flowers. Birds cried warnings and shot through the +branches, bearing news of the invasion. Others in sentimental +oblivion did not budge, but sat still and went on +sawing the air with silver phrases shrilly sweet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>Suddenly the brook was visible, rushing here and there +through the woods and making noises that were rapture +just to hear. And with that music of water and woods, +and that multitudinous beauty about them, they gazed +only into each other's eyes, inclined together, and locked +arms and breasts and lips in close embrace. They clung +together till the soulless horses, nibbling here and there, +sundered them.</p> + +<p>And then they slid from the saddles and, slipping the +bridles to their elbows, walked on with arms about each +other's bodies and eyes so mutually engaged that they +stumbled like blind folk. At last she sank to the ground +at the edge of the brook, and he, instead of helping her +up, dropped down at her side.</p> + +<p>He took her into his arms again and kissed her and +laughed at her.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you'll warn me now that the horses are looking."</p> + +<p>"No," she said; "but one of them is standing on one +of my coat-tails."</p> + +<p>So he rose and led the horses to a tree a few paces off +and tied them there. When he came back he found her +swinging her little boots over a still pool in an alcove of +the brook. Its quiet surface mirrored her feet from beneath +quaintly. "We're at the antipodes already," he +laughed. She put out her hand beggingly.</p> + +<p>"It's secluded enough for a smoke. Can you give me +a cigarette? I forgot mine." He had nothing but a cigar, +and she ventured a puff or two of that, then gave it back +and sighed, "I wish we were married and all."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I'd take off my boots and dip my poor aching feet in +that water."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, I don't know you well enough to go +barefoot before you. In the second, somebody would be +sure to come along."</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i252" name="i252"></a> +<img src="images/i252.jpg" alt="" /> +<p class="caption">"THERE'S THAT OTHER ME DOWN IN THE POOL, WATCHING THIS ME"</p> + +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not here," he urged.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, there's that other Me down in the pool +watching this Me, and saying, 'Don't make a fool of yourself, +honey.'"</p> + +<p>"There are two Persises, then?"</p> + +<p>"At least a hundred. But there's one down there. +Look, you can see her yourself!"</p> + +<p>She knelt above the water-glass, and he bent over to +gaze. He saw her looking up at him, and his own image +looking up close to hers. They smiled and made faces +like children. And when he rubbed his cheek against +hers the images imitated the foolishness.</p> + +<p>"See, they're mocking us," she said. A little breeze +wrinkled the mirror, and she cried: "They're frowning! +They want us to be sensible! Come along! They'll be +missing us at home."</p> + +<p>"At home?" he echoed, reprovingly.</p> + +<p>"At Willie's, I mean," she corrected. And then she +put his hands away and spoke earnestly. "It came mighty +near being home to me. I have a confession to make. I +ought to have made it before. I have been amazed at +myself for not telling you, for taking your love when I +had no right to."</p> + +<p>He stared at her in terror, and she smiled with pride +at his fear and babbled on almost incoherently.</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid—though I'm glad you are. But I +hope you won't despise me. But I couldn't seem to help +myself. You're really to blame for being so terribly +overwhelming. You see, I—I—I've told you how often +Willie Enslee proposed to me, and—well, one day—that +very day you saw me in my old hat—the first time, you +know—well, I had just had a talk with my father, and +the poor old boy was all cut up about his—his money +matters. He's too nice and sweet to be much of a financier, +you know, and—well, I was scared to death, and I +thought the world was coming to an end, and I'd better—better +get aboard the ark, you know—and I hadn't met<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +you then, you know, and Willie proposed again, and I—I +accepted him."</p> + +<p>"You promised to be his wife!" Forbes whispered, +chokingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered. "I—you see, I didn't know you. +I didn't dream I should ever meet anybody who would—would +thrill me—that's the only word—as you did, as +you do. I didn't imagine that I should ever love as other +people do—insanely, madly, dishonorably—anythingly to +be with the one I loved. And I didn't dare give up Willie +till I was sure I loved you, and when I was sure I loved you, +I—it seemed so hateful even to mention his name. It +would have been like—like this."</p> + +<p>With her heel she pushed a rock into the water, and it +thumped and splashed and curdled the little pool.</p> + +<p>"That's the effect his name would have had on our +moonlight, and I couldn't tell you then. Will you forgive +me, or do you think I'm a hopeless rotter and a +sneak?"</p> + +<p>He smiled at her mixed vocabulary, and gathered her +into his arms. "My love! My Persis! But you'll tell +him now, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, now, yes!" she cried, ecstatic as a comforted child. +"You are glorious to forgive me so easily, and not be +nasty and lecture-y. And see the pool; it's all smooth and +clear again."</p> + +<p>He looked, and held back the confession he was about +to make in his turn. The mention of his poverty would +be pushing another rock into the pool. And he wondered +if the mirror would clear after that. He could forgive her +her betrothal to Enslee because that was of the past; but +the lack of money was not a matter for forgiving and forgetting; +it was something to endure. It was asking love +to accept poverty as a concubine or a mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>He kept silent on that score, and they murmured their +loves and kissed and laughed with contentedness purling +through their hearts, and the world far away. She glanced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +back at the horses blissfully tearing young leaves from +high branches.</p> + +<p>"We ought to keep those horses as a souvenir of our +engagement. It would be a pity to let any one else ride +the dear old brutes, wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It would, indeed!" he said.</p> + +<p>"Let's buy them from Willie. He would sell them for +a song."</p> + +<p>"That's a fine idea," Forbes answered, with a gulp. +He knew how much horses like these were worth—and +saddles, bridles, and stables.</p> + +<p>"We shouldn't want to ride in a car all the time, should +we?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," he answered. She was at her fairy +plans again, and his heart sickened.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't let ourselves get fat. Of all things we +must avoid that," she said. "We might have just a little +car like Winifred's—to hold only two. I could drive +down and get you and bring you home. It would save +wear on our limousine—or perhaps we won't get a limousine +just yet. If we didn't have a big car it would be a +good excuse for not having a lot of people tagging round +with us everywhere, wouldn't it? I feel an awful longing +for a lot of solitude with just you and me. I suppose +we'll have to put up with the United States army. But +I want to shake the gang I've been running with—at least +for a year or so, till you and I can get acquainted. Will +you buy me a little car like Winifred's—a good one? +There's no use wasting money on the cheap kind. The +good little ones cost as much as the good big ones; but +once they're paid for, they don't run up repair bills, and +they take you where you're going instead of dying under +you half-way there. Will you buy me a little car for +just us? You can get a darling for about twenty-five +hundred; I was asking Winifred."</p> + +<p>He made no answer. She turned and looked at him +and saw on his face the look she had seen on her father's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +that day—the look a man wears when he cannot buy his +beloved what she pleads for. Now, as then, Persis felt +ashamed rather than resentful, and she hastened to add:</p> + +<p>"If you can't afford it, old boy, say so. You mustn't +mind me. My father says I'm a terrible asker. Just say +No, and I won't mind. Promise me that, dear. I want +to be a good economical housewife to you; and I was only +thinking that if we had a little car it would save taking +the big car out, and that saves tires and gasolene and +general upkeep."</p> + +<p>He heard Enslee's words, "It's the upkeep that costs," +and they mocked him again. He realized that in persuading +this girl to choose him instead of Enslee, who had +already chosen her, he was not only robbing her of a yacht, +a palace, two or three palaces, half a dozen automobiles, +servants, and servants of servants, foreign travel and foreign +clothes and jewels—he was not only robbing her of +such things, but he was asking her to learn a new way of +life, a habit of infinite denial, eternal economy, and meager +amusement.</p> + +<p>Experience and common sense—for he had them in +large measure in his ordinary life—seemed to bend down +and say: "Let your sea-gull go. She'll die in your cage, +or she'll break it apart."</p> + +<p>But she was in his arms. She was leaning against +him, flicking his boots with her riding-crop, and loving +him, contented utterly. Romance elbowed Reason aside +and said: "See how happy she is. It isn't money that +makes happiness. You're sitting on the edge of a silly +little brook in somebody's backwoods, and you're happy +as a king and queen on a throne of gold."</p> + +<p>Common Sense grinned: "Suppose it should rain? This +is all very well for a while, but what of next winter?"</p> + +<p>Reason and Romance wrangled in his head while she +was babbling something in her elfin economy about, "So +we won't have two cars yet, just one, a nice big 1913 six, +with my chauffeur to run it. Father pays him fifteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +hundred a year, and that's good pay. Don't you let him +wheedle you out of a penny more."</p> + +<p>Forbes' heart cried aloud within him: "My God! her +very chauffeur gets nearly as much as I do!" This was +the spark of resentment that gave him his start. He +spoke bitterly, almost glad that she was dazed. And he +put her away from him that both might be free. And +he savagely kicked a rock into the smiling little pool and +watched it grow turbid as he poured out his confession.</p> + +<p>"Listen, honey; you've got a wrong idea of my situation. +I'm to blame for it, I reckon. I've been meaning to speak +about it, but I didn't—for just the same reason that kept +you quiet about Enslee. I'm not rich, honey. I didn't +tell anybody I was rich, but the idea got started from Ten +Eyck's fool joke about seeing me coming out of a big +bank. I told him the truth, and now I must tell you. +You'll hate me, but you've got to know some time. I'm +not rich, honey."</p> + +<p>"What of it, dear?" she said, creeping toward him. +"I love you for yourself. I never thought you were rich +like Willie. I gave up all that gladly."</p> + +<p>"But I'm what you would call—a pauper, I suppose. +I have only my army pay."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that enough?"</p> + +<p>"Plenty of couples seem to be happy on it, but they're +mostly the sons and daughters of army people. You've +been brought up so differently. Wild extravagances for +our people would be shabby makeshifts to you."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think I'd be able to adapt myself?"</p> + +<p>"Would you?"</p> + +<p>"I should hope so. How much is your army pay, if +you don't mind my asking?"</p> + +<p>"As first lieutenant I get a little over two thousand."</p> + +<p>"Two thousand a week? Why, that's not bad at all. +Why did you frighten me?"</p> + +<p>He laughed aloud, and she corrected herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, two thousand a month. That's about twenty-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>five +thousand a year. It isn't much, is it? But we could +skimp and scrape, and we'd have each other."</p> + +<p>She had given him his death-blow unwittingly.</p> + +<p>He smiled dismally, and groaned:</p> + +<p>"Two thousand a year with forage."</p> + +<p>She stared at him in unbelief. "Two thousand a year +with forage! We couldn't eat the forage, could we? +They give you a pittance like that for being an officer +and a gentleman and a hero?"</p> + +<p>"The hero business is the worst paid of all. Look at +the firemen."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, two thousand a—why, our chef gets +more than that, and our chauffeur nearly as much; and +my father's secretary—everybody gets more than that."</p> + +<p>"Not everybody. The vast majority of people get +much less. But that's what I get."</p> + +<p>She had been prepared for self-denial, but this was self-obliteration. +If he had told her that he had the yellow +fever she could hardly have felt sorrier for him, or more +appalled at the prospect of their union. She loved him, +perhaps, the more for the pity that welled up in her. She +denounced the government for a miser.</p> + +<p>"We're better paid than other armies," said Forbes. +"Officers in foreign armies are supposed to have private +fortunes."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder," she gasped. "And you haven't +any?" He shook his head. "No relatives?"</p> + +<p>"None that aren't poorer than I am."</p> + +<p>She put out her hand and caressed his brow. "Poor +boy, it's cruel, it's hateful! Willie Enslee with all that +money, and you with two thousand a year! And no prospects +for more?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope to be promoted captain very shortly—any +day now I should get my commission. That carries +with it twenty-four hundred a year."</p> + +<p>She sighed. "The little car I wanted would cost more +than that. Well, let it go. Walking is healthier. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +would save the chauffeur's wages, too. And my maid—I +don't know what Nichette would say. But—well, let +her go. Let everything go but you."</p> + +<p>She clasped her arms round him, and he clutched her +tight; but his embrace was like a farewell. She was infinitely +pathetic to him. She had so much sophistication, +and was so innocent of so much. She kissed him tenderly, +but her mood was an elegy.</p> + +<p>"That knocks out my wedding plans, too, doesn't it? +It was the dream of all my life, the ambition of all my +girlhood." And she fell to musing aloud. "Many's the +night I've lain awake planning that wedding, and that +divine wedding-gown all of ivory satin—with a train a +mile long, and with point lace like whipped cream all +over it, and the veil floating in a cloud about me. And +I was to have counts and barons and things for ushers, +and the belles of the season for bridesmaids—all very envious +of me. And the cathedral was to be one ocean of +flowers and silk ribbons, and—and I was to have at least +an archbishop to marry me. And the presents! Oh, +they were to have been so glorious that everybody that +gave them would be bankrupted for life and hate me; and +there were to be no duplicates. And the bridegroom +was to be so wealthy that all the bridesmaids would +loathe me for winning him. And we were to go away in +a private car to a palace built brand new just for me."</p> + +<p>He was so fascinated with watching her soul in debate +with itself that he did not speak. He just held her fast +and listened. She went on:</p> + +<p>"It was a silly dream. It's not the ceremony that +counts—it's the long life after. Love's the main thing, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He lifted her gauntleted hand to his cheek and said +nothing. She was silent a long while. Then she pondered +aloud again: "I wonder what sort of a poor man's +wife I'll make. I'm afraid I'll be an awful failure. You +know, we were poor once—yes. My father got squeezed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +in a corner, and nearly went bankrupt. Oh, but mother +and I had to skimp and scrape! I had to turn my old +gowns, give up our box at the opera, sell my saddle-horses. +We couldn't go to dinners or receptions because we +couldn't return them. We sat at home and received—indignant +creditors. Oh, the bills, the bills—my God, +the bills!</p> + +<p>"At the end of a year father found a man who was +unbusinesslike enough to put him on his feet again. It +was Willie Enslee, of course. We had money once more; +we could hold our heads high, snub those who snubbed +us, get even with those who had patronized us, or—ugh! +insulted us with their sympathy. Oh, money is a great +thing, isn't it? It was like coming out of a cave again +into the sunlight. I used to say I would face anything +rather than poverty again.</p> + +<p>"And think of it, Harvey, when we were at our poorest +we were spending thirty or forty thousand a year. And +we called it poverty. But you and I—two thousand a +year—and forage!</p> + +<p>"Why, Harvey, it would take you a year and a half of +work to pay for the little car I wanted—if we did without +a big car and didn't spend a cent on clothes or theaters +or the opera or taxies or the seaside or Europe or entertaining +people or servants' wages, and—and ate only the +forage. We couldn't have a chauffeur. I couldn't have +my maid. I couldn't have any friends—what should I +do? I couldn't have anything! Those two horses I +wanted would cost a year of your salary. My dressmaker's +bills are four or five times as much, and at that +I never have anything to wear. Why, Harvey, it's frightful! +I never knew what money meant before. I don't +see how we could ever manage it. I don't see how."</p> + +<p>She put his arms away as if they irked her and hampered +her breath. She was breathing hard. Merely to +imagine a life devoid of everything she had always found +about her was like a suffocation. She was understanding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +how a fish must feel when it is drawn from the water and +flung to stifle on dry pebbles. She suffered such dismay +as overwhelms a rat in the bell of an air-pump when the +experimenter begins to create a vacuum.</p> + +<p>She had seen poverty and its wreckage, and her mind +was filled with pictures, not from the charming homes of +moderate means, but from the slums that she had visited +once and avoided thereafter as a nightmare. She had had +friends who had gone into bankruptcy and slunk off into +obscurity to hide its penalties. One very dear woman, +whose husband lapsed from affluence to mediocrity, had +written a few little notes, calmly taken an overdose of a +headache powder, stretched herself out on her mortgaged +chaise-longue and fallen asleep over an unusually sedative +novel. Persis had received one of the notes.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Good-by, Persis dear. You know the situation, and you at +least will understand. Would it be too much trouble for you +to have a little talk with the undertaker man and have things +as nicely managed as possible? Don't let them treat me too +shabbily, will you? I couldn't rest easily even There. You +understand, don't you?</p></blockquote> + +<p>Persis had understood, and, being in funds at the time, +had seen all conducted with taste and even with a little +splendor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>To every one his or her especial cowardice. Persis, so +brave in so many ways, was afraid of creepy things like +caterpillars and creditors and poverty. They spoiled for +her everything that they touched, flower or ceremony or +future.</p> + +<p>She was silent a long while. Forbes longingly set his +arms about her; but she did not respond; her hands were +idly rolling her riding-crop up and down the shin of her +boot, for she was thinking hard.</p> + +<p>Forbes felt that he clung to the mere clothes of her soul. +Herself was already gone from him. Yet he loved her so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +that he found her not unworthy nor selfish nor craven, but +infinitely precious and beautiful, difficult to win and wear.</p> + +<p>A great many shining throngs of water went down the +brook, making all the conversation there was, before Persis +began to flog her boots with her riding-crop. She +wanted to groan, but as was her custom in torment, +smiled instead; and, having something of tragic solemnity +to utter, put it forth with a plucky flippancy:</p> + +<p>"Well, old boy, I'm afraid all bets are off."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES had been recruiting strength to tell her that +he released her; but she anticipated him by jilting +him first—and in sporting terms. He stared at her, but +he could not see the tears raining down in her heart. He +heard her, but was deaf to the immense regret in the little +words she added:</p> + +<p>"You're pretty poor, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>His very forehead was drenched with red shame at such +comment from her. She could see how she had hurt his +pride, and she put on the solemnity he expected her to +wear.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Harvey, I implore you! +I love you all the more for being just your glorious self. +You've paid me the greatest honor I ever had—or shall +have. You asked me to be your wife, and you are willing +to divide up your pitiful little income with me. You'd +give it all to me. You'd run into debt till you smothered. +But it wouldn't work out. Mother was right: 'People +can do without love easier than without money.'"</p> + +<p>"Not people with hearts like yours," he ventured at +last to put in as a feeble objection.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm afraid of this heart of mine," she answered. +"If it had any sense it wouldn't have fallen in love with +you—you of all men. I knew you weren't really terribly +rich, but I didn't think you were so pitifully, cruelly poor."</p> + +<p>The epithet reiterated stung him like a whip in the face. +He protested impatiently:</p> + +<p>"I'm not really poor. Army officers have many ways +of saving expenses. I might not give you princely luxuries, +Persis, but I'd make your life happy."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + +<p>His resistance gave her something to fight, and her resentment +at fate welcomed it.</p> + +<p>"Me happy at an army post? With nothing but poker +for you and gossip for me? No, thank you!"</p> + +<p>She caught a twitch of anger in his brows, and she +grew harsher:</p> + +<p>"Look here! Would you give up your career for me?"</p> + +<p>"A woman can't ask a man to give up his career," he +answered; and she retorted with the spirit of her time:</p> + +<p>"Then why should she give up hers for him?"</p> + +<p>He looked an old-fashioned surprise. "And have you +a career?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I have. Every woman has; and nowadays +a woman has got to look out for herself and her future, +or she'll get left at the post."</p> + +<p>"And what career have you?" he asked, amazed.</p> + +<p>"Marriage. It's the average woman's main business +in life, Harvey. If she fails in that she fails in everything."</p> + +<p>"Then you think the poor have no right to marry?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I'm not such a fool as that. There are people +with simple tastes who can be happy on nothing a year—sweet +domestic women who love to manage and cook and +sweep and mend and sew. There are lots of unhappy rich +women who would be thoroughly contented if they were +the wives of laboring-men. But that doesn't happen to +be my type. I can't help it. I grow positively sick at +the sight of a needle. Even fancy stitching hurts my +eyes. And I can't help that. There are lots of poor +women who are making their homes hells because they +have no money. They'd be angels if they didn't have to +economize. Some people, rich and poor, take a sensuous +delight in watching a bank account grow, and they get +more thrill out of saving a penny than out of getting something +more beautiful for it.</p> + +<p>"But I'm not one of those. I'm a squanderer by nature. +I hate to be denied things. I loathe counting the cost of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +things. I can't endure to see some one else wearing better +things than I've got on. I want to throttle a woman who +has a later hat than mine. Oh, I may be a bad one, Harvey, +but it isn't my fault. I am what I was born to be. +I've got to marry money, Harvey. I've just got to."</p> + +<p>He cried out against her self-portrait as a libel. "Oh, +Persis, don't tell me that you are mercenary—a woman +with a big heart like yours."</p> + +<p>"I'm not mercenary exactly; I loathe money as money, +but I like nice things. I have to have them. I'm trying +to be honest with myself and with you—in time—before +it's too late. It's hard; but I didn't arrange the world, +did I? I didn't choose my own soul, did I? But I've +got to get along with what was given me, haven't I? +I tell you I'd ruin your life, Harvey. You'd divorce me +in a year."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like that, or you will ruin your own life! +There's a big tragedy in store for you, Persis, unless you—"</p> + +<p>She was so tortured with disillusion and with the death +of her first romance that she grew very hard.</p> + +<p>"Well, so long as it isn't the tragedy of being unable +to pay my bills and of eating my own cooking I can stand +it. I'd rather be unhappy than shabby. But it's growing +late; we must get back."</p> + +<p>He aided her to her feet, untied the horses, and offered +her his hand for a mounting-block. But she said:</p> + +<p>"We can walk quicker here than we can ride." Taking +her bridle in her arm, she set out swiftly. She seemed +once more to be running away from something—a shadow +of poverty, no doubt. He felt unspeakably sorry for her. +Again he was about to offer her back her heart when an +abrupt light broke over her face. She paused, laughed, +turned to him.</p> + +<p>"What a fool I am! My father set my sister up in +business as a British peeress and bought her her husband +and settled a whacking dower on her. He can do the same +for me and keep the money in this country—and get me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +a real husband. He could give me enough for us both to +live on comfortably."</p> + +<p>"I reckon I could hardly accept that arrangement," +Forbes said, as gently as he might.</p> + +<p>"You see!" she cried out. "You expect me to murder +my pride and accept poverty, but you won't accept +wealth because you must keep your pride. You couldn't +object to my having the money to spend on myself, could +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I could hardly object to that," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, if everything goes right with my father's +plans we'll have love and money and all. It will be wonderful—heaven +on earth! Kiss me!"</p> + +<p>She put up her lips, and he kissed them and found them +bitter-sweet. Then she strode on with a lilting joy, humming +a song and putting her horse to his paces to keep up +with her. Forbes remembered what Senator Tait had +said of her father's impending doom, and her rapture was +a heartbreak to him—a final irony.</p> + +<p>As they issued from the green cave of the forest and +walked down to the State Road to take the saddle, a +motor came along. Two men were in it. The driver +stopped the car in front of Persis, and the other man +lifted his hat. It disclosed a shock of brindle hair and +half of one eyebrow gone.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me if this road leads to Briarcliff?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so," Persis answered.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Cabot," he called out, as the car +whirred away.</p> + +<p>Persis stared after him in amazement. "Now who was +that? How did he know my name?"</p> + +<p>"By your pictures in the papers," Forbes suggested.</p> + +<p>"No," said Persis; "I've met him somewhere. Oh, I +know. He's a reporter on the—some paper. Lord, I +hope he didn't misconstrue our being here. I didn't like +the grin on his face."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE reporter's fleering smile and his acidulous "Thank +you, Miss Cabot," convinced Persis that the man +had, with the sophistication reporters learn too well, +put the worst possible interpretation on her forest promenade +with Forbes. This was all that it needed to turn +her disappointment into dismay, her bewilderment into +panic. She had lost rhythm with her life and the world.</p> + +<p>She thrust one boot into its stirrup, swung the other +across the saddle, and jerked her horse's head impatiently. +Her temper threw his motor machinery out of gear, and +he found himself with at least two too many feet. He +bolted and sidled in a ragged syncopated gait, snorting +and flinging his head angrily. She could not get him into +meter with himself or her, or with the horse that Forbes +brought clattering alongside.</p> + +<p>At first she had felt infinitely sorry for Forbes and indignant +only at the fate that made him poor. As she rode +her fretful horse she began to feel infinitely sorry for herself +and indignant at Forbes. He had permitted her to +think that he had ample means. He had encouraged her +to love him seriously. Her resentment was the fierce +resentment people feel when those they love and idealize +do not live up to the standards set for them.</p> + +<p>Forbes had come into her life like a bull sauntering +into a china shop. A moment before his entrance everything +was arranged, orderly, exquisite, and formal—a little +cold, perhaps, but charmingly definite. Now everything +was crashing about her. She must walk warily among the +fragments or she would suffer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis was an orderly soul, and had not suspected that +she was also a passionate one. She was more like Forbes +than either of them understood. For all the deep intensity +of his nature, training had made him first the soldier. +In battle he was the fiery warrior; but battles were +infrequent, and almost all his days had been spent in acquiring +and instilling precision, exactness in the manual of +arms, rectitude in the lines of drill formations, perfection +in uniform and equipment, in the company books and +reports—everywhere.</p> + +<p>So Persis had acquired from infancy the rituals of household +service, the proprieties and their observance, the +arrangement of ceremonies, social book-keeping. And +now she was discovering what a disorganizer love is, what +an anarch among plans, what a smasher of china.</p> + +<p>Before the advent of Forbes she had almost given up +the expectation of love. Then out of nothing the fates +evoked this man. If he had confessed even a pittance of +twenty-five thousand a year, that would have meant at +worst "love in a cottage"—cottage being an elastic word. +Friends of hers owned cottages of palatial dimensions. +But two thousand a year—with a prospect of twenty-four +hundred a year! She simply could not imagine it.</p> + +<p>She tried to mask her anger under an unusually cheerful +manner. She spoke with approval of the landscape, +chattered vivaciously about everything, and all the while +was burning with resentment. It was small wonder that +Forbes felt the blight of her wrath when the very horses +knew of it. The most determined politeness can never +imitate the fine flower and bouquet of genuine enthusiasm. +But what could Forbes say to set things right? The one +effective speech would have been a declaration of independent +means, a smiling disclaimer of poverty: "I was +only joking; I am really very rich."</p> + +<p>That would have re-established the <i>entente</i>. But that +was the one thing Forbes could not say. He rode on at +Persis' side, a silent and dejected prisoner of circum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>stances, +a spy captured in the enemy's camp in the enemy's +uniform.</p> + +<p>Eventually they reached the Enslee place—the mountain +that was Enslee's, with the stately pleasure dome +he had decreed there. The majesty of it belittled Forbes +still more. The beauty of it shamed him.</p> + +<p>They trotted across the granite bridge and urged the +horses to the ascent.</p> + +<p>The horses plodded doggedly up and up, and the beauty +of every spot as they reached it wore away Persis' anger. +It was difficult to feel a bitterness against anybody, even +against the fates, when they permitted some aromatic +shrub to throw an almost visible veil of perfume about her, +and another to dandle before her eyes a smiling throng of +blossoms almost audibly singing like clustered cherubim. +The mere dapple of shadow and sun-splash was felicity, +and the white road that curved among its lawns was +voluptuously sinuous, like a tawny Cleopatra on a green +divan or one of Titian's high-hipped Venuses.</p> + +<p>The gardening was formal, the swards were shaved, +the trees seemed to have been whisk-broomed, the shrubs +had been curled and scented; but they were beautiful, +and only wealth could have collected them or kept them +at their best. And above them all loomed the house, a +château of stately charm enthroned in beauty.</p> + +<p>Forbes saw how good it was, and coveted it. But it +was as if Naboth, the soldier, had envied David, the King, +his garden. Persis also saw how good it was, and she +could possess it all, become the châtelaine of this place.</p> + +<p>She spoke her thought aloud:</p> + +<p>"It's this sort of thing, Harvey, that I love and need—beautiful +things and plenty of them."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Forbes groaned.</p> + +<p>"If only you could get them for us!"</p> + +<p>"If only I could!"</p> + +<p>A little farther she checked her horse, whose trunk was +heaving like a bellows. It was in a little colonnade of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +trees with an arched roof of green leaves in more than +Gothic confusion. Birds were everywhere, fluting, fighting, +and building.</p> + +<p>"Listen to them, Harvey," Persis murmured, with a +kind of sad joy, as he reined in alongside. "It's their +courtship-time, too. And the male bird is the better +dressed of the two."</p> + +<p>Forbes noted how sweet her throat was as it arched +back; and the under surface of her chin, how beautiful. +They were no longer his to admire, and bitterness came +into his heart. His smile was close to a sneer as he said:</p> + +<p>"The males put on their Sunday best and pour out +their finest songs, and the lady bird chooses, they say, +the one that wears the best clothes."</p> + +<p>She gave him a look that was both rebuking and rebuked, +and urged her horse along. But a little later her +response to beauty filled her again with the contentment +of repletion, and she checked her horse by the marble-walled +pool, whose surface was broken and circled here +and there by gleaming red fish with lacy fins and tails; +they were darting and leaping in acrobatic ecstasies.</p> + +<p>"They're making love, too, I suppose," Persis said, a +trifle anxiously.</p> + +<p>And he was still aggrieved enough to answer: "And +the fish ladies also select the gentleman with the most +gold."</p> + +<p>She stared at him a moment, hurt and shamed. Then +she flung back at him:</p> + +<p>"Then you oughtn't to blame us—us other females for +making the wisest choice we can. It must be a law of +nature."</p> + +<p>"It must be," he sighed, so humbly that she regretted +her victory. She would have put out her hand to comfort +him, but she saw above them Willie Enslee leaning +across the balustrade. She lifted her horse into a jog-trot, +and they rode into the court, where a chauffeur waited +to take the horses to the stable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<p>Willie greeted them in his whiniest tone.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth were you? We've been home for +ages."</p> + +<p>"We got off the main road," Persis said, as she climbed +the steps, followed by Forbes, "and the horses were tired +and—"</p> + +<p>"I was awfully anxious. I was about to start out to +look for you."</p> + +<p>"There was no occasion to be anxious."</p> + +<p>"Besides, your father telephoned you."</p> + +<p>"My father! Is he back in New York?"</p> + +<p>"No; he telephoned from Chicago. He was just leaving +on the twenty-hour train. He couldn't wait till you +got back."</p> + +<p>"What did he have to say?"</p> + +<p>"Lots." Willie looked uneasily at Forbes, as if he were +in the way.</p> + +<p>"I'll be changing for dinner," Forbes said, with uncomfortable +haste.</p> + +<p>"You'd better be cooking the dinner," Willie said. +"Winifred is counting on your soldierly experience to +help her out."</p> + +<p>So Forbes went to the kitchen to salute and report for +duty. As he entered the house he looked back to see +Enslee leading Persis toward the marble steps to the little +temple where he proposed regularly.</p> + +<p>Forbes' heart thudded heavily in his breast. He felt +helpless to protest or intervene in any way. Persis was +up at auction. He had bidden her in under a misapprehension +of the upset price, and she was put back for sale +again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">AS she mounted the steps with Willie, Persis felt something +of Forbes' regret. She was a slave on the +block, and the man she wanted for owner was crowded +from the mart.</p> + +<p>"What did father have to say?" she asked, in a dull +tone already despairing.</p> + +<p>"I—I—it wasn't very pleasant."</p> + +<p>"Hand it to me."</p> + +<p>"He said to break it to you gently."</p> + +<p>"Well, speak up, Willie. Break it! For the Lord's +sake, break it!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, won't you?" He led her to a bench in the +temple. "I hardly know where to begin."</p> + +<p>"Begin at the ending."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, your poor governor—"</p> + +<p>"Has lost all his money?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes—in a way."</p> + +<p>"It's getting to be rather a habit with the poor old +boy, isn't it? Is he smashed up badly?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty badly."</p> + +<p>"The house in town and the country place will have to +go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so."</p> + +<p>"The cars and the horses—my car, too?"</p> + +<p>"Looks like it."</p> + +<p>"Then I needn't worry about it's being a last year's +model," she laughed. Willie stared at her admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Gad, but you're a good loser."</p> + +<p>"I try to be; an easy winner, an easy loser. I'm awfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +sorry for father, though. Did you—did you tell him +anything?"</p> + +<p>"I told him we were engaged."</p> + +<p>She shivered and mumbled, "What did he say to +that?"</p> + +<p>"He seemed immensely relieved. He said, 'God bless +her.' His voice was very faint, but I think that's what +he said."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he said, 'God help her.'"</p> + +<p>"Maybe he did," Willie sighed. "Anyway, we're to +meet him in town to-morrow."</p> + +<p>He stared at her with hungry eyes, and his little lean +fingers crept toward the exquisite hand of hers that lay +supine, relaxed, with upturned fingers like the petals of +an open rose. He took that flower in his hands timidly. +She looked down into his famished eyes and smiled pitifully—perhaps +a little for him, certainly for herself.</p> + +<p>He overestimated the tenderness in her gaze and +squeezed her fingers in his. She winced and drew her +hand away.</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully sorry I hurt you," he said.</p> + +<p>"It was this ring again," she explained, though she had +not meant to say the "again."</p> + +<p>"My ring? Our ring?" he murmured, with such joy +that her sportsmanship compelled a last effort at playing +fair.</p> + +<p>"Under the circumstances," she said, "I think I'd +better return it to you—with thanks for the loan."</p> + +<p>"I don't want it back!" he gasped. "I won't have it +back."</p> + +<p>"You didn't agree to marry a beggar."</p> + +<p>"I want to marry you—just you," he pleaded. "The +engagement stands."</p> + +<p>"You're terribly polite, but I can't—not for charity."</p> + +<p>"Charity—bosh!" he stormed. "I can't get along +without you. You couldn't get along without a lot of +money, Persis. If—if you'll let the engagement stand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +I'll put your father on his feet again. I'll—I'll do anything."</p> + +<p>"How put him on his feet? I thought he was smashed?"</p> + +<p>"He went to Chicago to raise a lot of money. He +couldn't. He's coming back to face the music. It's a +funeral march unless—unless—well, I could take up his +obligations. I don't understand it very well myself, to +say nothing of explaining it to you. But I've got a lot +of money, and money is what your father's enemies want. +He'll be all right if he's tided over the shallow places. +So for my sake and your governor's, let me announce the +engagement."</p> + +<p>"Think what people would say. It looks so hideously +mercenary on my part."</p> + +<p>"We can prove that we were engaged before this thing +threatened. Everybody will have to confess it's a true love +match on both sides. Please, please, Persis! pretty please!"</p> + +<p>She resigned herself to all the shames she foresaw, and +sighed:</p> + +<p>"All right, Willie, it will brace Dad up a bit."</p> + +<p>"Is he the only one you think of?" Willie pouted. +"Haven't you a word of—of love for me?" He wrung +her hands in his little claws again, and they set her nerves +on edge. She wanted to shriek her detestation of her +plight; but she controlled herself enough to keep down +her feelings. She could not, however, mimic love where +she felt loathing—the best she could do was to mumble:</p> + +<p>"We can't very well play a love scene up here before +everybody, can we? I may feel more enthusiastic when +I've had a bath and a change of costume."</p> + +<p>She broke from him and hurried down the steps. He +overtook her half-way to plead:</p> + +<p>"Let me announce our engagement now—to the people +here."</p> + +<p>"Not now," she pleaded; "not here!" And she ran +on. But he followed chuckling. He had a great dramatic +idea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THAT was an extraordinary dinner. The famished +aristocracy hovered about the kitchen porch like +waifs, pleading for the privilege of assisting. Ten Eyck +wanted to scour the cake-dish or put raisins in something. +He and the rest were set to work dusting the palatial +dining-hall and bringing forth the best Enslee plate. +Willie stood by and warned them to be careful. He was +in so triumphant a humor that he felt nearly like breaking +something himself.</p> + +<p>When at last the board was decked, the candelabra +alight, fresh flowers lavished everywhere, and chairs +arranged, the guests were ravenous.</p> + +<p>"Do we dress for dinner?" said Ten Eyck. Winifred +threw a boiled potato at him. It grazed Mrs. Neff, who +swore splendidly and was prepared to respond with a +mop when disarmed.</p> + +<p>It was one of the necessities of the feast that the entire +body of guests should be also the corps of waiters. The +service would have appalled the shabbiest butler. There +were woeful collisions at the deadly swinging doors; +wine-glasses that had been made in Bohemia and monogrammed +there were splintered. A wonderful soup-tureen +of historic associations was juggled and lost. It +fell on a venerable rug of every color except spilled soup. +The tureen was picked up empty and badly dented.</p> + +<p>But nothing could check the riot. There were battles +around the serving-tables in the kitchen and the pantry +and at the sideboard. Those who got their plates filled +rushed to their places like fed dogs dispersing each with +its bone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>Winifred was exhausted by her long day's work. She +made no pretense of toilet, but followed her viands in and +slumped into her chair with sleeves rolled up, knees apart, +and the general collapsed look of cooks.</p> + +<p>Forbes had taken off his coat for his kitchen work. +Winifred would not let him put it on again.</p> + +<p>"My butler and footmen eat with their livery on the +back of their chairs," she said. "We'll make this a regular +banquet in the servants' hall."</p> + +<p>The idea pleased everybody but Willie. They had all +happened into the servants' dining-rooms during the +meals of those weary ministers, so now they sprawled and +gobbled and chattered in the best imitation they could +improvise.</p> + +<p>"Our own people are probably eating at our own tables +at home," said Mrs. Neff, "and passing scandal with +every plate."</p> + +<p>"There's the one thing missing to make this a true +servant's soirée," said Ten Eyck—"a lot of down-stairs +gossip. I am now Willie's man: 'Whatever do you suppose +I turned up this morning whilst I was unpacking the +mahster's bag after his trip to Philadelphia—a receipted +bill for five-and-twenty dollars for Mr. and Mrs. William +Jones, one night's lodging, so 'elp me!'"</p> + +<p>Everybody glanced at Willie, but he giggled. "You +flatter me."</p> + +<p>Alice, with the sophistication that young women have +apparently always had except in fiction, put up her hand +reprovingly to Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>"No depravity, no depravity! Remember my young +mother is present. Now I'm our second man talking to +my maid: 'My Missus, for all she's so crool to her darling +dorter Aluss, do you knaow the hour she come in lawst +night? Nao? Four o'clock this mornin', she did! +Strike me if she didn't!'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff smiled and retaliated: "Now I'm Alice's +Hibernian maid: 'At that the ould shrew had nothin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +on Miss Aluss. Whilst her mother was toorkey-trattin', +wasn't the darlin' child after tahkin' four dollars' worth +of baby-tahk over the telephone to that young bosthoon +of a Stowe Webb.'"</p> + +<p>"How on earth did you find out?" said Alice.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff's answer was further revelation of the domestic +secret service: "It's a nice little colleen, Aluss is, +and pays me liberal for smooglin' notes in and out of the +house. And then the ould woman pays me still more +liberal to bring the notes to her first. It's a right careful +mother she is."</p> + +<p>Alice stared in horror, and Mrs. Neff tee-hee'd like a +malicious little girl. Winifred came to Alice's rescue with +a cross-fire:</p> + +<p>"Now I'm Mrs. Neff's secretary talking to my little +niece's governess."</p> + +<p>"Help, help!" cried Mrs. Neff. "No fair, Winifred. +I had to discharge the cat. If you dare, I'll give an +imitation of your laundress talking to—"</p> + +<p>"I surrender," said Winifred, hastily.</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Ten Eyck. "As Connie Ediss sang, +'It all comes out in the wash.'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff put up her hand. "As official duenna of +this family, I think we'd better change the game or put +out the lights."</p> + +<p>"That's a fine idea!" said Ten Eyck. "A game of tag +in the dark."</p> + +<p>"Not in my dark!" said Willie, sternly, with a calm +incisiveness that surprised everybody and ended the project +before it was begun.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck complained: "We came here to be rid of the +spying servants, and we've been more respectable than +ever."</p> + +<p>"Crowds are almost always respectable," said Mrs. +Neff, "unless they're drunk."</p> + +<p>"Everybody is almost always respectable," said Ten +Eyck. "Even the worst of us only sin for a few minutes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +at a time. A murder takes but a moment, and thieves +are notorious loafers. This talk of a life of sin is mostly +rot, I think. Sin is a spasm, not a life."</p> + +<p>"It's the remorse and the atonement that make up the +life," said Mrs. Neff.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, how funereal we are," said Persis, "talking +about sin and spasms and remorse when the flowers are +blooming and the moonlight is pounding on the windows! +We ought to be—"</p> + +<p>"Washing the dishes," said Winifred, rising. "Come +on, the all of youse, clear up this mess and get into the +suds. Persis and Mrs. Neff and Alice are the dish-washing +squad to-night, and Willie and Murray can wipe them dry."</p> + +<p>"We haven't had our smoke yet," protested Mrs. Neff. +A respite was granted for this.</p> + +<p>Everybody smoked but Alice.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you, Alice?" said Winifred. +"Sore throat?"</p> + +<p>Alice shrugged her shoulders and answered, "Ask my +awful mother."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff flicked the ashes off her cigarette. "My +father always used to tell my brothers that tobacco +wouldn't hurt them if they didn't smoke till they were +twenty-one. I think it applies to women also."</p> + +<p>"Great heavens!" said Winifred, pretending to put +away her cigarette, "I've ruined my life. No wonder I'm +wasting away."</p> + +<p>"Eighteen is the legal age for women," said Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>Winifred resumed her cigarette with a mock childishness. +"Then I can just qualify. I was eighteen last—"</p> + +<p>"Last century, my dear?" Mrs. Neff cooed.</p> + +<p>"For that you can scrub the pots and pans, darling," +Winifred crooned. "And I was going to let you off with +the wine-glasses. Another crack like that and I'll have +you stoking the range."</p> + +<p>"I am a martyr in the cause of truth," Mrs. Neff +groaned. "Come on; let's get it over with."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>Winifred was a sharp taskmaster, and so bulky that +none of the women dared to disobey. Nor the men either. +Forbes was for helping Persis and saving her delicate hands, +but Winifred would not have him in the pantry at all:</p> + +<p>"The little snojer cooked the dinner, and he gets a furlough. +If I could trust the rest of you I'd walk with him +in the moonlight and let him hold my dainty white mitt +in his manly clasp."</p> + +<p>Forbes was banished, and spent his exile pacing up and +down smoking and peering in at the window, where Persis, +aproned and wet-armed and with a speck of soot on her +nose, buried her jeweled fingers in greasy dish-water, +and smoked the while her customary cigarette. She was +more fascinating than ever to Forbes, whose mind kept +ringing the domestic chimes.</p> + +<p>When the kitchen and dining-room chores were done +to the satisfaction of Winifred, who demanded as much of +her amateur scullions as she would have demanded of her +own servants, they were all exhausted. Returning to the +living-room, they sprawled in those inelegant attitudes +that tired laborers assume. Their minds were jaded with +their muscles.</p> + +<p>"I never understood before why my servants are so +snappy at night," said Mrs. Neff. "If anybody speaks +to me I'll cry."</p> + +<p>"Pull down your skirts, at least, mother," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"They're too far away," sighed Mrs. Neff. "And nobody's +interested in my old legs."</p> + +<p>Alice, with the fierce decency of the young, rose wearily, +bent down, put her mother's ankles together, and covered +them with the skirt.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it odd," sighed Mrs. Neff, "how we pretend +that old people must go along to chaperon the young? +It ought to be the other way about."</p> + +<p>Alice was too tired to get up. She sank on the floor and +laid her head on her mother's knee. And Mrs. Neff put +out a thin, white hand upon the girl's soft hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's a nice little girl, sometimes," she sighed.</p> + +<p>"And it would be a nice little mother," said Alice, +"if—"</p> + +<p>"Don't say it, my child. He's not the man for you +at all. I know best. I'm thinking of your happiness." +Alice shrugged a skeptical comment.</p> + +<p>Her mother went on: "Do you remember how you had +all the chocolate creams you wanted—once? You couldn't +look at one for a year after. Well, living on love alone is +like trying to live on chocolate creams alone. And he +couldn't afford even to keep you in chocolate creams."</p> + +<p>Alice made no answer. She sat studying her own +thoughts.</p> + +<p>Forbes felt a sudden kinship with Alice's absent lover +and beloved, this Stowe Webb, whose crime was lack of +money. He imagined that Persis' mother had told her +the same cold things that Alice was hearing now. He +began to believe that many daughters must hear such +financial talk against love from their mothers. He had +heard so many married women scoff at love as a delusion. +He wondered if, after all, it were not really man, rather +than woman, who is the romantic animal.</p> + +<p>"Men," he pondered, "write the great poems and the +great romances, paint the great pictures, fight the great +fights against nature and ignorance and oppression and +poverty. They compose the great music, supply the demand +for love songs and love stories, and build the places +to love in. Then they lay their wealth and ambition and +achievement at the feet of little women, and each little +woman selects from those that gather at her feet the one +that she thinks will dress her best and house her best and +give her the best time."</p> + +<p>He had read much in books, written chiefly by gallant +gentlemen whose flattery was greater than their accuracy, +that woman was a slave, a toy, a plaything, a victim of +man's cruelty. Now he began to believe that in the vast +bulk of instances the reverse was true. The little women<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +set their feet on the men's necks and rode upon their +shoulders, and when they were displeased pulled the +men's hair, poked fingers into their eyes, or abandoned +them entirely.</p> + +<p>He felt again what he had felt when he studied Fifth +Avenue and its womankind; for every woman's finery +some man pays. Woman was the grasping sex, the exacting, +yet extravagant sex. The eternal feminine was the +eternal calculatrix.</p> + +<p>He had wondered what these women paid for what they +got from men. He believed now that he had found the +answer. They paid with their bodies, their kisses, the +encircling of arms, the cooing of tender words. In return +for so much money they granted permission to spend +yet more.</p> + +<p>He studied Persis; how beautiful she was, how soft and +gracile, how apt to endearments! Yet she held herself +at a price, at a high price, and called it pride, self-protection. +What was it but self-exploitation?</p> + +<p>Yet what man ever desired an object less because it +was beyond his means? Persis was certainly no less adorable +to Forbes because he could not buy her. He would +have to get along without her. But, having once held her +in his arms while she held him in hers, he would never +cease to desire her. Like the father of a spendthrift child, +he rather felt ashamed of himself for being incompetent +to meet her demands, than contemned her for making them.</p> + +<p>After a while of silent meditation Mrs. Neff spoke up, +briskly:</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing that would rest me, and that's +a tango. Where are those records we bought this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>On the homeward way the motor party had passed a +shop where disks were kept, and had bought up the entire +visible supply of latter-day tunes to replace the dances +of yesteryear. There was general agreement that it was +high time to turkey-trot again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll run the machine," said Winifred. "Bob Fielding +isn't here, and I'll be true to his memory for a dance or +two."</p> + +<p>"I choose to dance with Major General Forbes," said +Mrs. Neff, "unless he's otherwise engaged."</p> + +<p>"Before we dance," said Willie, "I have an announcement +to make. Ladies and gentlemen, so to speak"—he +cleared his throat and ran his fingers round inside his +tight collar—"I am about to—er—give birth—er—to an +after-dinner speech—my first and only."</p> + +<p>"Hear! Hear!"</p> + +<p>"Some time ago Miss Persis—er—Cabot, whom you +all know, did me the—er—unspeakable honor of consenting +to become Mrs. William—er—Enslee. Circumstances +rendered it—er—advisable to defer—er—the publication +of the glorious—er—news, so to speak. But Miss Cabot +has to-night given me—er—permission to announce—"</p> + +<p>"I have not!" Persis broke in; but Willie put up his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Order in the court—er! Anyway, now you know the +worst. You behold in me the happiest man on—er—earth."</p> + +<p>There was a round of applause, and Ten Eyck proposed +"three lusty chahs and a tigress for the—er—bride and—er—groom—er."</p> + +<p>Forbes felt as if a shell full of shrapnel had burst at +his feet. Military instinct brought his heels together, +and he stood as erect as Dreyfus did when they tore the +buttons from his tunic and snapped his sword in two +before him. He stared at the revel that broke out around +Persis and Enslee. In his eyes it had something of the +hideousness of savages dancing. It was a torture dance, +and he was the man at the stake.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES tried to smile, but his muscles seemed unable +to support his lips. He heard much noise, yet distinguished +nothing till he seemed to wake suddenly at +finding Willie Enslee smirking up at him.</p> + +<p>"You haven't congratulated me, Mr. Ward—er—Forbes."</p> + +<p>Forbes seized Enslee's small hand and wrung it, and +said in a tone more fitted to condolence:</p> + +<p>"I do congratulate you, indeed, and Miss Cabot, I—I +congratulate her."</p> + +<p>He tried to look at her, but Willie was clinging to his +hand and driveling on: "I want to thank you for—er—at +least trying to save her when her horse bolted this +morning. They told me you were—er—quite splendid, +and I take it as a—er—personal favor."</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it, please."</p> + +<p>"And now let's—er—dance," said Willie. "I will +dance with the blushing bride, if you don't mind. Let +'er go, Winifred."</p> + +<p>Winifred set off the Victrola, and a blare of nasal +cacophony broke from the machine imitating a steamboat +whistle; then ensued a negroid music of infinite +inappropriateness to Forbes' tragic mood. He saw the +woman who loved him, and whom he loved, tagged and +claimed by a contemptible pygmy, the accidental inheritor +of wealth. He saw his beautiful Persis in the fellow's +incompetent arms and her body drooping over him as if +he had carried her off in a kind of burlesque rape of the +Sabines. The music was not Wagnerian epopee, nor were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +the words something from Sophokles; it was a romping +ditty about</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">'Way down on the lev-ee<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In old Alabam-y,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There's daddy and mam-my,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">There's Ephraim and Sam-my<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On a moon-light night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Forbes felt Mrs. Neff's presence in front of him. Her +wiry arms clutched him and danced him away. She was +chattering reproaches because he had not taken her advice +and captured Persis for himself. And her unwitting +irony ran on against the words that Alice and Ten Eyck +were singing as they danced:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Watch them shuf-flin' along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See them shuf-flin' along.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go take your best—gal—real—pal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go down to the lev-ee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I said to the lev-ee,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And join that shuf-flin' throng.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hear that mu-sic and song.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's simply great—O mate.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waitin' on the levee, waitin' for the <i>Robert E. Lee</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Forbes felt a ribaldry in the whole situation, an intolerable +contumely. He watched Persis darting here +and there as Willie urged her. The little whelp could +not keep time to the music, and his possession of Persis +was as grotesque as the presence of a gargoyle on a cathedral. +But cathedrals are thick with gargoyles, and life +is full of such pairings.</p> + +<p>For the second dance Forbes demanded Persis, and +she granted him the privilege with some terror; the look +on his face had alarmed her.</p> + +<p>The music now celebrated "dancing with the Devil; +oh, the little Devil! dancing at the Devil's ball." There +was a fiend raging in Forbes' heart, and something infernal +in the frenzy with which he whipped Persis this +way and that.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me?" he groaned. "Why didn't +you warn me? The last I knew was that you and I were +to be married. And suddenly that man speaks up and +claims you. And you don't deny it. What in God's +name does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"Not so loud, my love!"</p> + +<p>"'My love?'" he quoted. "You can call me that?"</p> + +<p>"You're not going to make a scene, are you?" she +whispered, trembling in his arms.</p> + +<p>"A scene!" he laughed. "Is that your greatest terror +in life?"</p> + +<p>"One of them."</p> + +<p>"You intended to marry him, and you let me kiss you! +Were you simply making a fool of me?"</p> + +<p>("<i>At the Devil's ball, at the Devil's ball.</i>")</p> + +<p>"No, Harvey, no! I love you. It is you that were +making a fool of me. I can explain, but I don't think you +would understand."</p> + +<p>("<i>I saw the cute Mrs. Devil, so pretty and fat.</i>")</p> + +<p>"When will you explain?"</p> + +<p>"The first chance I get."</p> + +<p>("<i>Dressed in a beautiful fireman's hat.</i>")</p> + +<p>"To-night?"</p> + +<p>"I don't dare. Willie is going to stand guard, as he +said he would. Seeing you dancing with Mrs. Neff, he +was just telling me what a joke it would be to lock you +out. He's going to pretend to go to bed. Then he's +going to slip down-stairs, lock the front door, and wait +till you and Mrs. Neff come back. Isn't it ridiculous?"</p> + +<p>("<i>Dancing with the Devil; oh, the little Devil!</i>")</p> + +<p>"Everything on earth is ridiculous, but nothing is so +ridiculous as I am."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, dear."</p> + +<p>"'Dear!'" he echoed, bitterly. "When do I see you, I +say?"</p> + +<p>("<i>Dancing at the Devil's Ball.</i>")</p> + +<p>"There's no chance."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then I'll make one. I'll—I'll come to your room."</p> + +<p>"Oh, in Heaven's name, are you mad? Or do you think +I am? Mrs. Neff's room adjoins mine. She could hear +the softest whisper."</p> + +<p>"Then let Willie Enslee lock us out."</p> + +<p>She saw that he was in a frenzy. He had the bit in +his teeth. He would bolt in a moment. She thought +hard and swiftly. Then she said:</p> + +<p>"There's just one way. When I was playing chambermaid +to-day I wandered about and found the servant's +stairway in the service wing. It leads down into the +kitchen. We could get from there into the dining-room +and the drawing-room. There's a great window there—well +cut off from view. I don't think Willie or anybody +would see us there. Listen for Willie's door, and when +he has gone down into the front hall, slip out and tiptoe +down the service stairs to the kitchen and wait for me +there. Will you?"</p> + +<p>It was a nauseating rôle to play; but he was bent upon +making a last appeal to her before they returned to town +on the morrow. He whispered his assent to the elaborate +deceit, and made a whirlwind of the last measures of +the tune, "Dancing with the devil; oh, the little Devil! +dancing at the Devil's ball!"</p> + +<p>And then he and Persis, dizzy on the swirling floor, +reeled to chairs and sat gasping for breath. Mrs. Neff, +passing on Willie's arm, urged Forbes to give Alice the +next dance, and he obeyed, surrendering Persis to Enslee, +who was so elate with triumph that only the braggart +pomp of the tango could express him.</p> + +<p>Alice was lonely and forlorn, and so much in Forbes' +mood that they were unintentional parodies on each +other. Forbes remembered his talk with Senator Tait, +and, feeling that Alice was desperately in need of comfort, +told her the whole conversation. If she resented the discussion +of her affairs and her mother's plans, she kept +silent; but when he told her that Senator Tait had vowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +to help her defeat Mrs. Neff's match-making plot by giving +Stowe Webb a position she became a mænad of joy. +She italicized every other word, and declared herself +insanely grateful. She declared now that she simply +idolized the Senator, and had always thought him the +most adorable of men in every respect except the quality +of husband.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid he won't give Mr. Webb much of a salary +to begin with," Forbes said, to moderate her fantastic +hopes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't care how little it is," Alice panted, "so +long as it's enough for us two to live on, if we have to +live in a Harlem flat eleven stories high and no elevator!"</p> + +<p>She made so startling a contrast with Persis that +Forbes regretted thinking her shallow and hysterical. +Under her volatile explosiveness was evidently a deep +store of loyalty, as under Persis' reposeful manner was +a shifty uncertainty, a terror of consequences. "Still +waters run deep" was plainly as fallible as any other +proverb, for very shallow ponds may lie very calm, and +very spluttering geysers may come from far underground.</p> + +<p>But it is one thing to approve and quite another to love. +Forbes admired Alice, but he loved Persis. He approved +Alice as much as he distrusted Persis. But he loved +Persis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THERE were not many more dances before Willie, in +his new capacity of Benedick-to-be, declared for early +closing hours, and ordered his guests off to bed, warning +them that the next morning the caravan would set out +on its return betimes in order that Persis might "break +the news to her father as soon as he got back." So +Willie phrased it, and flattered himself that it was rather +considerate and tactful to put it so.</p> + +<p>When good-nights were said, and Forbes had gone to +his room, Ten Eyck came in to smoke a night-cap cigar. +His words were congratulatory, but his intent was sympathetic.</p> + +<p>"You looked a bit cut up, old boy," he said, "when +Willie, with his usual tact, exploded the news of his marriage. +I hope you weren't hit too hard. I warned you, +you know."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Forbes; "I promised you I wouldn't +take Miss Cabot seriously. I—I admit I was surprised. +That's all. And it rather shocks me to think of so—so—of +her tying up with a man like Enslee. That's all."</p> + +<p>"It's her own choice," said Ten Eyck. "And it's a +good choice. She can't bankrupt the Enslee estates, +and she'll earn all she squanders. Being the wife of Willie +Enslee is not going to be any sinecure, believe me.</p> + +<p>"And the sooner she's married to Enslee and beyond +your reach, the better for your peace of mind and the +efficiency of the U. S. A. Get back on the job, Forbesy. +You're too important a man to be wasting yourself even on +a siren like Persis. I believe in sirens, and I like to hear 'em +sing; but they don't convince me one little minute, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +I drop anchor at a safe distance from the reef. Promise +me you won't let Persis haunt you. Get yourself a pretty +canary and forget the siren, eh what?"</p> + +<p>"That's the best of advice," Forbes assented.</p> + +<p>He thought that he sounded convinced; but Ten Eyck +shook his head and masked a sigh as a yawn.</p> + +<p>"Am I as deadly as all that? And papa always told +me that the man who gives the best of advice might better +have saved his breath for blowing out his candle. Instead +of more advice I will now do so. Good night!"</p> + +<p>And he closed his door.</p> + +<p>Forbes knew that Ten Eyck was right, and told himself +so. He told himself that common decency, self-respect, +Persis-respect, and respect for the rights of a host +and a fiancé forbade him to keep tryst with Persis. And +having resolved that the one thing he ought not to do +was to sneak down the servants' stairs, he sneaked down +the servants' stairs—after he had put out his light, opened +his door delicately, and waited till he heard Enslee open +his door and tiptoe down to the entrance hall.</p> + +<p>As Forbes waited in that least poetic of bowers, the +kitchen, he felt like a thief. He had abundant time for +pondering what a destroyer of dignity love is. But Persis +came at last, and so silently and so vaguely through +the moonlight that he could hardly believe her to be more +than a phantom.</p> + +<p>She gave him a hand, however, that was warm and +human, and when he caught her in his arms and she +yielded rather than struggle, her body was as real as rose-leaves +and lilies, a delight to his embrace; and her cheek +such a sweetmeat to his lips that he dismissed all scruples +as follies beneath contempt.</p> + +<p>When she had extricated herself from his clasp she +took his hand and led him through the butler's pantry +and its swinging door, across the moonlit dining-room, +through a majestic somber portal into a cave of black +gloom, which was the salon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you a match?" she whispered. "If you haven't +I have."</p> + +<p>"I have a cigar-lighter," he whispered.</p> + +<p>He snapped the little engine, and a small, blue flame +threw a sickly light that helped them to find a channel +through the islands of chairs and divans and tables, to +the lofty hangings masking the windows.</p> + +<p>The wee taper gave Forbes a glimpse as well of the +place he was in.</p> + +<p>This superb chamber had not been opened to the present +guests. It was still in its winter garb, the portraits +in shrouds, and chairs and tables disguised in winding +sheets. There was the hint of a mortuary vault about the +place. The walls were of Istrian stone hung with gray +tapestries of unhappy lovers. The floor was of marble +devoid of rugs—they were rolled up against the walls like +mummies. The mantel was a huge carved structure. +In this dull light it might have been a funeral monument. +Noises seemed to be repeated here with spooky comment, +and to Forbes the spirit in the air was ominous.</p> + +<p>Persis knew the room well, and remembered it as she +had first seen it glowing with color, flooded with sunlight, +and crowded with gorgeous people; she did not feel the +oppression that weighed on Forbes.</p> + +<p>To her it was a clandestine romance—the sort of poetic +encounter she had read about in ever so many books. +Her heart was beating with terror of discovery and +ecstasy of adventure. When she gained the window she +reached up and persuaded the hangings back on gently +tinkling rings. A well of moonlight was revealed—a +broad, padded seat in front of a tall mullioned window. +Within the window was a smaller window, and she swung +this back.</p> + +<p>Into the dreary air of the unvisited room flowed a little +brook of perfumed breeze scented with the lilacs it streamed +across. It shook with all gentleness the hair about +Persis' face and the soft lace around her throat. For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +now she was not in boyish riding-duds with collar and +cravat, but in the exquisite trifle of a silken house gown +she had put on for dinner.</p> + +<p>She was so beautiful in Forbes' eyes that the very +faults he had found in her seemed to enhance her. The +absence of utility and reliability and other homely virtues +seemed to leave her the unmarred unity of futile, +fragile loveliness. But this was the fantasy of the moment +only. She had no sooner spoken than she was +committed to something more than a vision for the eyes.</p> + +<p>She smiled at him, and he gathered her up into his arms +once more and gave and took a blindly sweet kiss from her +smiling lips.</p> + +<p>When he released her from this constraint she sighed +luxuriously:</p> + +<p>"Well, Harvey, it seems as if all the happiness in the +world had to be sneaked, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>Instantly he realized again the dishonesty of their +communion.</p> + +<p>"Is that your creed?" he groaned.</p> + +<p>"It's my experience. Stolen fruit, you know—"</p> + +<p>"I hate stolen fruit. I want to have the right to +own—you."</p> + +<p>"You do—pretty nearly."</p> + +<p>"I want everybody to know it. I want you to be my +wife. It's not too late, if you love me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no question of that, for I do love you. +You are—it's funny how hard it is to find new expressions +for anything you really mean, isn't it? All I can think +of is the same old comic-paper line: you are the only man +I ever loved. But—oh, Lord, if you only had a little +more money! For I sha'n't have any, Harvey. My +father can't give me any. I've just found that out. He +can't get enough to save himself. I can get enough for +us both if I take Willie.</p> + +<p>"It's horrible talk, Harvey, but it's business. It's for +your sake as much as mine. If I married you I'd drive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +you mad. I'd rather have you hate me lovingly, as you +do now, than have you hate me loathingly, as you would +if I became a millstone round your neck. You'd be faithful +and work hard and try to love me, but I'd be simply +unendurable.</p> + +<p>"My brother—you haven't met him; he's loafing +through college—he knows more about sport than he +does about books. He's always talking about prize-fighters +and class. He's always telling about some poor +fellow getting knocked senseless because he strayed out +of his class. I remember one brilliant welterweight +champion who lasted only one round with a broken-down +heavyweight. My brother said the welterweight got +what was coming to him because he hadn't intelligence +enough to stay where he belonged. I'm trying to do +that. I'm horribly tempted just to fling everything to +the winds and run away with you. I'm starving for your +love. My heart says, 'Put love before everything else—'"</p> + +<p>"Obey your heart!" Forbes broke in, at last. She +shook her head.</p> + +<p>"But my brain says, 'Think of the long, long future!' +A woman spends so little of her married life with her husband. +It's the long days that count, the days she spends +with other women, with rivalries, jealousies, with economy, +economy, economy. That's what I'm afraid of. Economy +would play the devil with me, Harvey. Two thousand a +year and forage! I'm afraid of it."</p> + +<p>"So you will marry this rich man. And then?"</p> + +<p>"Then I shall probably learn to hate him."</p> + +<p>"And to love somebody else?"</p> + +<p>"I shall never love anybody but you, Harvey. I've +never told anybody else my real mind as I have you, for +I am trained to conceal—always to conceal."</p> + +<p>"But don't conceal from yourself the failure you are +going to make of your life. No woman can play false to +her heart and prosper. I beg you not to despise my +love."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Despise your love!" she cried. "It's myself I despise. +Ah, Harvey, try to understand me."</p> + +<p>"I can't! I can only warn you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't warn me! Don't lecture me! Just love +me! Let's not think of the future—it's always full of +tragedy. If we married in all our love, we should meet +so much unhappiness! The most loving love matches +I've known have burned out—ended in divorces and open +scandal, or scandal concealed like ostriches for everybody +to see and laugh at. Two people fall in love and meet +opposition and run away together to a preacher. Then +they have nobody to oppose them, so they oppose each +other. And by and by they run away from each other +and don't meet till they get to a divorce court in some +small town to avoid the notoriety."</p> + +<p>"And you think that you will escape that by marrying +without love?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Because I don't expect love. I sha'n't expect +Willie to be a romantic saint, and then hate him for not +living up to my specifications."</p> + +<p>"But yourself—your body—you will give that to him?"</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes and turned ghastly white as she +whispered: "I suppose so. That's the usual price a +woman pays, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He flung her from him as something unclean, common, +cheap.</p> + +<p>From the huddle she was in she whispered:</p> + +<p>"I understand. I—I don't blame you."</p> + +<p>There was a sort of burlesque saintliness about her +meekness that nauseated him. He did not realize that +she forgave him because his rage seemed a proof of his +love. She would have forgiven him with bruised lips +if he had struck her in the face.</p> + +<p>He loathed himself for his vicious wrath, but he almost +loathed her more for compelling it. Yet when she +got to her feet and stood clinging to the velvet curtain, +and mumbled:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It was better that this happened before we were married, +wasn't it? And now that you are cured of loving +me I may go, mayn't I?"</p> + +<p>He stared at her; his lips parted to utter words he +could not find; he put out his hands, and she went back +to his arms. And she cried a little, not forgetting even +in her grief to sob stealthily lest some one hear. And he +understood that, too, and hated her for her eternal vigilance. +Even while he kissed the brackish tears from her +cheeks and eyes he hated her for being so beautiful and +so wise, so full of passion and so discreet.</p> + +<p>She wept but a little while, and then she was quiet, +reclining against him in silence and meditating.</p> + +<p>And he pondered the mystery of his own behavior. A +sense of duty and a sense of honor had always guided his +acts hitherto. This woman acted upon him like the drug +that doctors use for controlling violent patients and the +criminal insane; it leaves the senses all alive but annuls +the power of motion.</p> + +<p>Here he was, convinced to the very depths of his soul +that it was abominable to embrace the betrothed of another, +yet he did not take his arms from about her, he +did not put her away from him. Instead, he held her fast +even when she made to go. And yet he blamed her.</p> + +<p>This much at least he accomplished in the long silence: +he ceased to blame Persis and accused himself, tried himself +before the tribunal of his own soul, and denounced +himself as guilty of treason to himself and her and the +laws of the world. But he did not put her from him.</p> + +<p>And now, having condemned himself, he followed the +usual program and forgave himself. He bent down and +kissed her forehead and her hair, and tightened his arms +about her. She did not answer his kiss. Once more he +felt, as in the sunlight by the brook, that he held only the +shell of her, while her soul—that other man's soul of her—was +gone voyaging.</p> + +<p>But now it was in the cold of night, in the dark chill of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +a room long closed up like a grave and her body was the +only warmth in the room, or in the world for him. It +seemed to glow like an ember breathing rosily in ashes.</p> + +<p>And now gradually desire grew imperious, the angry, +sullen desire of Tristan seeing his Isolde given to another +man to wife. He burned with resentment at the ill-treatment +accorded him by the fates, who saved his love +and her love for this mockery, this money-infected, money-paralyzed +romance. His wrath rose in revolt against a +world where such a sarcasm was possible. The laws of +the world became suspect with the mercy of the world. +The pangs of disprized love were so bitter that he began +to claim revenge, revenge especially on her.</p> + +<p>He clenched his arms about her with a new and different +ardor—no longer the sacred fervor of a lover who +protects his affianced from himself, but the outlaw that +raids and desecrates.</p> + +<p>She understood and was afraid and fought against him, +but her mutinous love fought for him. And nature, and +the moonlight, and the scented breeze purring at the window +fought for him. All her beauty clamored to surrender. +She was already lost when some last impulse +of horror cried out against the irreparable profanation. +Even as her arms went round him she murmured:</p> + +<p>"Help me! Harvey, help me!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IN the panic of her soul there was just honor enough +awake to raise that prayer, and in the fury of his there +was just honor enough left to answer it. It was the one +irresistible appeal she could have made—the cry of +"Help!" that never falls in vain on the ears of a man +unless he has become a beast—or a god.</p> + +<p>Mysteriously the almost stifled cry released from the +dungeon of Forbes' soul all the powers of decency; +they took possession of him anew. His senses and his +muscles obeyed, and he was now so pure-hearted a defender +of Persis' integrity that he resisted even the little +moan of almost regret that escaped her tormented soul +when he let her go.</p> + +<p>The aftermath of the ordeal was an ague of reaction. +The blood seemed to flow backward into her heart. She +was overwhelmed with the terror one feels for a disaster +narrowly escaped, and with shame for the realization that +the credit was none of hers.</p> + +<p>Forbes did not take her in his arms, but contented himself +with closing out the breeze that seemed to have turned +colder now, and with wrapping about her quivering +shoulders the heavy velvet of the curtain.</p> + +<p>Whatever other flaws she had, Persis was not marred +by self-conceit. Even her nobler motives she tended to +reinterpret from some cynical point of view. When she +was calmer she spoke with that intelligence of hers that +always chilled Forbes' idealizing heart.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you how grateful I am, Harvey, and how +ashamed. I didn't know I was so—so hopelessly like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +other people. I didn't know I could forget myself so +completely. But I've learned my lesson. I've had my +scare. And I must keep away from the edge of the cliff. +We mustn't meet alone this way any more, Harvey. I +love you too well, and I don't want to go altogether to +the bad, do I? It isn't that I'm good; I'd love to be +good, but I'm afraid I wasn't meant to be. But I must +be sensible. I mustn't be a fool. A woman risks too +much, Harvey. It's too hideously unfair. The consequences +would be nothing at all to you—and might be +utter destruction to me. I told you there were a hundred +Persises in me. And now I've seen one of them face to +face that I never knew was there. I've got to starve her +to death. We mustn't meet alone any more, must we?"</p> + +<p>He could not say anything without saying too much. +So he simply shook his head and pressed her hand, and, +rising, led her from the niche of peril. With his free hand +he found his cigar-lighter and snapped it; but it would +not flame, and they stumbled through an archipelago of +furniture, jostling together, more afraid of contact with +each other than of any other danger.</p> + +<p>They walked into the wall, but, groping, found at last +the door and entered the dining-room again. The moonlight +was gone, and the first tide of daybreak was seeping +through the windows. There was no rose-color in this +dawn. It promised to be a gray day.</p> + +<p>They hurried to the kitchen and came back indeed to +life in its most material surfaces, a chill, drab light beating +upon pots and pans.</p> + +<p>They bade each other good night and good-by there; +but their embrace was appropriately matter-of-fact, +galvanized ware upon cold iron. They tiptoed wearily +up the service stairway and into the main corridor above.</p> + +<p>Here, too, there was daylight like dirty pond water. +Persis went stealthily to the railing of the stairway, and, +glancing down, beckoned to Forbes, who moved to her +side and peered where she pointed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>He saw that Willie Enslee, exhausted by his vigil, had +fallen asleep on a sumptuous divan. The divan would have +honored a palace, and Willie's pajamas were of silk, and his +bathrobe was of brocaded silk. But after all it was Willie +Enslee that was in them. And he slept with his little +eyes clenched and his mouth ajar. And a cold cigarette +was stuck to his lower lip.</p> + +<p>Forbes was impelled to taunt her with a whispered: +"There is your husband. Go to him!"</p> + +<p>But when he looked at her she was so wan and pitiful +that he could not be as pitiless as the wan daylight was. +She was making an advance payment on her price; and +she was shivering and lonely. So he kissed her icy hands +and whispered to her how beautiful she was and a sorrowful +"God bless you!" and sneaked back into his room, +his bachelor room.</p> + +<p>Had he paused as once before to throw her another kiss, +he would have found her with her arms stretched out to +him pleading for rescue from the vision she had seen and +the unspoken taunt she had understood. But he did not +look back, and she dared not knock at his door. The +click of his lock frightened her, and she fled to her room +like a ghost surprised by the morning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WHEN Forbes shut the door upon Persis (and unwittingly +shut out her little gesture of appeal to +come back, be stronger than she was, and rescue her from +herself in spite of herself) he looked from his room upon +a world that was just the colorless color of the glass in +his window.</p> + +<p>There was a menace of rain in the sky, and the dawn +was a colorless affair, neither night nor morning. The +day woke like a sleeper that has not rested well.</p> + +<p>As a mere formality Forbes took off his clothes and lay +down. Life was colorless ahead of him. The woman +who had fascinated him utterly had utterly disappointed +him. She loved Forbes, but not his penury; she would +marry Enslee's money, but not Enslee. She wanted success +in life—called it her "career"!</p> + +<p>Men, he knew, put their careers first, made everything +subservient to success, asked their women to kowtow to +it. Perhaps women were going to do the same thing. +Perhaps they had been all these centuries hunting success +and disguising the materialism of their ambition under +more romantic words, aided in their deceit by the numberless +gallantries of authors. Perhaps Persis was not different +from millions of women, except for being frank where +the others were hypocrites, more or less intentionally.</p> + +<p>This thought softened his heart toward Persis, and he +regretted it. He did not want to think softly of Persis +any more. It unnerved his resolution, and uncertainty +and irresolution were terrific strains on a man of action +and precision. If he could renounce Persis with contempt +he would be able to close that incident and resume<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +the progress of life. But to find in every beauty of hers +something of ugliness, and to find in every cruelty of hers +something to respect and something to pity, was the +paralysis of decision.</p> + +<p>How could he hate her when he loved her so madly, +and was so unhappy out of her sight? How was he to +endure it that she should marry another man, and how +was he to prevent it?</p> + +<p>He tossed between sleeping and waking, between condemnation +of Persis and acquittal, between resolutions to +cut her out of his heart and his life, and resolutions to win +her yet. Eventually he heard people stirring about the +house, and he rose drearily.</p> + +<p>The shower-bath gave forth a lukewarm drizzle that +neither stimulated nor soothed him. Outside, rain was +falling lazily in a gray air that hid the hills and gardens +as if the sky, too, were a curtained shower-bath.</p> + +<p>He began to pack his suit-cases. As he was folding one +of his coats there dropped from its inside pocket a mesh +of beribboned lace. It surprised him by its inappropriateness. +He picked it up, and it was the nightcap that +had fallen from her tousled hair as she looked from the +window into that wonderful dawn of day before yesterday. +What a liar that dawn had been! It was illustrious and +spendthrift of promises. To-day's dawn was the fulfilment. +That was romance, this was truth. The nightcap +itself was but a snare, a broken snare.</p> + +<p>He flung it angrily back to the floor and went on packing +his bachelor things to take back into his bachelor +future. The little cap lay huddled—as she had crouched +when he flung her out of his arms. She had whispered, +"I understand." It seemed also not to reproach him. +But it was very beautiful. He could not leave it there +for some servant to find. Especially not, as she had +prophesied just such a result and he had promised to +keep it secret. He picked it up. It was fragrant and +pink and silken and lacy—as she was.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>He rebuked himself for venting his spite on an inanimate +object, a nightcap of all things! Thence he was led to +reproach himself for condemning Persis. She, too, was +knitted and bow-knotted together with the sole purpose +of being exquisite. As well blame the nightcap for not +being a helmet as blame Persis for not being a heroine.</p> + +<p>He found himself caressing the cap and murmuring to +it. He folded it tenderly and slipped it into the suit-case. +Then he took it out and put it in the inside pocket +of his waistcoat. It seemed to nestle there, and he felt +a lurch in his heart, as if Persis had just crept back into it +and curled up to sleep. He buttoned them in, Persis and +the nightcap, and, closing his suit-cases, carried them down-stairs +as one does in a hotel where there are no bell-boys.</p> + +<p>He found Willie Enslee staring at him, rubbing his eyes. +Willie had wakened only a moment before, had realized +the hour with bewilderment, had tried the front door and +found it still locked. He was just wondering where Forbes +and Mrs. Neff had spent the night when Forbes walked +down the stairs and said "Good morning!" but with a +queer tone and an odd something in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Willie drowsily answered "G'maw!" and stared harder, +for Mrs. Neff came down the steps after Forbes. She +was sneezing so violently that she had to cling to the +banister-rail to keep from sneezing herself into space.</p> + +<p>She did not see Willie; but her appearance and her +sneeze confirmed his theory. He backed out through a +side door and made his way through the kitchen and up +the stairway there to his own room. His mind was still +fumbling with the riddle of how Forbes and Mrs. Neff +got in.</p> + +<p>He wondered what he should tell Persis when she asked +him what had happened during his night-watch. He had +promised her great things from his practical joke. But +she never asked him, and he was so greatly relieved that +he never broached the subject himself.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was served more slipshoddily than before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +Even the novelty of the experience had gone. Henceforward +Winifred was converted to the vital importance +of servants.</p> + +<p>Persis was the last to appear. Mrs. Neff greeted her +with:</p> + +<p>"Persis, your eyes are all red. Have you been cry-cr-cry-ing-g-gk!" +She finished with an almost decapitating +sneeze. It gave Persis a hint.</p> + +<p>"I caught cold, too," she said. "The change in the +weather."</p> + +<p>The explanation sufficed to satisfy Mrs. Neff and to +convince Forbes that Persis was dangerously apt at concealments.</p> + +<p>When the breakfast was eaten the dishes were washed +and dried at Winifred's direction. But when it came to +what Forbes called "policing the camp," it was unanimously +voted to leave that to the gardener and his wife, +or to the caretaker on his return.</p> + +<p>The three automobiles rolled up through the rain, all +shipshape for the storm, with tops hooded and side-curtains +buttoned down snugly.</p> + +<p>Forbes remembered that other rain with Persis in the +taxicab. How much better the opportunity here, with +the world shut out from view and two hours' cruise ahead. +But he was again consigned to Mrs. Neff's car, and it was +Willie Enslee who had Persis and the opportunity. Forbes +could not follow even the flutter of her veil. All he could +see ahead was the shoulder of Mrs. Neff's chauffeur and +the windshield studded and streaked with rain.</p> + +<p>There was no landscape to divert the mind, only his +imagination of the courtship Willie would be paying to +his newly announced fiancee. Forbes pictured the privileges +he would exact, and Persis would not deny. And +he gnashed his teeth in wrath. In the cave of Mrs. Neff's +car Alice had nothing to say. She was thinking too eagerly +ahead. Mrs. Neff had nothing to say. She was wondering +what Alice was so cheerful about.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so the car pushed south, with no passing scenery +to indicate progress, only the bumps and teeterings, the +swerves and slitherings, and the nauseating belches of +noise made by the horn. Eventually the wheels ceased +to run upon irregular ground and glided on asphalt. This +must be New York.</p> + +<p>At Seventy-second Street they turned off Broadway and +crossed Central Park. At the eastern gate Mrs. Neff's +chauffeur checked his car alongside a whale-like mass, +from which Willie Enslee's voice was heard shrilly calling +through the rain:</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Mrs. Neff! Good-by Alice! Good-by Mr. +Wa—er—Forbes. Awfully glad you could come. See you +again. Go on to Miss Cabot's house." This last to his +own driver.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff and Alice cried in unison: "Good-by! Had +lovely time! See you soon!"</p> + +<p>And out of space came the disembodied voice of Persis +as from a grave: "Good-by, Mrs. Neff! By-by, Alice! +Good-by, Mr. Forbes!"</p> + +<p>"Good-by, P—Miss Cabot!" he called. Her voice +trailed away as if it were her soul going to death, and his +voice followed with an ache of despair in it. Mrs. Neff +caught the pathos hovering over the cries like overtones +sounding above and beyond a tone of music. She said:</p> + +<p>"Too bad you let Willie take her away from you; it's +not too late yet if you've any ambition."</p> + +<p>Forbes smiled dully, and Alice said:</p> + +<p>"Mother, you do say the most tactless things!"</p> + +<p>"I had set my heart on that love-match," sighed Mrs. +Neff.</p> + +<p>"Better begin at home," said Alice, with unusual cheer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff changed the subject. "We'll get out at our +house, if you don't mind, and the man can take you to +your hotel."</p> + +<p>"That's mighty kind of you," said Forbes. He helped +them to alight, promised to call, and re-entered the car.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> + +<p>On his way to the hotel he pondered what Mrs. Neff had +said. It cheered him until he realized she was still assuming +that he had a respectable income. If she had +known the truth she would have thought him as unfit +for Persis as she thought Stowe Webb unfit for Alice. She +would have approved Persis' theory that such a wedding +was impossible.</p> + +<p>It is doleful travel that takes one home from an unaccomplished +errand—only Forbes was not returning even +to his home. His home was as shifty as a Methodist +minister's. At present it was a hotel, and after that the +army post.</p> + +<p>And now those duties which he had dreaded so to resume +became in his mind a refuge. He had spent a few +wild days pursuing a will-o'-the-wisp of a woman's whim +through a moonlit marsh, never sure which turn it would +take, sure only that it would not be where he expected +it to be.</p> + +<p>After such a maddening recreation there was a kind of +heaven in the thought of living according to a rigid program. +At such an hour a bugle would exclaim and drums +would ruffle, and the day's work would begin. At such +an hour a roll-call would be due, or a sick-call, or a guard-mount +call, or a headquarters call. Certain books were +to be inspected and corrected; certain men were to be +taught to do certain things exactly so. If there were ever +a doubt, the answer was printed in a book, or in an order +numbered and dated.</p> + +<p>Everything was gloriously impersonal and objective, +accurate and material.</p> + +<p>Forbes understood the spirit of old convicts who, after +cursing their penitentiaries for years, are let out into the +world's turmoil, and by and by return, pleading to be let +in again.</p> + +<p>Only yesterday he had been trying to concoct schemes +for postponing the date of his return to duty; now he was +resolved to anticipate it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<p>He paid his bill at the hotel—with further erosion of +the bank-account—and took the Subway and the ferry to +Governor's Island.</p> + +<p>The first sentinel he encountered recognized him for an +officer by his shoulders and his carriage; and, halting on +his post at just the right distance, faced outward and presented +arms with decorative rigidity. As Forbes' hand +went to the brim of his derby hat it felt a vizor there, and +his heart went up in thanks. And his eyes went to the +colors!—the little piece of wrinkling sky in the corner and +the red stripes swimming in luxurious curves.</p> + +<p>Next Forbes noted a doting smile half hidden by a +saluting hand. It was a sergeant who had served with +him in the Philippines; the very man Forbes had been +shouting to when the bullet passed through his cheek; +the very sergeant who had carried him half a mile to a +field hospital in a rain of sun that beat upon the head like +a thug's sandbag. That was man's work. Forbes returned +the salute and shook the hand of the sergeant. +As he remembered, he had got the sergeant out of some +woman scrape. Why should good soldiers always be so +easily defeated by women?</p> + +<p>And next he met two officers he had known in West +Point and in Cuba and at Manila. The small army of +the United States seemed hardly more than a large club.</p> + +<p>One of these officers, Major Chatham, dragged Forbes +to his home for dinner—as pretty a home as a man could +wish, with as pretty a wife and two children. And they +had a maid to wait on them—and they kept a little automobile, +too, the major being his own chauffeur. They +seemed happy. Perhaps it was only manners, but the +wife seemed as happy as a lark—or, rather, a canary. +And yet Forbes could see how she differed from Persis. +And he was glad that he had not brought a sea-gull down +there for a mate.</p> + +<p>He left, after his first cigar, on a pretext of unpacking. +In the late twilight the sea-gulls that swung and tilted and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +dipped about the bay like little air-yachts did not seem so +desirable, after all. He declared himself emancipated and +contented. He thrust his head high and bulged his chest +and walked soldierly.</p> + +<p>And so he prospered till he was alone in his quarters, +and the dark closed in and he turned on the light, and set +about the establishment of his effects with all the fanatic +neatness and order a West Point training could give a man.</p> + +<p>He put his coats and overcoats on the hangers, and the +trousers in their holders, flat and creased, and set his +shoes out in rows, and the boxes of belts and spurs, and +the sword-cases, and the various hat-boxes. He took off +his civilian coat and waistcoat—and found in the inside +pocket that perfumed nightcap.</p> + +<p>And then he wanted Persis! He thirsted and hungered +for her. He fevered for her. He called himself names, +reasoned, laughed, cursed, tried to read, to write; but +"Persis! Persis! Persis!" ran among his thoughts like +a tune that can neither be seized nor forgotten. He put +out the light, flung up the curtain and the window, and +a soft breeze moving from the ocean up the bay seemed to +pause like a serenader and croon her name. The torch +of the Statue of Liberty glowed like a chained star, and it +seemed to be that planet which was Persis and which he +could not reach.</p> + +<p>Only last night she was in his arms, in his power, and +so afraid of him that she cried to him for help from her +love; and he had given her up—given her back to herself!</p> + +<p>He had kept her pure that Enslee might take her intact! +His nobility seemed very cheap to him now. He +repented his virtue. If he had taken her then he could +have kept her for his own. Now that she had escaped +she would never risk the danger again. She had told +him so. And she could be very wise, very cold, very +resolute.</p> + +<p>That night was a condensed eternity. The next morning's +duties were performed in a kind of somnambulism.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> + +<p>The second day brought his commission as captain. +He glanced over it listlessly and tossed it aside.</p> + +<p>For years he had fretted for this document, focused +his ambitions on it, upbraided a tardy government for +withholding it so long. And now that it was here he +sneered at the accolade of it. The increase of pay was a +mere sarcasm; it brought him no nearer his planet than +going to the roof and standing on tiptoe would have done. +The commandant congratulated him. His fellow-officers +wrung his hand. He was no longer to be called "Mr. +Forbes," but "Captain Forbes." He had a title. But +what was the good of it? It did not even make him a +rival of Enslee, whose only title was "Little Willie."</p> + +<p>Now and then the profundity of his gloom was quickened +with resolutions to seek Persis, to storm her home and +carry her off. Perhaps that was what she was waiting +for. He had often read that women love to be overmastered. +Then his pride would revolt. It was not his +way of courtship.</p> + +<p>But at least he would telephone her. Then he remembered +the fruitless effort he had made to discover her +number—that mystical "private wire." Ten Eyck would +know it. He would call up Ten Eyck. With the receiver +off the hook and Central asking, "Number, please?" he +grew afraid and answered, "Never mind." He dared not +invite another of Ten Eyck's fatherly lectures.</p> + +<p>Besides, if Persis cared enough for him to grant him +an interview she would seek it herself. But perhaps she +had called up the hotel and found him gone. Perhaps she +was afraid to call up the post and have him summoned. +Women do not like to call up men's organizations; it is +like visiting them.</p> + +<p>No! she had undoubtedly crossed him off her books, +as he ought to cross her off his. He ought to write the +word "Dropped" under her name, as under that of a +soldier who was out of the service.</p> + +<p>And so he tossed hope and despair like a mad juggler<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +who cannot rest. On the third day, when he came from +the parade-ground, he was informed that he had been +wanted on the telephone. He was to call up such a number. +"Yes, sir, it was a lady's voice, sir."</p> + +<p>It must be Persis. No, it might be an operator in a +hotel. It might be her maid. It might be anybody. It +proved to be the telephone-girl in the office of Senator +Tait.</p> + +<p>In a moment, by the occult influence of the telephone, +the unknown woman vanished and Senator Tait's soul was +in communication with his. The genial heart seemed to +quiver in the air.</p> + +<p>"That you, Harvey?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Hello, Senator."</p> + +<p>"You sound mighty doleful, my boy. Anything the +matter?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you're not dead? You disappeared so +completely I thought you might be. You sound as if +you wished you were."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"Can't you come up to the house for dinner to-night?"</p> + +<p>He realized that this would mean meeting Mildred—and +dressing in his evening things. He did not want to +put on his evening things. They had danced with Persis +last. He did not want to meet any woman. He was in +mourning. All this flashed through his mind while he was +inventing an excuse of official duty.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow night, then?"</p> + +<p>"Terribly sorry. I can't get off."</p> + +<p>"How about lunch? At the club—to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I'd like that."</p> + +<p>"I have something to discuss with you."</p> + +<p>"I'll be there! At one?"</p> + +<p>"Fine! One o'clock. Metropolitan Club. Do you +know where it is?"</p> + +<p>"I'll find it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good! Perhaps Mildred can be there."</p> + +<p>"Fine!" His voice wavered. He was trapped. He +had not guessed that the club would have an annex. The +Senator felt the constraint across the wire. It hurt him, +but he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up! Maybe she can't come!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I—I hope she can. She's—I'd love to see her, I +assure you."</p> + +<p>"All right. Don't worry. Good-by."</p> + +<p>The Senator was laughing, but there was a wounded +pride in his voice. Forbes hung up the telephone, feeling +a cad and an ingrate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE next forenoon, having obtained the privilege of +absence, Forbes crossed from Governor's Island to +Manhattan Island, took the Subway from South Ferry to +Fifty-ninth Street, and, entering Central Park, kept along +its southernmost path till he reached the Plaza, where he +paused a moment to admire Saint-Gaudens' statue of +General Sherman, a gilded warrior on a gilded horse +squired by a gilded girl—Victory or Peace or something, +he was not sure just what.</p> + +<p>In his present humor of misogyny he wondered why it +was thought to be necessary to put a woman in everything. +Of all the campaigns where she was lacking, surely the +March to the Sea was among her most conspicuous absences. +But he admired the lean warrior with the doffed +hat and the splendid stride of the big horse—a very different +horse from the Park horses he found, with their tan-clad +grooms clustered at the mounting-blocks near by.</p> + +<p>Toward this starting-point fat women with looped-up +skirts and top-hats and little knock-kneed girls in breeches +were hurrying. He smiled with the superiority of a cavalry +officer.</p> + +<p>Among the living caricatures were a few expert riders. +Suddenly Forbes' heart shivered and raced with a feeling +that a certain one of them might be Persis. Surely there +could not be another back so trim, another grip so firm. +But it was his longing that created the resemblance, for +as the horse whirled and loped away he caught sight of +the woman's profile. It was less like Persis' profile than +like the horse's!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the moment's agitation had gone like an earthquake +through his calmed soul. It shook down the +towers of resolution and independence and sickened him +with the instability of his poise.</p> + +<p>He would have turned back from his engagement, but +he had not even the strength for that much action. He +crossed the Avenue to where the Metropolitan Club stood +four square in its gray and white dignity. As he passed +through the carved and colonnaded entrance-court a +motor-car deposited two women at the door of the annex.</p> + +<p>He feared that one of them might be Mildred; but he +was unnecessarily alarmed. Mildred had pleaded official +duties. She had shown the same reluctance Forbes had +revealed. Perhaps she saw through her father's motives. +But the old Senator was willing to wait. He was a born +compromiser, a genius at making fusions out of factions.</p> + +<p>When Forbes entered the club and asked for Tait, the +doorman consulted the roster-board, and, finding a cribbage +peg opposite the Senator's name, sent a page for +him. He was not far to fetch, and he was in a humor of +Falstaffian heartiness. He came upon Forbes' foggy +mood like a morning sun. He was just what Forbes +needed.</p> + +<p>He clapped his arm across Forbes' shoulder, and, as he +registered him in the guest-book, wrote the new word +"Captain" large, and pointed to it; then dragged Forbes +to the cigar-case and commanded "the biggest cigar there +is, one with a solid-gold wrapper." He treated the forlorn +victim of a woman's jilt as a notable worthy of notable +entertainment. It was the lift that the prodigal son got +when he slunk home and was met with a bouquet instead +of blame.</p> + +<p>He led Forbes into the great central hall, with its white-marble +cliffs and its red-velveted double stairway mounting +like a huge St. Andrew's cross, placed him on a settle +where a platoon of men might have sat a-knee, and gave +the bell a royal bang. He recommended a special cock<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>tail, +and joined Forbes in it in joyous disobedience of his +physician's warning.</p> + +<p>When the cocktail arrived Forbes gave him the army +toast of "How!" and Tait answered "Happy days!" +On the way up to the dining-room he led Forbes through +the building, pausing before the crimson opulence of the +two reading-rooms; the lounging-room, with its windows +commanding Fifth Avenue; the card-rooms, deserted +battle-fields now; the board-rooms, where committees +gathered to settle huge financial destinies, the solemn +library walled solid with books.</p> + +<p>Forbes wondered at the almost complete absence of +other people in the club; but Tait explained that most of +the members were hard-working millionaires who lunched +down-town "or took their dinner-pails with them," some +of them hardly stopping to eat a sandwich from a desk leaf.</p> + +<p>On the top floor their luncheon awaited them at a +table by the window. As Forbes drew his napkin across +his knee he gazed down at the corner of the Park and the +lake where white swans drifted like the toy sloops of children. +From this height the hills and curving walks looked +miniature as a Japanese garden.</p> + +<p>When the clam-shells were emptied they were replaced +with chicken, a second waiter served rice, and a third +curry. It was strangely comforting to be well served with +choice food in a beautiful room above a beautiful scene. +He felt that in places like this wealth justified itself—wealth +the upholsterer, the caterer, the artist, the butler.</p> + +<p>Forbes looked down at a shuffling vagrant slouching +across the Plaza. He felt sorry for that man, and yet was +glad that he was here instead of there. He wished that +he himself might belong to this delightful place they +called the "Millionaire's Club." He longed for riches, +especially as they would mean Persis. He remembered +what she had said: "The rich can get anything that the +poor have, but the poor can't get what the rich have." +The rich Enslee could even get Persis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p> + +<p>He sat musing bitterly, forgetting that he had a host, +and unaware that the host was looking at him with sad +affection, not resenting his listlessness, but hoping to relieve +it. Remembering Forbes' father, Tait knew that he +must move warily about that sensitive Forbes pride, as +swift to strike an awkward hand as a caged tiger that +greets an unwelcome caress with a wound.</p> + +<p>Tait hesitated to open his real business. He began +obliquely.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've just fired the first gun in my war with Mrs. +Neff."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Forbes, drearily.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tait, positively. "Just before you came +young Stowe Webb was here—nice young fellow. I sent +for him, and said to him: 'Young man, Miss Alice Neff, +whom I believe you know'—he blushed like a house +afire—'tells me,' I said, 'that her mother objects to you +because you have no money.' He flashed me a look of +amazement, and I said: 'If you need money, why don't +you make it?' And he said: 'How can I?' 'Why, money +is growing on bushes everywhere,' I said, 'just waiting +to be picked off; poor men are getting rich every day,' I +said; and he said: 'Yes, and rich men are getting poor. +My family is one of the bushes, and we've been pretty +well picked. My father left me nothing but his blessing, +and I can't pawn that,' he said. 'Still, I'm not dead yet,' +he said. 'I'll show you all some day.' And I said: +'There must be something in any man that a good girl +loves and believes in. And any girl that's worth having +is worth working for, and if she really wants you she'll +wait for you.' And then I lowered my voice about an +octave and growled, 'I wonder if you have the grit to +go out in this hard old world and work for that girl and—and +earn her?' He said, 'You bet I have!' So I said: +'Well, I know where there's a job you might get; it's small +salary and a lot of work at first, and by and by a little more +salary and much harder work; and you won't be able to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +see her often; perhaps not at all for a long while; but +eventually, if she'll wait, you'll be able to support her +as well as any girl needs to be supported who has love +in the bargain. Do you want that job, young man?' +I said, glaring at him. And he said: 'Lead me to +it!'"</p> + +<p>Forbes listened with eagerness and envy. The portrait +of Alice, who would wait till her lover worked his way up +to a competence, contrasted sharply with Persis, who would +not accept the competence Forbes already had. He asked, +with an effort at enthusiasm:</p> + +<p>"And what is the job?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to make him my secretary, at twelve hundred +a year, at first. He won't be worth it, and I'll have +to do all my own work for a while; but I'll give him his +chance. I won't pamper him. I'll test him out—and +her, too. If they can't stand the test they wouldn't last +long in the battle of matrimony."</p> + +<p>"Your secretary?" said Forbes. "Does he know any +law?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to be a lawyer. I'm going to be a +diplomat—in Paris."</p> + +<p>"Splendid!" cried Forbes, reaching across to squeeze +his hand. "I congratulate the country—and France. I +envy you Paris. I've never been there."</p> + +<p>"How would you like to go?"</p> + +<p>"How should I like to be a major-general?"</p> + +<p>Tait opened his lips to say something important, then +stammered, and said instead:</p> + +<p>"Waiter, give Captain Forbes some more of that curry. +It's good here, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Splendid," said Forbes, who had hardly touched what +was on his plate.</p> + +<p>Senator Tait shifted uncomfortably, made to speak, +pursed his lips, eyed Forbes, and then said, with abrupt +irrelevance:</p> + +<p>"I was wrong, I see, about old Cabot."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Were you?" Forbes mumbled, with a sudden flush at +the broaching of that dangerous theme.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I said that he was to be closed up, forced into +involuntary bankruptcy, and all that."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't he?" said Forbes, weakly.</p> + +<p>"No, he got money and credit and a new start—from +the Enslee estates. There is a rumor that his daughter +is to marry Willie Enslee. I thought that perhaps you—did +you—did you hear anything of it—from Enslee?"</p> + +<p>Tait made an elaborate pretense of indifference and +showed a violent interest in the leg of a chicken. Forbes +turned curry-color with shame as he answered: "Yes, +Enslee announced the engagement himself—the very day +I saw you last."</p> + +<p>His head drooped as if his neck could no longer hold +it up. Tait noted his harrowed look and broke out +angrily:</p> + +<p>"Don't be cut up, my boy, just because she's fool +enough to marry a bigger fool than herself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please!" Forbes protested. He could have struck +a younger man in Persis' defense, but he could only appeal +to so old a man as Tait. Tait, however, persisted:</p> + +<p>"You ought to be glad to be revenged so neatly."</p> + +<p>Forbes was in desperate case; he laughed bitterly. +"Revenge is a little late. My life is ruined. I might as +well put an end to it."</p> + +<p>The old man stared at the tragic face, the brow corded +with veins, the eyes fanatic with despair. He could not +believe that so brilliant an officer could kill himself. And +yet men did kill themselves—several thousand every year. +When Forbes' father was a young man courting the fickle +young beauty who was later to become the so steadfast +wife and the mother of Forbes, they had quarreled, and +Forbes' father had been frantic with grief, had threatened +self-destruction. Tait himself had taken the revolver +away from him and helped to lift him across the dark +waters of jealousy. It startled him to see the father's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +black despair repeated in the son. He felt that he must +repeat the rescue.</p> + +<p>Yet, as humanity is constituted, tragedy becomes grotesque +when it is repeated. He felt a certain helpless +amusement at finding the son just as desperate as the +father had been. He had laughed the elder Forbes out +of his gloom. He attempted to ridicule the son free of the +same obsession. He spoke in a low tone surcharged with +an anxiety whose exaggeration was too dolorous to catch.</p> + +<p>"You say that you can't stand the loss of Miss Cabot, +and you might as well commit suicide?"</p> + +<p>"I might as well."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Harvey, let's commit suicide together!" +Forbes' haggard glance showed that he was not yet +awake to the old man's parody of his solemnity.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean it?" Forbes asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Tait murmured; "all good Americans go to +Paris when they die—let's go to Paris."</p> + +<p>Now Forbes caught the twinkle in his eye. It took him +off his guard. It was as if some one had made a funny +face at a funeral. A guffaw of laughter escaped him. It +shocked him and shamed him, but it shattered his depression.</p> + +<p>Tait seized the opportunity of Forbes' disorder and +urged his idea:</p> + +<p>"I've got to have a military attaché, you know. I +could get the billet for you."</p> + +<p>"Why select me for the honor? You'll be beset with +applications."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I like you, Harvey. You are your father +come to life again. I love you—as if you were your father—or +my son. I'm old. I need young shoulders to lean +on. I've nobody else but you. And you need me. +You've had a whack in the solar plexus. You're seeing +stars. But you mustn't let 'em count you out. Once +you get your breath you'll be as good a man as you ever +were. But don't lie down and take the count.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Besides, I can help you while you're helping me. It's +a new world for you, Harvey. Nobody ought to die without +seeing France and England—the Old World that's so +much newer than ours and so much wiser in so many ways. +It's your opportunity. It may mean wonderful things +for you. You can't refuse. You won't refuse, will you?"</p> + +<p>The very impact of his blows pounded Harvey's cold +heart to a glow. The word "opportunity" glinted like +a shower of sparks in the night. He smiled in spite of +himself. He felt such a leap of new blood in his arteries, +such a rush of fresh air into his lungs, that he seemed to +waken from a coma. He could not speak, but he thrust +his hand across the table and wrung the Senator's fat old +fingers till they ached.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WILLIE ENSLEE was as little masculine as a man +could be without being in the least effeminate. Ten +Eyck, whose French was more fluent than exact, called +him "<i>petite</i>." His head was small and childish, and the +more infantile for a great rearward overhang that would +have looked better on a yacht. His voice was high and +trebling in its sound. His costumes were always of next +season or the season after next. Yet, carefully as he +dressed, his clothes never dignified him nor he them. +Rich as he was, he attracted few parasites.</p> + +<p>Now, no one realized Willie Enslee's defects half so +thoroughly as did Willie Enslee. But his failings did not +amuse him as they did other people; he could not laugh +with the world at himself. He knew the world laughed +at him, and not without cause, and yet he hated the world +for its laughter. He hated everybody he knew almost +as much as he hated himself. To this misanthropy there +was one exception—Persis. He hated her, too, in a way, +for she never concealed her scorn of him, and she ridiculed +his foibles before his face; but he found her so beautiful +that he loved her while he loathed her, desired while he +abhorred.</p> + +<p>He found her cold and flippant to his most earnest +moods, but he assumed that she was cold and flippant to +everybody else. She certainly had that reputation, and +he comforted himself with the feeling that, while she may +have failed in response to his ardors, it was not because +she was in love with anybody else.</p> + +<p>So little jealousy he had—or, rather, so slow a jealousy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>—that +the silly theory of Forbes' flirtation with Mrs. Neff +sufficed to prevent him from paying the slightest attention +to Forbes' conversation with Persis. Lack of jealousy +is sometimes a form of conceit. Perhaps it was this feeling +that no woman could prefer any other man to an Enslee +that led him to ignore the ordinary caution of a lover. +Perhaps it was just his idolatry of Persis, his inability to +believe her capable of the infamy of duplicity.</p> + +<p>But somewhere in his soul there must have been a +latent spark of suspicion which might some day burst into +a consuming flame, for into his dreams came now and +then little glints of uneasiness. He dismissed them as the +results of indigestion, but they persisted.</p> + +<p>One day, shortly after his return from his Westchester +estate, he sat down in the living-room of his town house +to read the evening papers. All of them published the +announcement of his engagement to Persis, under the +general heading of "June brides." There were portraits +of Persis in various poses and costumes. Willie saw no +picture of himself, and the allusions to him were mainly +concerned with "William Enslee, Esq., son of the famous +William Enslee."</p> + +<p>Willie took so much pride in the fame of his betrothed +that he was not jealous even of her monopoly of the newspaper +attention. He felt only a great pride in being the +future owner of all that beauty.</p> + +<p>He lolled on the divan and smoked the cigarettes of +prosperity. The divan was so comfortable, and his satisfaction +so soothing, that he grew drowsy. His jaw fell +open as his eyes fell shut. The newspapers dropped to the +floor, and he was asleep.</p> + +<p>Into the room, which was now almost ready for the +closing of the house and the emigration to Newport or +the country, came his mother, a young matron whose +aristocratic face and figure were markedly Spanish. Her +black hair was fogged with gray at the temples, as if +with a careless powder-puff. She pushed back the cover<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>ing +of the mirror over the mantel that she might catch a +glimpse of her hair.</p> + +<p>She brightened at the vision she saw within, and not +without reason, for she had broken many hearts in Cuba +and in New York before the elder William Enslee won +her and married her. The only result of the union had +been that at his death he left a widow who was more attractive +than a widow has a right to be, and a son who +was less attractive even than is expected of a millionaire's +son.</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Enslee stared at her image in the looking-glass +Willie's heavy breathing caught her ear, and she heard +that he was asleep even before she saw him. And then +she spoke sharply:</p> + +<p>"But you mustn't sleep here. Go to your own room—or +the club."</p> + +<p>"Let me alone," Willie protested, with querulous anger, +still befuddled, and relapsing at once into sleep.</p> + +<p>"When I was young parents weren't spoken to like +that," said Mrs. Enslee, forgetting how she used to speak +to her parents. She paused to muse upon her man-child. +She felt sorry for him, but sorrier for herself for having +him. As she watched him he began to mumble a gibberish. +She bent closer to hear. Then his hand, hanging +limply near the floor, began to clench and twitch.</p> + +<p>Suddenly from his lips broke a half-strangled gurgle, +then a wild shriek of "Persis! Persis!"</p> + +<p>His own outcry seemed to waken him. His eyes flew +open, and he stared about him as if searching for some one +whose absence bewildered him.</p> + +<p>His mother peered into his eyes, and he clutched her +by the arms, staring at her. Then he mumbled:</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you," and smiled foolishly, and laughed as +with a great relief.</p> + +<p>"What is it, my boy?" said Mrs. Enslee.</p> + +<p>"I must have dropped off to sleep. It was only a +dream."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What was it?" Mrs. Enslee repeated; but he spoke +with a sickly cheer:</p> + +<p>"That's the one consolation about nightmares, when +you wake up—thank God, they're not true!"</p> + +<p>"But what did you dream?" Mrs. Enslee demanded +till he explained:</p> + +<p>"Well, it seemed to be my—er—wedding-day. And I +was standing there by Persis—I was—er—fumbling in +my pocket for the—er—ring, and feeling like a fool—because +she's so much taller than I am—and the preacher +said, 'If anybody knows any—er—reason why these two +should not be—er—wed, let him speak now, or forever—'"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said his audience of one.</p> + +<p>"There was—er—silence for a minute. Then a man +stood up in the church—I couldn't see his face—but he +was tall, and he called out—er, 'I forbid the banns! She +loves me. She is only marrying that man for his—er—money!' +I turned to Persis and said: 'Is that true?' +And she said: 'I don't know the man. I never saw +him.' And then, when she said that, he gave her +one look and—er—walked out of the church. And the—er—ceremony +went on. But Persis shivered all the +time—er—just shivered, and when I kissed her her lips +were like—er—like ice. Then the music began, and we +marched down the aisle—and then—then we—er—er—no, +I won't tell you."</p> + +<p>"Go on—please go on!" the mother pleaded; but Willie +grew embarrassed, and his eyes wandered as he stammered:</p> + +<p>"Well—at last—we were in our room—and I—er—she +shrank away from me as if I were—er—a toad. And +she swore she hated me—and loved the—er—other man. +Then I saw everything red—I hated her. I wanted to +throttle her—to tear her to pieces. But she ran to the +window and fell, all—er—tangled up in the veil and the +long train. I tried to save her—but I couldn't. And +then—when it was too late—my love for her came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +back, and I cried, 'Persis! Persis!' and—er—woke up. +Mother, do you believe in—er—dreams?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, of course not," said Mrs. Enslee, without conviction. +"Or else they go by contraries."</p> + +<p>"Ugh! How real they are while they last. I can't +get over it."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course, I'm not superstitious," Mrs. Enslee +insinuated; "but, if you are, perhaps—I just say perhaps—it +might be a sort of omen that you'd better not marry +Persis, after all."</p> + +<p>"Not marry Persis!" Willie gasped.</p> + +<p>"There are other women on earth," Mrs. Enslee suggested.</p> + +<p>"Not for me!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Enslee pondered a moment before she took up +the debate again. "But do you think she loves you as +much as you'd like to be loved?"</p> + +<p>Willie laughed. "Huh! nobody ever loved me like +that; nobody ever will."</p> + +<p>"Except your mother," said Mrs. Enslee, laying her +hand on his hair. Willie hated to have his hair smoothed, +and he edged away, laughingly bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid even you've found me—er—unattractive, +mother. I couldn't have been much to be proud of even +as a little brat. I never had a chum as a boy. I never +had a girl—er—sweetheart. It wasn't that I didn't like +other people, but other people can't seem to—er—like +me."</p> + +<p>He pondered the mystery so tragically that Mrs. Enslee +caressed him, and said: "You mustn't say that. I +adore you."</p> + +<p>Willie eyed her with a cynical stare. "Don't be—er—literary, +mother. I remember when I was a little boy +how lonely I used to get in this big old house. Poor father +was so busy heaping up money I hardly knew him by +sight. Once he—er—passed me on the street and didn't +speak to me! Then at night you used to give big dinners.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +I had to eat early and alone up in the—er—nursery. But +I used to lie awake for hours, and when the doors opened +I could hear laughter. And often there was music. You +used to go down to dinner after I had gone to bed."</p> + +<p>"But I always stopped in to kiss you good night, didn't +I?" the mother urged, in self-defense.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes you would forget," Willie sighed. "Then +I'd be left there alone with the governess. I didn't want +to—er—speak French to a governess. I wanted to—er—talk +to my mother. And when you did stop in to kiss +me, your lips sometimes used to—er—leave red marks +on my cheek."</p> + +<p>"Willie!" Mrs. Enslee gasped; but he went on:</p> + +<p>"I couldn't put my arms around your neck for fear +I'd—er—disarrange your hair, and even that was—er—dyed!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Enslee turned on him in rage. "Willie! How +dare you?"</p> + +<p>He rounded on her fiercely. "You know it was! You +know it was!"</p> + +<p>"You little beast!" Mrs. Enslee cried; but Willie +laughed maliciously.</p> + +<p>"See! See! Now you're showing your—er—real feelings +to me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Enslee controlled her pain and her wrath, and implored: +"Come, my boy, let's be friends."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, mother," said Willie. "Friends +is the word. It's too late for anything else."</p> + +<p>"You're in one of your nasty moods, Willie," said Mrs. +Enslee, retreating from this hateful situation. "But we +were talking of Persis. You must decide about her."</p> + +<p>"I have decided."</p> + +<p>"You won't marry her, then?"</p> + +<p>"Not marry her?" Willie repeated, like a sarcastic +echo. "Of course I will. And why not?"</p> + +<p>Motives are hard tangles to unravel, especially a +mother's toward other women. Perhaps Mrs. Enslee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +was really afraid of Persis. Perhaps she wanted to assure +herself of the future ability to say, "I warned you." Perhaps +it was just motherly jealousy of the new proprietress +of Willie's time and attention. In answer to Willie's +"Why not?" she insinuated: "People might say she is +marrying you for your money."</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it? What if she is?" Willie stormed. +"What else is there to marry me for? My—er—beauty? +What does it matter, so I get her? Why do dukes marry—er—chorus-girls—when +they can afford 'em? Because +they want 'em! That's why, isn't it? What fools they'd +be not to take 'em if they want 'em and can get 'em?"</p> + +<p>His mother shrugged his troubles from her shoulders +and left him to ferment in his own vinegar. But Willie +was not happy. He was getting what he asked for, and +it was not what he wanted. Perhaps he had never been +truly happy in his whole existence. He had been amused +at times, but usually then with a cynical delight in somebody's +misfortunes or mistakes.</p> + +<p>How could he have been thoroughly happy when he +had never been truly well? What health he had was a +negation, a convalescence; it was at best a not being sick. +He was of a fabric that broke down and wore through +constantly. He could understand the definition of happiness +as "having a splinter in your finger and getting it +out."</p> + +<p>But the joy that comes from bounding arteries, glowing +skin, a galloping heart, a volcanic desire to laugh because +the soul is bursting with laughter, or to sing for mere +song's sake, or to be an instrument in the symphonic +universe when it is playing one of its mighty ensembles—that +cosmic happiness was unknown to Willie Enslee.</p> + +<p>When he found a rapture he always found something +the matter with it; there was a worm in the apple, a slug +in the salad, a fly in the ointment, a flaw in the diamond. +And so it was with his one big ambition—Persis. He had +won his choice of all the world's women. And now his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +mother was asking if he thought she loved him, and if +people would not question her motives. She was already +perhapsing and better-notting.</p> + +<p>And he was dreaming dreams that somebody else had a +priority in her heart. Of course, dreams were follies. +According to some superstitions, they went by contraries. +But they are as hard to disbelieve as a convincing play. +One may not be sure that Josephine was untrue to Napoleon; +but he knows that Mrs. Tanqueray II. had a +most inconvenient lover, and that her past spoiled her +husband's daughter's future.</p> + +<p>So Willie, emerging from the playhouse of his nightmare, +wondered who it was that was likely to interrupt +his wedding with Persis. He suspected everybody except +Forbes. Him he canceled at once from the list, because +Forbes had met Persis only a week ago, and had never +seen her alone, and had, furthermore, devoted himself +to Mrs. Neff. He set Forbes down as a fortune-hunter +willing to marry a much older woman of moderate means. +He doubted if he were important enough for an invitation +to the wedding.</p> + +<p>He could not decide upon any other man to fit the faceless +vision of his nightmare, that shadowy being who +stood up in the dream-cathedral and claimed Persis for +his own. He was tempted to ask Persis. But he was +not tempted long. Naturally she would deny it; but +what if she should confess? Then he would have to +give her up. And he wanted her more than anything +else on earth.</p> + +<p>He resolved that the one safe step was to get Persis +safely married at once and take her away from all of her +acquaintances. Aboard his yacht would be one secure +asylum. When they tired of that they could travel +Europe, and the moment any old friend appeared he +could decamp with her overnight.</p> + +<p>He chuckled triumphantly over this plot, and set about +its perfection. He rejoiced to be in a position to compel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +Persis by way of her father's necessities. The support he +had advanced to the "old flub" he could threaten to withdraw +unless the wedding were hastened. That would +clinch it.</p> + +<p>And then he glowed with the imagined scenes of the +honeymoon. Persis might not love him as he wished, +but he would have her for his own. He would have as +much of her as any man could be sure of in possessing a +woman. He knew he was not handsome, but he knew +handsome men whose homely wives were notoriously +false to them. Did he not know of wild romances that +had ended in mutual contempt? Did he not know of +unpromising beginnings that had ended in happiness? +Monogamy was a gamble at best. And at worst he should +have Persis for his own for a while.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WHEN Willie's mother left him in the aftermath of +his nightmare she went to pay her duty call on +Persis, to welcome her formally into the family and proffer +her the use of the family name.</p> + +<p>There was the most gleaming cordiality on the surface +of their meeting, but the depths of both streams were a +trifle murky. Willie's mother understood now why her +own husband's fierce old mother, known as "Medusa" +Enslee, had received her with such constraint on a similar +occasion. That mother had had to give up part of her +name, too, and step back from being queen to being queen-mother, +with endless confusion in the newspapers, the +invitations, the correspondence, and the gossip.</p> + +<p>The present Mrs. Enslee felt now a sympathy for the +old woman she had hated. But it crowded out the sympathy +she should have felt for Persis, who was suffering +what she had suffered as a young-woman-afraid-of-her-mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>It was bitter for Willie's mother, still beautiful, feeling +herself as young as ever, to realize that henceforth she +must be the "the elder," or, worse yet, the "old Mrs. Enslee." +Perhaps in a year or two a grandmother! It +would be just like Persis to hasten that ghastly day.</p> + +<p>At present Persis was not thinking of motherhood. She +would have called it quite a ghastly day herself—one to be +postponed by every ingenuity and subtlety known to +American womanhood. She was thinking of her new name.</p> + +<p>"You'll be Mrs. Enslee, and I suppose I'll be Mrs. +William Enslee, or Mrs. Little Willie, sha'n't I, mama?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +Do you want me to call you mama, or shall I stick to +Mrs. Enslee?"</p> + +<p>"As you like, my dear," said Mrs. Enslee, with a little +shudder at being "mama" to a strange woman and a +rival. Persis rattled on in ill-managed embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"It will be pretty mixy with two Mrs. William Enslees, +won't it? Like two in a single bed—pardon me! I'll +have to be awfully good or awfully careful, sha'n't I, +for fear my letters may fall into your hands? But I'll +promise not to give away what I find in yours if you +won't tell on me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Enslee was rather pleased than offended at this. +At least it credited her with the ability to create scandal.</p> + +<p>She was like Mrs. Neff in hating to get too old to be +suspected.</p> + +<p>She smiled at Persis with Spanish coquetry, and offered +her aid in the appalling details of announcing the engagement. +It was the new mode to use the telephone for the +more intimate friends. For others there were letters, +calls, advertisements, luncheons, and dinners in all the +exquisite degrees of familiarity.</p> + +<p>She and Persis were going into business for a while on +a large scale—a business for which Persis was peculiarly +fitted and in which she developed an extraordinary +energy.</p> + +<p>When Persis had returned to New York from the Enslee +country place to find her father helpless and dejected, +the offer of Willie's aid had acted like a magic +elixir. It had meant the payment of old bills, or their +enlargement, and the opening of new credits. Dealers +whom the mercantile agencies had secretly filled with +alarm for the Cabot accounts had been subtly reassured.</p> + +<p>In place of letters of pathetic appeal for a little something +to meet a pay-roll there came letters announcing +private views of new importations. Persis' own father +called her his loan-broker, and said that she had earned +the usual commission; he ordered her to buy new things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +He complained of the shabbiness of her hats. Why +hadn't she bought the lot she had spoken to him about +some time ago? She did at once—and more.</p> + +<p>Persis was like a child waking from a bad dream to +find that it is Christmas morning and that its stockings +are cornucopias spilling over with glittering toys.</p> + +<p>And what woman lives that does not find more rapture +in shopping with a full purse or an elastic charge-account +than in any other earthly or spiritual pleasure?</p> + +<p>The barbaric love of beads and red feathers and mirrors +has never been civilized out of the sex. The male succeeds +in love and elsewhere by what he thinks and makes +and gives; the female by what she looks and wears and +extracts. The shops are her art-museums, her gymnasiums, +her paradises, and the privilege of reveling +among them is more voluptuous than any other of her +sensualities. Shopping takes the place of exploration. +That is her Wanderlust.</p> + +<p>And so when Willie Enslee arrived at the Cabot house +with all his weapons ready to force Persis to an early +marriage, he was astounded—he was even dismayed—to +find that she offered no resistance, but greeted his proposal +with delight. It was like making ready to besiege +and storm a castle and being met half-way there by flower-girls +instead of troops. Persis was so instant with acceptance +that he took credit to himself. He cherished +a pitiful delusion that she wanted to marry him—was +actually in a hurry to marry him!</p> + +<p>But it was because she had seen in the shops the new +things for this year's brides. They were absolutely ravishing! +Whatever they are in reality or in retrospect, +fashions are always ravishing as they dawn on the horizon. +Such beauties brighten as they make their entrance and +wither as they take their flight.</p> + +<p>To prepare herself for a wedding did not mean—to +Persis, at least, whatever it may mean to other women—that +she must prepare her soul for a mystic union with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +stranger soul. It meant that she must prepare her wardrobe +for the inspection of all sorts of critics, from the +most casual to the most intimate. It meant not only +buying a veil and some orange blossoms and a meekly +glorious white dress, but it meant outfitting a private department +store. It meant preparing for travel and a prolonged +campaign known as a honeymoon, rather than entering +shyly into obscurity and domestic bliss. It meant +not half so much what the groom should think and see +as what to show and what to whisper to the bridesmaids, +hysterically envious and ecstatically horrified.</p> + +<p>Persis' father had nearly bankrupted himself once before +over the wedding of Persis' sister into the British +peerage, when she ceased to be the beautiful Miss Cabot +and became the Countess of Kelvedon, and had the privilege +of being nineteenth in the fifty-seven varieties of +precedence among British women.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cabot had learned nothing from that investment. +He encouraged Persis to extravagances she would never +have dared even in her present mood. It was like chirruping +and taking the whip to a horse that was already +running away.</p> + +<p>He sent a long cablegram to Persis' sister, insisting +that she come over at once for the wedding and bring +the Earl and the eight-year-old Viscount of Selden, the +six-year-old Honorable Paul Hadham, and the five-year-old +Lady Maude Hadham. Persis received at once a +brief reply from the Countess:</p> + +<p>"Congratulations old girl snooks says awfully glad +to be with you if papa pays the freight we are stony. +Elise."</p> + +<p>"Snooks" was the Earl of Kelvedon. Sometimes Elise +called him "Kelly" for short. Papa cabled the freight—and +"freight" was beginning to describe his burdens. But +he was in for it; yet he felt that, come what come would, +he should henceforward lean comfortably on the Enslee +Estates.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis kept him signing checks till he was tempted +to buy one of those ingenious machines by which one +signs twenty at a time.</p> + +<p>Persis was running amuck among the shops. She was +in a torment of delight—a cat in a cosmos of catnip. The +equipment of the humblest bride is a matter of supreme +effort. To make a Persis Cabot ready to enter the dynasty +of the Enslees was a Xerxic invasion.</p> + +<p>The wedding-gown, though it was designed and builded +with almost the importance of St. Paul's Cathedral, was +the least part of the trousseau. Willie was to take her +yachting and motoring and touring—perhaps around the +world. They were to be presented at court if the Queen +forgave the Countess her latest epigram in time. They +were to visit capitals, castles, châteaux, gambling-palaces, +golf-links, beaches, spas. Costumes and changes of costumes +must be constructed for all these; for each costume +there must be a foundation from the skin out. If it had +been possible, the skin would have been changed as well. +They do their best in that direction—these women with +their pallor for a gown of one color and their carmine for +a gown of another.</p> + +<p>Persis had to have a going-to-the-altar gown, and a +going-away gown, and going-to-bed gowns, getting-up +gowns, going-motoring costumes, and going-in-swimming +suits, dinner-gowns, house-gowns, tea-gowns, informal +theater-gowns, opera-gowns, race-track togs, yachting +flannels. And these were of numberless schools of architecture +from train-gowns to tub frocks and smocks, from +lingerie dresses to semi-tailored one-piece and two-piece +suits, coats, and coatees, and coat-dresses, and sport-coats, +opera wraps, rain slip-ons.</p> + +<p>And there were colors to choose from that made the +rainbow look like a study in sepia. And there were fabrics +of strange names—crêpe, tulle, serge, taffeta, brocade, +charmeuse, paillette, jet, batiste, voile—what not?</p> + +<p>And there were the underpinnings to all these—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> +stockings and garters, the corsets and chiffon corset-covers +and combinations, chemi-pantalons and petticoats. And +there were the accessories—hats, caps, bonnets, gloves, +fans, parasols, veils, jabots, collars, aigrettes, boots, shoes, +slippers, powders, paints, cerates, massage-cream—<i>ad infinitum</i>. +And in every instance there must be a choice.</p> + +<p>The complexity of a woman's wardrobe! A man is +fitted out in a small haberdashery and a tailoring establishment, +a hat shop and a shoe store. For woman they +build Vaticans of merchandise in order that she may +make an effect on—other women!</p> + +<p>Persis had so many dresses to try on that she had two +pneumatic images made of her form to stand in her stead. +She had the servants' tongues hanging out from running +errands. Delivery-wagon drivers and messenger-boys +kept the area doorbells ringing early and late.</p> + +<p>There was so much mail to send out that she hired two +secretaries. Ten Eyck called on her just once, and was +used as telephone-boy, package-opener, stenographer, +change-purse, box-lifter, memorandum-maker, doorbell-answerer, +gift-cataloguer till he was exhausted.</p> + +<p>"How does a man ever dare to marry one of you +maniacs?" he said. "Marriage isn't a sacrament with +you; it's a massacre. They have a money macerator at +the mint that destroys old greenbacks. Why don't they +get a couple of brides to do the work? A wedding costs +as much as a small war."</p> + +<p>Persis might have retorted that wars were quite as +foolish a waste as fashions, and not half so pretty. A new +style in projectiles, the latest fabric of armor plate, the +mode in airships—these things, too, come and go, cost +fortunes, and are soon mere junk. But Persis' head was +too full of other things, and her mouth too full of pins, to +make any answer to Ten Eyck.</p> + +<p>If Forbes had called he might have seen that Persis +was a great general, or at least a great quartermaster, +equipping not an army with one uniform, but one poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> +little frantic body with an army of uniforms. And Forbes +would have been glad to take that body without a shift +to its back and wrap it in one of his own overcoats +and ride away with it. But for Willie she must loot +Paris.</p> + +<p>Still it was her career. Forbes would not give up his +for her; why should she give up hers for him?</p> + +<p>If Forbes had been leading his company to war he +would have felt sorry for Persis, bitterly sorry to leave her, +afraid for her; but he would still have gone, as men have +always gone. He would not have been immune to bugles +or the gait-quickening thrup of drums. He might have +hummed love songs to her, but "Dixie" would still have +thrilled him. He would not have neglected his uniform +or his tactics. He would not have skulked from a charge +or dodged a shell on her account.</p> + +<p>That was his trade. This was hers. And Persis was +as happy as a man is when he is going into battle. She +was happy because she was busy and because she was buying, +exercising choice, spurning, pillaging among cities +of beautiful things. She dozed standing while skirts were +draped; at night she simply fell into bed and was asleep; +her maid drew her skirts from her hips and her stockings +from her legs as if she were dead. But the next morning +she woke without being called, and began the day with +new ferocity of attack.</p> + +<p>She had not forgotten Forbes. The thought of him +hovered about her heart. She paused now and then, with +hand on cheek and eyes far away, thinking of him so intently +that the saleswoman had to speak twice to her, or +the dressmaker to lift her arms into the position he wanted +for the try-on.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she woke from dreams in which she seemed +to feel Forbes' arms about her. As she woke they were +withdrawn, as if he fled. She would weep a little and lick +the salt from her lips and find her tears very bitter. She +would pout at Fate and muse: "Why couldn't it have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +Harvey instead of Willie? Oh, what a pitiful sacrifice +I am making of my life!"</p> + +<p>But her anger or despair in these humors was not half +so intense as her despair at finding that some color could +not be matched or that a color chosen in electric light +was wrong in the daylight, or her anger because some +tradesman failed to keep his word or some caller came to +wish her well at a busy time, when true well-wishing would +have shown itself in keeping out of the way.</p> + +<p>A president could hardly have given more thought to +selecting his cabinet than Persis gave to the choice of her +bridesmaids, those lieutenants who must stand by in the +same uniform like moving caryatides. There was the +enormously important subject of their costume to debate. +Since the livery that suited one style of beauty was loathsome +on another, there was no little politics to play.</p> + +<p>Persis invited the four elect to a luncheon at her club, +and by having her ideas clear and enforcing them in a +delicately adamant tone she managed to close the session +in two hours. It was good work, and it was necessary; +for the bridesmaids' costumes must be ready in time for +the photographs.</p> + +<p>She managed the luncheon so well that she finished it +ahead of the time she had told her chauffeur to call for +her. She left the bridesmaids all talking at once, for she +had an appointment with one of her dressmakers. As +she came down the steps of the quaintly colonial Colony +Club she found no taxi in sight. She would not wait to +have one summoned. The brief walk would do her good. +She set out briskly down Madison Avenue and turned +into Twenty-ninth Street to cross to Fifth Avenue.</p> + +<p>This brought her to one of the few churchyards in almost +grassless New York—the pleasant green acre of the +Church of the Transfiguration, known to theatrical history +as "The Little Church Around the Corner," and to +the elopement industry as another Gretna Green.</p> + +<p>As she approached it a taxicab drew up at the curb,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +and Stowe Webb and Alice Neff bounced out, almost +bowling Persis over, as usual. Both had a much dressed-up +look, and Alice carried a little bouquet.</p> + +<p>Persis was in a hurry, but she scented excitement. +When the two lovers had apologized for their Juggernautical +haste she asked, with the demurest of smiles:</p> + +<p>"And what are you children doing in this dark alley?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we're just—just—" Alice stammered.</p> + +<p>"Does your mother know you're out?"</p> + +<p>"Naturally not," Alice smiled, more cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Mischief's brewing. I've got to know."</p> + +<p>"Can you keep a secret?"</p> + +<p>"That's my other name—Inviolate."</p> + +<p>Alice hesitated, then took a precaution. "Cross your +heart and hope to swallow fish-hooks?"</p> + +<p>Persis drew an X over her heart, and vowed: "I am +full of fish-hooks."</p> + +<p>Alice looked up and down the street cautiously, then +spoke in a whisper of awesome solemnity: "Well, then, +Stowe and I have given mama the slip, and we're going +to—to—"</p> + +<p>"Get a chocolate-sundae with two spoons!"</p> + +<p>Alice bridled with indignation. "Certainly not! We're +not children! We are going to run away and be married."</p> + +<p>Persis nodded her head gravely. "That was what I +was afraid you were going to say. But why this haste?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Stowe has just got a job—umm-humm! +It's a terribly important post—secretary to Ambassador +Tait."</p> + +<p>"Ambassador?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the Senator is going to France, and Stowe is to +help him out."</p> + +<p>The young secretary spoke in, trying not to look as +important as he felt: "I simply can't endure the thought +of leaving Alice all alone over here. So we're going to +get married."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fine!" said Persis, with subtlety. "I suppose you get +a whopping big salary."</p> + +<p>"Indeed he does!" said Alice. "Twelve hundred a year! +It's wonderful for a beginning."</p> + +<p>Persis suppressed her emotions at the talk of salary. +She hated the word; but she exclaimed, "Wonderful!" +Then she turned to Stowe to ask: "Does the Senator +know you're going to bring a bride along?"</p> + +<p>"No; we're going to surprise him."</p> + +<p>Persis thought of her appointment. It was vitally important, +but she felt a call to duty. She thought it was +rather good of her to heed it. She bundled the two young +people back into the waiting taxicab in spite of their +protests.</p> + +<p>"Take us for a little drive, Stowe," she said. "I want +a word with you. Tell the man to go down Washington +Square way. You're not so likely to meet her mother."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">STOWE obeyed reluctantly, and the taxicab groaned +on its way. Persis set Stowe on the small flap-seat +and turned so that she could skewer him and Alice with +one look.</p> + +<p>"Now, Alice," she began, "let's be sensible." Alice +looked appealingly at Stowe, but Persis objected. "Don't +look at him—look at me. First, who's going to support +you children when you are married?"</p> + +<p>They answered like a chorus: "Why, he is (I am), of +course."</p> + +<p>"Alice, dear, how much has your mother been allowing +you for pin-money—say, five thousand a year?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she claims it's more than that. We had an +awful row the first of last month."</p> + +<p>Persis looked very innocent and school-girlish as she +said: "And Mr. Webb gets twelve hundred?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Now, Alice, I'm very backward in mathematics, so +you'll have to tell me: if one person cannot live on five +thousand a year, do you think two persons will be perfectly +comfortable on twelve hundred?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I'll economize!" Alice protested. "It will be +a pleasure to do without things—if I have Stowe."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Persis sniffed, "almost anything we're not used +to is pleasant for a novelty; but in time I should fancy +that even economy would cease to be a luxury. And +where in Paris do you plan to live on your twelve hundred?"</p> + +<p>"At a hotel, to begin with," Stowe suggested.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll eat your cake first, eh? Not a bad idea; +you're sure of getting it, then."</p> + +<p>"Then we can get such ducks of flats in Auteuil."</p> + +<p>"The Harlem of Paris," Persis sneered, then grew more +amiable. "A duck of an apartment is all very well, my +dear, for those who have wings; but climbing stairs—ugh! +Four flights of stairs six times a day—that's twenty-four +flights. Seven times twenty-four is—help!"</p> + +<p>"One hundred and sixty-eight, I believe," said Stowe, +after a mental twist.</p> + +<p>"Bravo! You're a regular wizard at mathematics," +said Persis. "One hundred and sixty-eight flights of +stairs a week, and fifty-two times one hundred and sixty-eight +is how much? Quick!"</p> + +<p>"You've got me there. I fancy I could do it with a piece +of chalk and a blackboard."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a million, I'm sure," Persis summed it. +"Think of that! a million flights of stairs the first year +of marriage! What love could survive it? And how +many rooms is your sky-parlor going to have?"</p> + +<p>"Seven and bath."</p> + +<p>"On twelve hundred a year?" Persis gasped. "Aren't +you going to eat anything?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we could manage with two."</p> + +<p>"Two rooms!" Persis gasped again. "And your mother's +house has thirty! Two rooms? Why, where will the +servants sleep?"</p> + +<p>"We sha'n't have any servants," Alice averred, stoutly.</p> + +<p>And her husband-to-be protested: "No, Alice, I'll +never let you soil your pretty hands with work."</p> + +<p>Persis pressed the point. "But really, now, what about +food?"</p> + +<p>"You can do Wonders with a chafing-dish," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"And a chafing-dish can do wonders with a stomach," +said Persis. "Bread and cheese—that is to say, Welsh +rabbits—and kisses as a steady diet?" She shook her +head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alice made another try. "Well, everybody says you +can buy almost everything in cans."</p> + +<p>"Including ptomaines. Oh, children, you don't know +what's in store for you."</p> + +<p>"Of course we shall have hardships," Stowe confessed; +"but nothing can be worse than this uncertainty, this +separation."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, it can, Stowe!" Persis cried. "There are +harder things to bear than the things we lose, and they +are the things we can't lose."</p> + +<p>"The things we can't lose?" said Stowe; "that means +me, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Alice, come back to earth," Persis urged, with all +her might. "Think how tired you'll get of living in a +dark little pigeonhole away up in the air, with no neighbors +but working-people. And when your pretty gowns +are worn out, and you lose your pretty looks and your +pretty figure and your fresh color—for those are expensive +luxuries—and when you see that your husband is growing +disappointed in you because the harder you work for him +the homelier and duller you become—that's a woman's +fate, Alice: to alienate a man by the very sacrifices she +makes to bind him closer; and when—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't tell me any more whens," Alice whimpered. +"What do I care? I want Stowe. He needs me. We are +unhappy away from each other."</p> + +<p>Persis shook her head like a sibyl. "Be careful that +you don't find yourselves more unhappy together. For +some day you'll grow bitter. You'll remember what you +gave up. You'll begin to remind him of it—to nag—and +nag—oh, the unspeakable vulgarity of it! And then +you'll ruin Stowe's career—just as it's beginning. The +Senator doesn't want a secretary with a wife. You'll +always be in the way. Stowe will have to be leaving you +all the time or fretting over you. You'll hamper his usefulness, +and check his career, and grind him down to +poverty, break his spirit."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't want to do that!" Alice wept. "I mustn't +do that!"</p> + +<p>"Then wait—wait!" Persis pleaded. "Marriage is +risky enough when there is no worry about money. But +when the bills come in at the door love flies out at the +window."</p> + +<p>Stowe seized Alice's hands with ardor. "Don't listen +to her, Alice."</p> + +<p>"But I'm frightened now," Alice wailed. "It's for +your sake, Stowe. We mustn't—not yet. And now may +I please go home where I can cry my eyes out."</p> + +<p>Persis in triumph called the address to the chauffeur. +Stowe Webb, in the depths of dejection, left the cab and +stared after it with eyes of bitter reproach.</p> + +<p>Alice's tears were standing out like orient pearls impaled +on eyelashes as she said good-by to Persis at her +own curb.</p> + +<p>"You hate me now," said Persis, "but you'll be very +glad this happened some day."</p> + +<p>"I don't hate you," said Alice. "I know you're terribly +wise; but I—I wish you hadn't come along."</p> + +<p>Persis laughed tenderly. "It's only for your happiness, +Alice darling. Well, good-by!"</p> + +<p>Persis felt that she had done an honest day's work of +Samaritan wisdom, and ordered the cab to make haste +to her dressmaker. A he-dressmaker it was, who, like a +fashionable doctor, found it profitable to behave like a +gorilla and abuse his clients. He turned on Persis and +stormed up and down his show-room. He threatened to +throw out all her costumes. She bore with him as meekly +as if she were a ragged seamstress pleading for a job instead +of the bride-elect of an Enslee.</p> + +<p>When she had thus appeased his wrath he changed his +tune to a rhapsody. She was to be the most beautiful +bride that ever dragged a train up an aisle, and she should +drag the most beautiful train that ever followed a maid +to the altar and a wife away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS was not the only busy person in New York. +Willie was kept on the jump preparing his share of +the performance. The ushers were to be chosen, and their +gifts, and a dinner given to them; and his list of friends +to receive announcements and invitations must be made +up, and the bride's gift selected, and the itinerary of the +honeymoon arranged, his yacht put into commission, and +a dinner of farewell to bachelorhood accepted and endured.</p> + +<p>He hardly caught a glimpse of Persis all this while, and +when he heard her voice on the telephone it was only to +receive some new list of chores. He missed the billing +and cooing that he knew belonged to these conversations. +His heart ached to be assured of Persis' love; but she +was incapable of even imitating the amorous note with +him. When he pleaded for tendernesses she put him off +as best she could by blaming her brusqueness on her +overwork, as one who does not wish to sign oneself "Yours +faithfully" or "affectionately" or even "truly" writes +"Yours hastily."</p> + +<p>But Willie's incessant prayer for love harassed her. +It was a phase of him that had been unimportant hitherto. +And it alarmed her a little. It would have given her +greater uneasiness if she had not had so many other matters +to worry her, if she had not had so many fascinating +excitements to divert her.</p> + +<p>Forbes was busy, too. Senator Tait had easily arranged +his appointment as military attaché. He had his duties +to learn in this capacity. He had to polish up his French +and take lessons in conversation and composition, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> +learn what he could about the French military establishment +and procedure. And he had to make ready for a +long residence abroad.</p> + +<p>To him, too, preoccupation was an opiate for suffering. +Ambition and pride were resuming their interrupted sway. +So long as he was busy he counted Persis as one of the +tragedies of his past, and his love of her as a thing lived +down and sealed in the archives of his heart.</p> + +<p>But when he had an hour of leisure or of sleeplessness, +she came back to him like a ghost with eery beauty and +uncanny charm. He found her in nearly every newspaper, +too. The announcement of her engagement brought +forth a shower of portraits. There were articles about the +alliance between the two families of Enslee and Cabot, +about the bride's style of beauty, her recipes for beauty, +silly accounts of interviews she never gave, beauty secrets +she never used, exercises she never took, opinions on matters +on which she had never thought. She was caught by +camera-bogies on every shopping expedition, at the steeplechases, +at the weddings of other people—everywhere. +There were moving pictures of her; pictures of her in her +babyhood, her girlhood, in old-fashioned costumes and +poses. Women began to copy her hats, her coiffures, her +costumes. An alert merchant with a large amount of an +unsalable material on hand named it "Persis pink," and +women fought for it. It became a household word, or, its +substitute nowadays, a newspaper word.</p> + +<p>Forbes was dumfounded at the publicity of Persis. +He was tempted to believe that she had gone mad and +hired a press-agent. But a woman who marries a rich +enough man needs no booming to-day. The whisper of +her engagement starts the avalanche. She becomes as +public as a queen or a politician or a criminal.</p> + +<p>The incessant encounter with Persis' beauty in every +newspaper, morning and evening and Sunday, and in the +illustrated weeklies, kept Forbes' wound open. He could +not escape her. It was like being a prisoner at a window<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +where she was always passing. She smiled at him everywhere, +and always with the shadow of the Enslee name +imminent above her.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the day he sailed, as he held +his newspaper between his coffee and his cigar, certain +head-lines leaped up and shouted at him from the top of +a column with a roar as of apocalyptic trumpets. He hastened +to his room to be alone while he read the chronicle +of what was already past.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="center p2"> +MISS PERSIS CABOT<br /> +WEDS WM. ENSLEE<br /> +</p> +<p class="bbs"></p> + +<p class="center small">HEAD OF THE FAMOUS HOUSE<br /> +MARRIED AT ST. THOMAS'S<br /> +YESTERDAY AFTERNOON<br /> +</p> + +<p class="bbs"></p> + +<p class="center">Reception at Bride's Home +</p> +<p class="bbs"></p> + +<p class="center p3">Earl and Countess of Kelvedon among Distinguished Guests.<br /> +Church a Mass of Bloom. +</p> + +<p>The marriage of William Enslee, the present head of the great +dynasty of Enslee, and Miss Persis Cabot, the famous beauty, +daughter of an equally distinguished family, was celebrated at +4:30 yesterday afternoon in St. Thomas's Church, Fifty-third +Street and Fifth Avenue. This was the largest and most brilliant +wedding of the season.</p> + +<p>The chancel of the church was banked with rambler roses and +white daisies, against a background of camellia-trees and towering +palms, and the way to the altar was marked with bay and +orange trees. The altar was a mass of bridal roses under an +immense trellis of trailing smilax.</p> + +<p>While the guests were arriving a recital was given by an +orchestra, which played several selections at the bride's request, +including the "Evening Star" from "Tannhäuser," the prelude +to "Lohengrin," the gavotte from "Mignon," and Simonetti's +"Madrigale."</p> + +<p>The ushers who seated the guests included the bride's brother, +LeGrand Cabot, Murray Ten Eyck, Robert Gammell Fielding, +and Ives Erskine.</p> + +<p>The full vested-choir service was used for the ceremony, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +Barnby's "O Perfect Love" was played as the processional. +The bride walked down the nave with her father, who gave her +in marriage, being preceded by the ushers, bridesmaids, matron, +maid of honor, and flower-bearers. The bride wore a robe of +heavy white satin, the skirt being draped with long motifs of old +family lace and finished with a square train, which was edged +with clusters of orange blossoms. The bodice was cut low and +square in front, of lace and chiffon, with a deep collar of rose +point lace of square and distinctive cut at the back. Her tulle +veil was arranged about her head in cap effect, held by a coronet +of orange blossoms. Her only ornament was a superb necklace +of diamonds, the gift of the bridegroom.</p> + +<p>She carried a cluster bouquet of white orchids, an ivory +prayer-book that was also carried by her mother at her wedding, +and a Valenciennes handkerchief.</p> + +<p>The Countess of Kelvedon, the bride's sister, was matron of +honor. She wore a costume of soft white charmeuse, with an +overskirt drapery effect of green chiffon, almost as deep in color +as jade-green, and the upper part of her gown was a combination +of satin and white chiffon, with a V opening at the neck. Her +round leghorn hat was encircled with jade-green satin, and topped +at the side with bows of green ribbon and pink roses. Her only +ornament was a solitaire diamond suspended on an invisible +platinum chain, and she carried a bouquet of Mme. Chatenay +roses.</p> + +<p>Her two little children were the flower-bearers, the tiny Honorable +Paul Hadham and the exquisite little Lady Maude +Hadham.</p> + +<p>The four bridesmaids, the Misses Winifred Mather, Emma Gay, +Lois Twombly, and Frances Iselin, also wore gowns that were +a charming combination of white and green. Wide panels of +green chiffon fell from the back of the shoulders to the hem of +the ankle-length skirts of charmeuse, which disclosed white slippers +with large rhinestone buckles. The green chiffon crossed +the shoulders in fichu effect, and the elbow-length sleeves were +edged with bands of green. Their leghorn hats of brown straw +were trimmed with green satin and white chiffon, and faced with +black velvet, with upright bows of green at the side. They each +carried bouquets of roses, sweet-peas, and field-daisies, tied with +pink satin streamers, and their ornaments were locket watches, +the gift of the bride.</p> + +<p>The ceremony was performed by the rector of the church, +assisted by....</p> + +<p>Twenty-five hundred invitations were sent out for the wedding. +The church was quite full, and the residence of the bride's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +parents, where the wedding reception was held, was crowded to +its utmost. Mr. and Mrs. Enslee received congratulations in the +Cabot drawing-room. A collation was served in the....</p> + +<p>Some of the wedding-gifts were shown in rooms on the third +floor. They were....</p> + +<p>After the reception Mr. and Mrs. Enslee will leave almost +immediately for a honeymoon cruise on Mr. Enslee's yacht. +They will tour Europe later.</p> + +<p>Among those invited to the wedding were....</p></blockquote> + +<p>The paper dropped from Forbes' hand. The irrevocable +was accomplished. She was Enslee's, body and soul +and name.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES had not been invited to Persis' wedding. +She had debated the matter feverishly and resolved +that it was the lesser slight to leave him out of the twenty-five +hundred who received the double-enveloped engravings. +There was a certain distinction in being omitted, +and she knew that he could not account it an oversight. +She had been tempted to write him a letter. She +scrawled off a dozen and tore them up in turn. What +she had to say could not be put on paper. Besides, it +would be hideously indiscreet.</p> + +<p>But Forbes was present in her thoughts. He was the +chief wedding guest in her soul. He seemed to kneel +between her and the groom and try to shoulder him away. +This added a last terror to the multitude of her frights—frights +ranging in importance from a fear that she might +kneel on her veil and pull it askew to nameless terrors of +the bridegroom.</p> + +<p>There had been a lilt of gaiety in trying on the bridal +robe for the rehearsals and the posings before the camera. +But when she made her final entrance into the snowy costume +it seemed to be entering into the shroud of maidenhood. +The journey to the church was like a ride in her +hearse, only that the progress through the streets was difficult +because of a crowd so dense that mounted policemen +could hardly push and trample lane enough for her to +reach the awning.</p> + +<p>And under the narrow canopy a rabble jostled her and +peered into her face, even plucked at her robes, as if she +had been a French princess on her way to the guillotine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> +The rabble inside the church was hardly less insolently +inquisitive for being better dressed.</p> + +<p>The preliminaries of the march; the whispered instructions +and warnings; the corrected blunders; the stupidity +of her father, made a child by the shame that sweeps over +a father at delivering his girl-child to a man to possess; +the sudden grief of her sister, the Countess; Persis' almost +overpowering tempest of desire to flee from the church +and run to Forbes for refuge—a whirlpool of emotions and +memoranda and impressions.</p> + +<p>And then the march beginning, the organ blaring, the +ushers setting forth, and her sister and the children and +the maids of honor; herself clinging to her father's arm, +which trembled so that she rather supported him than he +her; the arrival at the altar, where Willie was standing, a +sick green from church-fright; the waiting priests, the +rites, the hush of the throng to hear the answers; the +strange piping tone of Willie's voice; the odd sound of +her own.</p> + +<p>Now she was filled with a realization of the awe of this +great deed, a realization so vivid and so new that it seemed +to be her first understanding of it. While she was kneeling +in the prayer her thoughts were not soaring aloft, but +swirling with thoughts of Forbes and memories of his +embraces, a sense of his arms clasping her now so that +she could hardly breathe, a wondering if his eyes and +thoughts were on her, and where her nightcap was, and +a swooning recollection of her cry of "Help me, Harvey!" +a frightful impulse to leap to her feet and cry again to +him to help her—then sick shudders at the blasphemy of +such thoughts amid the sacraments at her husband's side—for +Willie was already her husband, she wore his ring. +He had kissed her. They were standing up again. They +were signing something. They were leaving the church. +It was over. It was just beginning. She was no longer +her own; nor her father's. Her father could not protect +her from this man at her side. Nobody could. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +police and the judges and the laws were drawn up to keep +her his.</p> + +<p>Everybody was congratulating her, everybody was smiling, +everybody was grinning to think that the marriage +was not yet consummated. Back of all the gorgeousness +and the glitter and the music and the sacrament waited +the hideous profanation, the grossness, the violation of +all that was precious and secret and holy.</p> + +<p>She had a blurred sense of returning to the carriage +and to the house, and of the mob there, the clatter of +tongues, the price-mark appraisal of gifts, the swinish +greediness about the buffet, the smirking repetition of +the same banalities, the lines of drifting hands, the faces +that floated up like melons on a stream and spoke and +sometimes kissed her. But what did it matter who kissed +her now? They were Willie's cheeks and Willie's lips. +She was all Willie's, now and for evermore.</p> + +<p>Eventually, when she was white-mouthed with fatigue +and eager to swoon out of the pandemonium, some one +took pity on her, and she was spirited away to her room +and her bridal livery taken from her. The weight of the +veil and the train had been greater than she knew. The +blossoms were lifted from her head, and in their place a +little black straw hat with a frill of black tulle was pinned. +And in place of her white satin a simple Callot gown of +sage-green cloth was fastened about her girlhood the last +time.</p> + +<p>She looked to be only a smart young woman, but she +was now truly in the robe of sacrifice. They whispered +about her and called her "Mrs. Enslee" with immemorial +mischief; but it was still Persis Cabot that slipped from +the house and met Willie, still a bachelor. They hurried +into the limousine and sped to that clandestine meeting in +the hotel suite where they were to tarry till the morrow. +And then the yacht was to take them on a long cruise +across an ocean of bliss to the unknown continent beyond +the honeymoon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now the crowdless silence seemed to ring in her +ears. She had heard so much noise and suffered so many +stares and vibrated to so many excitements that the +abrupt hush left her dizzy as on the edge of an unexpected +abyss. It was like one of Beethoven's symphonies, where +sound is piled on sound and speed on speed till the storm +sweeps toward an intolerable climax, and just as the +thunder and the lightning are to come there is instead a +complete hush; and then a little oboe voice twanging.</p> + +<p>She had been swept and spun in a maelstrom, an eternal +crash! crash! crash! Then suddenly she was alone in a +room with this little man. She heard the thud of the door +like a coffin lid. She heard the lock click; she saw him +peering at her with a fox-like slyness. He was whipping +off his coat and waistcoat and fumbling at his scarf. +And his words were in his whining, oboe voice:</p> + +<p>"Well, that's over. And, thank God, I can get out of +this damned collar before it chokes me!"</p> + +<p>That was his first comment on their solitude! But it +was better than the love speeches he tried to make next.</p> + +<p>She sank into a chair; but he was wrapping his arms +about her. He was trying to say pretty things, and +making a complete fiasco. He was kissing her with +ownership, and she dared not turn her lips from his, +though all her soul was averted.</p> + +<p>He was tugging at her hatpins and pulling her hair +naggingly. She rose, controlling her impatience, and +spoke with a meekness that amazed her:</p> + +<p>"Nichette is there. She will—help me."</p> + +<p>He grinned peevishly.</p> + +<p>"Nichette, eh? I thought we were to be alone—for +once? Well, send her away—as soon as you can."</p> + +<p>He spoke already with command, and she said, with that +sick meekness:</p> + +<p>"All right, Willie."</p> + +<p>She slunk away and was afraid to meet the eyes of +Nichette. And even Nichette wept at her ministrations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +And then she sent Nichette away. At the door Nichette +paused to stare through eyes of water, then ran back and +clasped Persis and kissed her, and ran out and closed the +door.</p> + +<p>And Persis waited for her husband. Her thoughts were +bitter. She was utterly ashamed. It was not the beautiful +shame of a bride whose lover knocks at her door. +She was understanding her bargain. She had kept herself +for Willie Enslee. She had fought off lovers and +love and fled from her own heart that she might be +worthy of Willie Enslee and his money! Her body was +no longer a shrine. She had rented it to the highest +bidder. And the tenant had arrived.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">AS Forbes had once surveyed the tide of Fifth Avenue +from the upper deck of a motor-bus, so now, from +a sky-scraping ship he watched the thronged traffic along +the spacious avenue of the Hudson River and the broad +plaza of the bay.</p> + +<p>Among the tugs, noisy and rowdy as newsboys, the +waddling ferry-boats, the barges loaded with refuse or +freight-trains, the passenger-boats and excursion-boats, +and the merchantmen from many ports, a few yachts +picked their way superciliously, their bowsprits like upturned +noses, their trim white flanks like skirts drawn +aside.</p> + +<p>Among these yachts, though Forbes was unaware of it, +was the <i>Isolde</i>, known to those who know such things as +a ridiculously luxurious craft, a floating residence. Persis +had christened the yacht at Willie's request, and he had +accepted the name as a good omen, since he said: "I +always have a perfect sleep when <i>Isolde</i> is under way."</p> + +<p>Persis, herself now an Isolde wedded to one man and +loving another, passed the famous sky-line which seemed +to continue another Palisades, only fantastically carved +and honeycombed with windows. When these cliffs of +human fashioning were pulled backward, there was a +space of dancing water, and then Governor's Island, +with its moldy old mouse-trap of a fort.</p> + +<p>Never dreaming that Forbes was on the liner that had +gone down the bay a few moments before, Persis fastened +her binocular on the island and tried to pick him out +from among the men whom distance rendered lilliputian.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +She selected some vague promenader and sent him her +blessings. If he ever received them he never knew whence +they came.</p> + +<p>Forbes was groping toward her in thought like a wireless +telegrapher trying to reach another and unable to +come to accord. Forbes was entering upon the Atlantic +Ocean for the first time, and Persis was embarking on +another sea equally new to her, for marriage is a kind of +ocean to a woman. Maidens struggle toward it and consecrate +themselves to it from far inland; they come forth +upon the roaring wonder of its cathedral music; the surf +flings white flowers at their feet. They venture farther +and encounter the first shocks of the breakers, and thereafter +the sea lies vast and monotonous with happiness or +grief and their interchange. But the prosperity of the +voyage is less from without than from within the boat. +Persis was not lucky in the captain she had shipped with.</p> + +<p>To-day's Persis on the boat was altogether another +woman from yesterday's Persis. The toil and fever of +preparation, the bacchantic orgies of purchase, the dressing +up, the celebration of the festival—these were the joys +of the wedding to her, and she had drained them to the +full. They left her exhausted and sated. The anticipation +was over, the realization begun.</p> + +<p>In some wiser communities the bride and groom separate +for a day or two after the ceremony. But Persis had no +such breathing-space. Persis was delivered to Willie Enslee +in a state of fagged-out nerves, muscles, and brain. +To him, however, the weeks of preparation had been a +mere annoyance, a postponement, a prelude too long, too +ornate. And when at last the prize was his he found the +fact almost intolerably beautiful. He possessed Persis +Enslee! She had no longer even a name of her own. +Miss Cabot had been merged into the Enslee Estates.</p> + +<p>One does not expect to-day the childlike innocence that +was revealed or pretended by the brides of other years. +Nowadays even their mothers "tell them things." And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> +Willie knew that Persis was neither ignorant nor ingenuous. +Her gossip, the scandal she knew, the books +and plays she discussed, her sophisticated attitude toward +people and life had long ago proved that, whatever she +might be, she was not without knowledge. She knew as +much as Mildred Tait, and her talk was nearly as free, +but always from the cynical, the flippant, or the shocked +point of view.</p> + +<p>Willie did not expect to initiate an ignoramus into any +unheard-of mysteries. He expected at most a certain +modest reluctance and confusion. He was dumfounded +to be met with icy horror and shuddering recoil. After +the first repulse the terror with which she cringed away +from his caresses enhanced her the more.</p> + +<p>He imputed it to a native purity. He believed—and it +was true—that she had come through all the years and +temptations and the dangerous environments with her +body and her soul somehow protected to this great event. +It was a kind of purity. But not what he thought it.</p> + +<p>Persis' creed—if she had thought much about it—would +have been the creed of many a woman: that love +sanctifies all that it inspires; and that unchastity is what +Rahel Varnhagen defined it—intercourse without love, +whether legalized or not.</p> + +<p>If Persis had married the man she loved, the man whose +touch was like a flame, she would still have been terrified; +but love would have hallowed the conquest, changed +fright into ecstasy, and glorified surrender.</p> + +<p>Willie's touch had always chilled her clammily. What +she saw in his eyes now offended her utterly, filled her with +loathing and with panic as before a violation. But after +this first rebellion she regained control of her fears and +reasoned coldly with herself. When she had said "Yes" +to Willie's courtship, and when she had made her affirmations +in the church, she had given him her I. O. U. She +was not one to repudiate a gambling loss. She forbore +resistance, but she could not mimic rapture. Yet rapture<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +was part of the bargain. Soul and flesh could not pay the +obligation her mind had so lightly incurred.</p> + +<p>And now it was Enslee that recoiled, strangely smitten +with an awe, a reverence for her and her integrity. "You +are a saint," he murmured, "an angel, and I am a brute. +You are too good, too wonderful!"</p> + +<p>Persis was startled at being treated with reverence. It +was perhaps the first time she had ever been held sacred. +She accepted this tribute in lieu of the others, and they +left the hotel as they had entered it, still bachelor and +maid, though they wore the same name.</p> + +<p>But she was alone upon the ocean now, and she feared +her husband more than before. She found him somewhat +ridiculous in his uniform, with his yachting-cap a trifle top-heavy +for his slim skull. Yet he was the owner; his flag +and his club pennant were fluttering aloft. And Persis +felt sure that he had repented of his mercy and was +ashamed of his asceticism.</p> + +<p>He ogled her as he paced the unstable deck, and found +her more beautiful than ever, clad in a trim white suit +and curled up in her chair like a purring kitten, the sun +sifting over her through the awning like a golden powder. +And he knew that she was his. He paused at her side +and mellowed her cheek, pinched the lobe of her ear, and +pursed his lips to kiss her red lips. She winced, then +frowned, and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"The crew is watching," she explained. And he retorted:</p> + +<p>"They expect us to be a little silly, don't they? They'll +think it stranger if we aren't than if we are, won't they? +Even those Scandinavian sailors are human."</p> + +<p>And so—for the sake of the Scandinavians—she accepted +his caresses.</p> + +<p>It was such a sarcastic parody of her own code that +she laughed aloud. She was good sport enough to laugh +at herself when the joke was on her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p> + +<p>But it was bitter laughter; and it ended on the margin +of hysteria. She conquered that—for the sake of the +Scandinavians. But she felt altogether forlorn, miserably +cheap, fooled.</p> + +<p>That bitterness of hers embittered Enslee. He felt that +he was being made ridiculous in the sight of man and +God and himself. He remembered proverbs about mastership, +about women's love of brutality, their fondness for +being overpowered.</p> + +<p>He grew fiercely petulant, sardonic, ugly. He whined +and swore and muttered. And, finally, to that mood she +yielded, feeling herself degraded beneath her own contempt.</p> + +<p>And now Persis was married and not married. Strange +fires were kindled and left to smolder sullenly. Unsuspected +desires were stirred to mutiny and not quelled. +Latent ferocities of passion were wakened to terrify and +torment her. And only now she understood who and +what it was she had married. Only now she realized what +it meant to marry without love and to marry for keeps. +The vision of her future was unspeakably hideous. Her +life was already a failure, her career a disaster.</p> + +<p>Persis had always loved crowds and the excitement +they make. It was only with Forbes that she had found +contentment in dual solitude, in hours of quiet converse, +or in mute communion. Next best to being with him was +being alone, for then she had thoughts of him for company.</p> + +<p>Now Forbes was banished from her existence by her +own decree. Willie was to be her life-fellow for all her +days and nights, while her youth perished loveless.</p> + +<p>And now once more she pined for crowds. Solitude +with Willie was an alkaline Death Valley without oasis. +She grew frantic to be rid of him, or, at least, to mitigate +him with other companionships. And he who had been +restlessly unhappy without her found that he could not +be happy with her, because of the one mad regret that he +could not make her love him as he loved her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mismated and incompatible in every degree, they glared +at each other like sick wretches in the same hospital ward. +The next evening as they sat at table in the dining-saloon +it came over her that for the rest of her days she must see +that unbeautiful face opposite her. She felt an impulse +to scream, to run to the railing and leap overboard, to +thwart that life-sentence in any possible way. But she +kept her frenzy hidden in her breast and said, with all the +inconsequence she could assume:</p> + +<p>"To-morrow they'll be playing the first international +polo game."</p> + +<p>Even Willie heard the shiver of longing in the tone. +It meant that the honeymoon was already boring her. +His heart broke, but all he said was:</p> + +<p>"Er—yes—I believe it is to-morrow. Like to go?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," she murmured. "I was just thinking what +a splendid sight it will be. Everybody will be there, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>"Er—yes—I suppose so."</p> + +<p>She lighted her third cigarette since the soup, and, rising +from the table, drifted to the piano clamped to the walls +of the drawing-room. Her mind was far off, and her +fingers, left to themselves, stumbled through a disjointed +chaos of melodies from nocturnes to tangos and back.</p> + +<p>Willie stood it as long as he could, then his torment +broke out in a cry more tragic than its words:</p> + +<p>"For God's sake play something or quit."</p> + +<p>She quit.</p> + +<p>She walked to a porthole and stared out at the dark +waves shuffling past like stampeding cattle.</p> + +<p>He apologized at once. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. +I apologize."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," she sighed, with doleful graciousness. +But when he knelt by her and put his arm around +her she slipped from his clasp and went out on the deck. +He followed her. But neither of them spoke.</p> + +<p>The moon on the sea spread a pathway of dancing white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +tiles. She wanted to run away, to step forth on that +fantastic pavement and follow it out of the world.</p> + +<p>To Forbes, on a distant ship in midocean the same +moon was spreading the same path straight to him. He +stared into its shifting glamour till his eyes were bewitched. +He could see Persis walking on the water in the boudoir +cap and the shimmering thing she wore that morning.</p> + +<p>They were thinking of each other, longing for each +other, and the space between them was widening every +moment.</p> + +<p>It came over Persis with maddening vividness that she +had made a ruin of her happiness. All the wealth was +nothing but mockery. Even the hats and the multitudes +of dresses were wasted splendor, weapons of conquest to +be left in an armory.</p> + +<p>The night grew more and more wonderful. The moon +was like a white face flung back with unappeased desire. +The wind across the waves tugged amorously at her hair +and whimpered and caressed her. And she was with +Willie Enslee, the unlovable, the hideously uninteresting, +the intolerable. She was handcuffed to Willie Enslee for +life.</p> + +<p>The ache of longing that thrilled the night world thrilled +Enslee's heart, too; and he crept close to her, his adoration, +his wife, the only soul on earth he deeply loved. He set +his cheek against hers and clenched her in his arms fiercely. +And immediately he encountered that hopeless antipathy, +though all she said was a faintly petulant "Don't, please!"</p> + +<p>It struck him in the face like a little fist. He moved +aloof from her in abject humiliation and thought hard, +took out a cigarette, tapped it on the back of his hand, +puffed restlessly, threw the cigarette over the rail, and a +moment later took out another. There was no need for +words. The air throbbed with Persis' detestation of the +voyage. The sailing-master passed. Willie called to him:</p> + +<p>"Svendsen!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Put about and make for home."</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, sir."</p> + +<p>"You heard!"</p> + +<p>"Aye, aye, sir."</p> + +<p>The commands were given in the distance, a bell rang +remotely in the engine-room, and the stars wheeled across +the sky as the yacht came round.</p> + +<p>The phosphorescent sea revealed the wake they had +plowed in a long straight furrow of white fire, and now +there was a sharp curve in the line. And shortly they +were paralleling its dimming radiance.</p> + +<p>They were bound for home. The mere thought of the +word brought a tragic chuckle from Enslee's heart. Home +was a word he could not hope to use. Home was a thing +he must do without.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a>CHAPTER LII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS was sorry for her husband, but just a trifle +sorrier for Persis. She solaced herself with the +thought that it was partly for Willie's own sake that she +consented to go back, since if she stayed out in that +solitude with him any longer she would go mad and jump +overboard. And he would not like that in the least. A +bride in town would be worth two in the ocean. Besides, +a suicide on a honeymoon would be sure to cause a fearful +scandal. She could imagine the head-lines.</p> + +<p>Willie was a darling to yield so easily. It showed her +how much he loved her—also how meekly he obeyed her. +That is always an important question to settle. Perhaps +it is what honeymoons are for—training-stations in which +husbands are broken to harness and taught to answer +a mere chirrup; it saves the whip.</p> + +<p>But the comfort Persis took in finding that her husband +was her messenger-boy ended as they came up the +bay again. She suddenly realized that for Willie and her +to be seen at the polo games, when they had so ostentatiously +set out on their honeymoon only two days before, +would provoke a landslide of gossip. Everybody on earth +would be at the polo games, and she and Willie could not +hope to escape attention. They would be ridiculed to +death behind their backs and to their faces. Therefore +they must not go.</p> + +<p>She explained this to Willie, and he shook his head +and broke out, peevishly:</p> + +<p>"Why the bally hell didn't you think of all this in the +first place?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In the first place, Willie," said Persis, "you are the +man of the family, and supposed to do the thinking. In +the second place, I won't be sworn at."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't swearing at you, my love. I was just swearing. +Well, if you don't want to go to the polo games, +where in—where do you want to go—up to the country +place?"</p> + +<p>Here was a problem. She was sure that she did not +want to be alone in a country house with Willie. That +would be worse than the yacht. Since she could not endure +either to be alone with him or to go among crowds +with him, the dilemma was perfect. Already there was +another incompatibility established.</p> + +<p>She was mad for diversion, and, being herself a polo +player of no small prowess, she was frantic to see the +effort of the British team to wrest back the trophy. But +a stronger passion still was the determination to evade +gossip.</p> + +<p>She and Willie, therefore, sneaked from their yacht to +their house in town. They astounded the servants, and +there was much scurrying and whisking.</p> + +<p>They dined together alone, though Persis was eager to +be in a restaurant where there was music. She was like +a child kept in after school. She flattened her nose against +a window-pane and stared out at life. After dinner the +prospect of an evening with Willie rendered her desperate. +They could at least go to the theater somewhere. Nobody +was in town; they would be quite unnoticed. But when +nobody is in town the theaters close up. There was nothing +they had not seen or had not been warned against. +Willie proposed a roof-garden—Hammerstein's.</p> + +<p>They went, and beheld a chimpanzee that rode various +bicycles, smoked a cigar expertly, and spat with amazing +fidelity to the technique of the super-ape; also a British +peeress who danced in less clothes than the chimpanzee +wore.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck was there. He tried to hide from Persis and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> +Willie, not because he was ashamed to be seen by them, +but because he was afraid that Persis and Willie would +not want to be seen by him. He had cherished no illusions +for the success of the match on its sentimental side, but +he had expected them to see the honeymoon through. +He kept out of their sight, but they stumbled on him +during the intermission, when the audience crowded into +a space at the back of the roof where a patient cow was +milked by electricity at an uncowly hour, and where +couples rowed boats up and down an almost microscopic +lake.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck had not expected Persis and Willie to join +this hot and foolish mob. But he felt a hand seize his +arm. He turned and looked into Persis' eyes. She welcomed +him as a rescuer, but it was Willie that urged him +to sit with them. Ten Eyck's hesitation was misconstrued +by Persis. She said:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he is—er—not alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I am," Ten Eyck hastened to say. "I'll join +you." And he went with them to an upper box. Even +Ten Eyck felt a little shy.</p> + +<p>Persis and Willie knew what he was thinking, and they +were like a pair of youngsters caught spooning. Only +their misdemeanor was that they had been caught not +spooning. Ten Eyck ventured to speak.</p> + +<p>"So the penance is over already? I thought you two +doves were still on the ark."</p> + +<p>"We are, officially," said Persis.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck wanted to help them out, so he said:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? Did the yacht puncture a tire +or lose a shoe or—"</p> + +<p>Willie attempted to carry along the idea by saying:</p> + +<p>"It was trouble with the sparker." And he did not +understand why Persis blushed and Ten Eyck blurted.</p> + +<p>They were rescued from this personal confusion by +what would have thrown any audience into a panic ten +years before and now was greeted almost with apathy:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> +the appearance of the British peeress in a costume that +was hardly more than Eve wore after the eviction. A +gauzy shift was all she had on, with a few wisps of chiffon +as opaque as cigarette-smoke. Shoulders, arms, and all +of both legs were as bare as her face.</p> + +<p>No policeman interfered, and not a sermon had been +preached against her. Nudity had lost its novelty, and +her posturings and curvetings were regarded with as +academic a calm as if she were a trick pony or an acrobat. +There was much laughter later when a male comedian +burlesqued her, with a bosom composed of two toy balloons, +one of which escaped, and one of which exploded +when he fell on it.</p> + +<p>"I think this age will go down in history as the return +to nature," Ten Eyck said, struggling for some impersonal +topic. "Women in and out of vaudeville have left off +more and more of their concealments, till the only way a +woman can arouse suspicion now is by keeping something +on. And I can't see that we are any worse—or any better. +An onion is an onion, no matter how many skins it has +on or off. We'll see bathing-suits on Fifth Avenue next +season."</p> + +<p>He did not know that the next season was to bring a +sudden revolution and divert women from disclosure to +the covering of their bodies with chaotic fabrics till they +resembled dry-goods counters in disarray.</p> + +<p>Philosophizing did not interest Willie. He came always +back to the individual. By and by he wrestled with silence, +and asked:</p> + +<p>"Er—whatever became of that—er—soldier you +brought up to the farm? Stupid solemn fella—Ward—or +Lord—or something?"</p> + +<p>"Forbes, you mean?" said Ten Eyck, taking pains not +to look at Persis. But he could feel her eager attention +in the sudden check of her fan.</p> + +<p>"That's it—Forbes. Still at Ellis Island—or is it +Ward's?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Governor's," said Ten Eyck. "He's been made military +attaché at the French Embassy. Sailed for Paris +the other day with Senator Tait—and—and Mildred."</p> + +<p>Persis' whole body seemed to clench itself like a hand. +But Willie, everlastingly oblivious to significant things, +driveled on:</p> + +<p>"Paris, eh? Racing season's on over there now. +How'd you like to run across for the Grand Prix, Persis?"</p> + +<p>"Paris is a nice place," said Persis, with a mystic veil +about her voice.</p> + +<p>And now Ten Eyck looked at her. Their eyes met. +His were angry, and hers fell before their prophetic ire. +She stammered a little as she said:</p> + +<p>"I like London better. We could make the Royal Cup +at Ascot if we hurried. My sister could take care of us +in the country."</p> + +<p>But Ten Eyck slapped his knees impatiently, glared at +her, and growled:</p> + +<p>"Bluffer! Good night!"</p> + +<p>And he was gone without shaking hands.</p> + +<p>"What did he mean by bluffer?" said Enslee. "Doesn't +he like your sister?"</p> + +<p>"Apparently not," said Persis. "And he used to be +crazy about her. She threw him overboard for 'Kelly.'"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIII" id="CHAPTER_LIII"></a>CHAPTER LIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WILLIE had arranged for supper at home. As they +left the theater and sped through the streets crowded +with uncharacteristic mobs Persis thought longingly of +the tango-hunts she had indulged in during the past season. +But there was no one to dance with her now. And +she realized that she would be impossibly conspicuous as +a café-hunting bride with a husband who abhorred this +whole chapter in the chronicle of diversion.</p> + +<p>Alone with Willie in the Enslee palace, which Ten Eyck +described as "a sublime junk-shop," Persis was oppressed +to melancholia. The air that came in at the windows had +a mournful breath. The peculiar aversion for the city, +that overtakes New-Yorkers in the late spring seized her +and shook her. The mansions neighborly to theirs were +boarded up now, with only a caretaker's window alight +here and there. There was nobody even to summon by +telephone as a rescuing third party to make a crowd out +of the appallingly tiresome duet with Willie.</p> + +<p>"This town is a cemetery," she exclaimed, as she +quenched her eighth cigarette stump. "Opening a house +here now is like opening a grave in Woodlawn at midnight. +You've got to take me away or leave me in Bloomingdale."</p> + +<p>"What about Paris?" Willie suggested.</p> + +<p>She remembered Ten Eyck's eyes, and said, "Let's +make it London."</p> + +<p>"I'll get what I can to-morrow. You wouldn't like to +cross in the yacht?" he asked, haughtily. "<i>Isolde's</i> all +right in the ugliest weather."</p> + +<p>She shook her head violently, and yawned and spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> +so eloquently of her fatigue that he slunk away to his +own room.</p> + +<p>The next day he set his secretary to work running down +a berth on a steamer. Everything seemed to be gone. +People whom the panicky times had reduced from wealth +to anxiety were crossing the ocean to places where they +could economize without ostentation. The final report +was that the only suitable berth was the imperial suite +on the new <i>Imperator</i>.</p> + +<p>"Did you grab it?" said Willie. The secretary shook +his head.</p> + +<p>"Why the devil didn't you?" Willie snapped.</p> + +<p>"They ask five thousand dollars for it."</p> + +<p>Even Willie winced at this. "I don't want it for a +year," he groaned. "Just one voyage."</p> + +<p>"It has a private deck, a drawing-room, two bath-rooms, +two servants' rooms—"</p> + +<p>The "private deck" decided Willie; but when he told +Persis he laid stress on the price he paid; not from any +braggart motive, but as a pathetic sort of courtship.</p> + +<p>Persis smiled a little. It was something. But when +she found the private deck she took pains to invite other +passengers she knew to make it their own piazza. Among +the passengers were Mrs. Neff and Alice.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>After Persis had thwarted Alice's elopement with Stowe +Webb the boy had been tempted to go to Mrs. Neff and +plead with her to withdraw her ban, seeing that he was +now a man of affairs with an assured income. But he +imagined what she would say when she asked him the +amount of that income; and he imagined her smile. She +did not have to ridicule his fortune. The sum itself was +so petty that it ridiculed itself.</p> + +<p>He and Alice had met clandestinely a few times at the +houses of friends, but both were young and both were +timid, and their friends were cynical with discouragement. +Alice wanted to go to watch him off at the dock, but had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> +not dared, and only sent him a tear-blotted steamer letter. +And while he was down in his state-room reading it she +was locked in her pink-and-white virginal chamber crying +her blue eyes crimson on her bed. She never spoke of +him to her mother, and Mrs. Neff did not know what had +become of him.</p> + +<p>So the two child-lovers pined away. New York became +a deserted village to Alice, and Stowe found the ocean a +congenial waste, for he felt in his breast an Atlantic loneliness. +Nor was Paris less sad; its allurements were only +thorns; he felt that he must be true to his little wife-to-be, +and it seemed that even to indulge in the more innocent +gaieties would belie his desolation.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Neff grew just a trifle too shrewd. Noting +that Alice never spoke of Stowe Webb, she made up her +crafty old mind that the two young wretches were meeting +secretly. Since nothing happened at all, she all too +cleverly decided that something was about to happen, and +resolved to nip the passion-flower in the bud. She read +Alice a long curtain-lecture on the perfection with which +children obeyed their parents when she was young, then +dilated on the advantages of European travel in broadening +the mind, and drew such a glowing portrait of her own +benevolence in offering Alice the opportunity of going +abroad that the girl began to foresee what was coming, +and what real motive was actuating her mother. By the +time Mrs. Neff arrived at the heartbreaking news that +she was about to drag Alice off to Paris the simple child +was able to dissemble her ecstasy and give a convincing +portrayal of a daughter who would rather go anywhere on +earth than to France. Like Br'er Rabbit, she pleaded +not to be thrown into the briar-patch of all places. So +she was thrown into the briar-patch. Alice was on her +way to Paris.</p> + +<p>She took Persis into her confidence, and Persis found +a dreary pleasure in the joke. She even forbore to warn +Alice against the folly of marrying into poverty. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +was not so satisfied with her own triumph as to recommend +her example to others.</p> + +<p>There was, as there will always be, a certain joy in +having the best and the most expensive things of every +sort. But there was, as there will always be, a disappointment +in getting by merely wishing or commanding; +especially as the fairy gift of wishes has always carried +a few amendments: "You may have anything you wish for +except—" Whereupon the "excepts" become the only +things sincerely wishable.</p> + +<p>Persis found London at the height of its June festivity. +The President of France was visiting the King of England, +and there were state banquets and state balls and state +everything, mingled with private celebrations that rivaled +them in pomp; and a horse-show, and horse-races, regimental +polo tournaments; the annual hysterical wholesale +celebration of nothing in particular.</p> + +<p>Many of Persis' school-girl friends were duchesses, +countesses, marchionesses, mere ladies. Lady Crainleigh, +whom Persis had once beaten in a potato-race at a +country horse-show in Westchester, gave a dance where +seven hundred guests were present and where titles were +as common as pebbles on a shore. Persis wore her "all-around" +diamond crown, and danced with a Russian +grand-duke and a prince or two.</p> + +<p>The tango and the turkey-trot had spread overseas, +and royalties trod on Persis' toes as they bungled the steps +like yokels. It was fantastic to hear the trashy tunes of +American music-halls resounding through the ballrooms +of mansions and palatial hotels.</p> + +<p>At the Royal Ascot the Queen sent a duke to fetch +Persis to the royal box, and spoke amiably of her sister.</p> + +<p>But, however Persis glittered abroad, when the inevitable +time came to become mere woman and go to +bed, she must always return to the nagging presence of +Willie, infatuated the more by the inaccessible distances +her soul kept from his.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> + +<p>With his harrowed face, his unwelcome caresses, his +unanswerable prayers for a little love, he ceased to be +tragic. He became a pest.</p> + +<p>Persis was learning wherein wealth, as well as poverty, +has its poverties, its nauseas, its petty annoyances, its +daily denials, its hair-cloth shirts.</p> + +<p>She began to feel that if she had married Forbes and +made her own clothes she could not have grown wearier +than she grew from putting on and taking off the complicated +harnesses devised by intoxicated dressmakers.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she declared that she would rather trim one +bonnet and wear it the rest of her life than try on any +more of the works of the mad hatters of Europe.</p> + +<p>And what mockery her splendor was!—for the ulterior +purpose of gorgeousness is love. Humanity has stretched +its mating season throughout the whole year, but the +meaning of bright plumage remains an invitation to courtship, +a more or less disguised advertisement: "Behold, +I am ready. I am desirable!"</p> + +<p>Persis was dressing herself up for yesterday's party. +Men courted her still, slyly and disgustingly, but she felt +herself insulted by the adventure, degraded by the implications. +Whatever other faults she had, Persis was not +promiscuous. There was nothing of the female rake in her +nature. She was meant to be loved by many and to love +one. Her heart had selected its one among the ones; but +the hand had married elsewhere. There was great danger +for her soul if she did not meet that One. And greater +danger if she did.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIV" id="CHAPTER_LIV"></a>CHAPTER LIV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PARIS and London were like two rival circuses bidding +for the public, beating tom-toms, blowing horns, +and sending out band-wagons and parades. While Persis +was wearying of the English side-shows, Forbes was tiring +of the French. The wounds Persis had inflicted on his +heart and his pride were still fresh and bleeding. The +fever had not left him. At the thought of her, or the sight +of her name frequently in the daily papers, or her portrait +in the illustrated papers, the scarlet shame of his defeat +still ran across his brow, still the hunger for her gripped +him, regret sickened him.</p> + +<p>Senator Tait had not enjoyed the progress of his conspiracy. +For secretary he had taken Stowe Webb, who +moved about like an immature Hamlet with a heart +draped in black. For military attaché he had brought +Forbes, whose thoughts flew backward to the past instead +of scouting ahead. For acting ambassadress he +had brought a daughter who, though torn away from +her New York charities, found new miseries to engage +her everywhere. Even on the ship she had sought distress—in +the stokehold, in the steerage and the second +cabin. Instead of holding hands in moonlit nooks and +funnel-corners, she was taking up purses, sterilizing milk +for sick babies, and selling tickets for a benefit concert.</p> + +<p>Forbes admired Mildred profoundly, but he preferred his +own sorrows to the woes she discovered in other people. +Mildred liked Forbes immensely, in a motherly, elder-sisterly, +trained-nursish way. But of love between them +there was no visible trace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tait grew fonder and fonder of Forbes as a son, but he +could not contrive him as a son-in-law. The mating of +human hearts, he found, was a task beyond diplomacy or +politics. He wondered if he would have more success in +promoting affection between America and France, the +two republics that made each other possible. He wished +that he had never undertaken any of his tasks. He felt +old, ill, tired. He had agreed to take over the Embassy +on the fifth of July. Hardly more than a week remained +of his freedom, and that week was the big week of the +year—the <i>grande semaine</i>.</p> + +<p>He did not know that other dangers lurked in ambush +ahead of himself. Mrs. Neff, ignorant of Stowe Webb's +office, had come straight to Paris from the <i>Imperator</i>, +bound to expose Alice again to the Senator's inspection. +More dangerous yet was Winifred Mather. Tait had +been warned of Mrs. Neff, but not of Winifred.</p> + +<p>The heavy times in Wall Street had played havoc with +Bob Fielding's means and with his spirits. The gradual +jolting down and down of values, and the buying public's +desertion of the market left the Stock Exchange like a neglected +billiard parlor, where in the absence of customers +the professionals played against one another—for points.</p> + +<p>Bob Fielding was so big that when he was happy he +was a Falstaff, but when he was unhappy he was a whale +ashore. Winifred liked him happy. She grew weary of +her blue Behemoth and began to think again of Senator +Tait. She reasoned that he really needed a wife; it was +a handicap to the Embassy to have only an elder daughter +to run its social branch, especially such a daughter as +Mildred, with her exasperating to-morrow's virtues and +her last year's clothes. Winifred felt it her patriotic duty +to marry the Embassy over.</p> + +<p>She had a widowed sister in Paris, Mrs. Mather Edgecumbe. +With her as complotter and under her ægis +Winifred attacked Senator Tait in a campaign so skilfully +arranged under so many disguises that Tait was left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +hardly a minute to himself. All his invitations included +Forbes and Mildred and young Stowe Webb.</p> + +<p>At one of them, a night fête in Mrs. Mather Edgecumbe's +house in the Rue de Monceau, with musicians in Persian +costume playing in the garden under the illuminated +trees, Mrs. Neff and Alice were included unbeknown to +Winifred. She was aghast at the tactical mistake, and +she was curt enough when Alice, hastening as usual in +one direction and looking in another, ran into her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you Alice. How are you? I didn't know you +were in Paris. Followed the Senator over, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Alice. "Did you?"</p> + +<p>"Where's your mother?"</p> + +<p>"She's probably looking for me. I hope she doesn't +find me. Have you seen Stowe?"</p> + +<p>"Somewhere," said Winifred, with a perceptible thaw. +"Does your mother know he's here?"</p> + +<p>"If she did, should I be here?" Alice giggled, and laughter +bubbled from Winifred, too. It continued with increase +as Alice went on: "The Senator and I have come to a +perfect understanding. He knows I don't love him, and +that I do love Stowe. He gave Stowe his job as a starter +to get me with. Yes, he did! My awful mother, of course, +is always conspiring to leave the Senator alone with me. +Sends us driving and Louvre-ing together. Well, that +angel man, the Senator, just waits till mama is safely +out of sight, then he notifies Stowe and goes away about +his business and leaves us together."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then the Senator's devotion for you is all for +Stowe's sweet sake?" and there was a rapturous little +break in Winifred's voice.</p> + +<p>"Of course. Isn't he an angel?"</p> + +<p>"He is, indeed!" said Winifred, with a sigh of relief so +deep that Alice stared at her in surprise and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Why, do you really want him?"</p> + +<p>Winifred bridled as proudly as she could, but Alice +only gasped: "Heavens! here comes that awful mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> +of mine. Don't give me away!" And she fled from tree +to tree.</p> + +<p>There was small risk that Winifred would violate the +secret left with her, and she greeted Mrs. Neff with an +unprecedented smile when she swept into the arbor and +found there the last person on earth she would have +wished to see.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Winifred Mather!" was her undeniable +affirmation. "So you are in Paris!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear. Did you bring dear Alice to Paris with +you?"</p> + +<p>"I was just going to ask if you had seen her."</p> + +<p>Winifred lied with the glibness of long training:</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. But I'd love to. Let's look for her."</p> + +<p>And she took Mrs. Neff's sharp elbow in her fat hand, +and led her in the wrong direction. A moment later +she whirled her away from an alley of roses where Stowe +Webb was blundering along in such eager search of Alice +that he would have walked into her mother but for +Winifred's alertness as a chauffeuse.</p> + +<p>"She's here somewhere," Mrs. Neff was saying as her +eyes ransacked the glittering crowd. "I snatched her +away from America to keep her from the possibility of +meeting that young Webb."</p> + +<p>"What a very clever idea!" said Winifred, and she began +to laugh so helplessly that Mrs. Neff grew suspicious. +But having no clue to work on, she changed the subject:</p> + +<p>"Persis and Willie are here, I see."</p> + +<p>"Are they? I telegraphed the dear girl an invitation, +but I was afraid she was stuck in London."</p> + +<p>"She came over for the <i>Prix des Drags</i> to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"How does the poor child look after—after honeymooning +with Willie; Heaven help her!—and him!"</p> + +<p>"She looks—oh, of course, she's still our dear beautiful +Persis, but Willie, of course, is the same dear little dam-phool. +Alice's maid, the Irish one, said Persis looked +like her heart was dead in her, the creature. She had it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +from his man that Willie and she get along like the +monkey and the parrot. But, of course, one can't listen +to servants."</p> + +<p>"No, of course not; though God knows what we'd do +for news without 'em."</p> + +<p>As they entered the house Mrs. Neff saw Forbes. He +was in his military full dress, and he was standing alone +in a reverie. He was as solitary in the crowd as if he +were a statue on a battle-field gazing through eyes of +bronze.</p> + +<p>"There's our little snojer man," said Winifred.</p> + +<p>"So it is," said Mrs. Neff, struggling toward him through +a sort of panic of complexly moving groups. "How is the +dear boy? Paris has swept him off his feet, eh?"</p> + +<p>"He's the melancholiest man here—the ghost of the +boulevards."</p> + +<p>"It's too bad," said Mrs. Neff. "He was the man for +Persis." She reached his side, took his hand, and laughed +up into his face. He came out of a dream and stared +at her foggily, then answered the warm clench of her +little fingers. She said:</p> + +<p>"And what are you staring at so hard?—Mrs. Enslee?"</p> + +<p>He started at the name—"Mrs. Enslee?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Persis. You haven't forgotten her so soon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, of course not. But she isn't here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, she is, with her brand-new husband."</p> + +<p>"Really," he said, trying to sound casual, though the +warning of her nearness frightened him and put his +heart to its paces.</p> + +<p>"I'll never forgive you for not marrying her after you +flirted with her so dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"Did I?" he laughed, wretchedly. "And you say she's +in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"She's right behind you."</p> + +<p>Forbes felt as a man feels when some one says, +"There's a rattlesnake just back of you." He became an +automaton of wax and turned slowly as on a creaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +pivot. Yes, there she was. Persis had just come in with +her husband. The news, and the presence of the man +at her side, sent a shudder through Forbes. The Enslees +had happened upon Ambassador Tait, and Forbes could +see that the old man was struggling hard to be decently +polite to them.</p> + +<p>Persis caught sight of Forbes, and her beautiful brows +went up as she smiled. He had an intuition that her +look was an appeal for mercy. Then she moved on with +Willie, to lay off her cloak.</p> + +<p>Tait, glancing about, saw Forbes and came to him at +once. Mrs. Neff, seeing him, forgot the study she was +making of Forbes' emotions. She demanded of Tait: +"Have you seen Alice? I hoped she was with you."</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't seen her to-night," he answered guilelessly, +forgetting his rôle in his excitement.</p> + +<p>"Then I must look for her. Come along, Winifred. +I can't run about alone."</p> + +<p>Winifred did not want to come along, but Mrs. Neff +did not intend to leave the Senator in her clutches. She +ran her arm through Winifred's and dragged her away.</p> + +<p>Then Tait took Forbes by the arm and spoke with a +curious sick thickness: "Let's get out into the air a +minute."</p> + +<p>Forbes was alarmed by his tone and by the prominence +of the veins about his forehead and throat. They walked +into the garden filled with soft lantern lights like luminous +flowers, the moon over all and the strangely zestful air +of Paris like an intoxicant. The orchestra in the garden +was just finishing a tune, and the orchestra in the house +was just beginning an American tango played with a +marked French accent. They found a marble seat in a +green niche where it was yet too early for flirts to be found.</p> + +<p>"Well, Harvey, she's here—that damned woman—and +her toy husband."</p> + +<p>Forbes smarted under the hatred the man he loved +bore for the woman he loved, and when the Ambassador,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +trying to be cheerful, spoke hopefully, "But, then, that +flame has smoldered out, hasn't it?" Forbes only sighed:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think so—I hope so!"</p> + +<p>"What's this? What's this?" Tait gasped. "Are you +still at her mercy—<i>her</i> mercy?"</p> + +<p>Forbes made a gesture of distress: "I don't know! The +thought of her has never left me. The sight of her again +hurts like the bullet I got in that first brush with the +Spanish. And she doesn't look happy. There was a +shadow over her."</p> + +<p>"There ought to be," Tait grumbled. "She's a cold-blooded, +mercenary, calculating—"</p> + +<p>"Don't!" Forbes pleaded, but the old man raged on.</p> + +<p>"She sold herself to a man she didn't love. She's to +blame for—"</p> + +<p>"The older I grow," Forbes interposed, "the less I feel +that people deserve either blame or praise for being what +they are or doing what they do."</p> + +<p>"Don't waste your pity on her; she had none for +you."</p> + +<p>"It's not pity—it's—"</p> + +<p>Tait clapped his hand to his left side and choked back +a cry of distress. Forbes turned to him with an exclamation +of alarm. "You ought to see your doctor."</p> + +<p>Tait shook his head: "No, he'd only swear at me for +disobeying him. I'm all right—if I can only avoid any +excitement. Been going a little too hard. It's that +damned dilated heart of mine. The doctor said I ought +to be in bed to-night."</p> + +<p>"Why did you come here then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, young Webb was afraid that Alice's mother would +drag her home if she knew I was not about. But I'm a +fool. This life is killing me. I ought to run down to +Vichy or Evian for a few days."</p> + +<p>"Yes; you mustn't delay any further."</p> + +<p>"I'll go if you'll come with me, Harvey. For one thing, +it will get you away from that woman."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no danger from her," said Forbes. "She's +married now."</p> + +<p>Tait shrugged his shoulders: "That's when a woman is +most dangerous. Young girls tied to their mother's apron-strings +are risky enough, the Lord knows, but when a +woman unhappily married meets an old lover who is still +unmarried—humph, the weather doesn't last long as a +topic of conversation. You come along with me."</p> + +<p>Forbes felt doubly humiliated by his position. "I +don't like the idea of running away from a woman."</p> + +<p>"You're good enough soldier to know that there are +times when it is cowardly not to run away. Do we go +to Evian-les-Bains?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. To-morrow, if you wish."</p> + +<p>"Good! And I want you to promise not to see that +woman at all to-night. There are a lot of sharp eyes about, +and the gossips can work up a big trade on a very small +capital. Will you promise?"</p> + +<p>"You are needlessly worried."</p> + +<p>"Harvey, I never believed in playing with fire. I haven't +asked you many favors. Will you grant me this one?"</p> + +<p>Forbes was almost filial in his obedience: "Why, of +course I promise not to meet her if I can avoid it."</p> + +<p>"Good!" Tait rose to his feet with some difficulty. He +was weak and shaken with premonitions. When a man's +heart races and misses fire he is filled with dismay. He +paused to lay his hands on Forbes' shoulders and plead +as if for forgiveness for his solicitude. "Harvey, you may +think I'm an old fool, but if you didn't run away from +this danger, in after years you might have been sorry +that you didn't."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Forbes. "God bless you, I appreciate +it. I shall always be grateful for all you've done for +me."</p> + +<p>"I've done nothing but make a crutch of you, used you +to fill the place of my own boy. If only you could—but +we won't talk of her. But if anything happens to me—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing is going to happen to you."</p> + +<p>"I know that, but if anything should, I—I want you +to promise to take care of Mildred. She'll have money +enough—and so will you. I've fixed that—but—she'll +need somebody to—well, we'll talk it over at Evian. Let's +go, home."</p> + +<p>He moved on, leaning heavily on Forbes, but Winifred, +seeing him about to escape, pounced on him and led him +away in search of an imaginary diplomat.</p> + +<p>Forbes, left alone, sank again on the marble bench, a +prey to his thoughts. He felt that if he waited in this +semi-obscurity he would not be discovered by Persis.</p> + +<p>But she was hunting for him. She had eluded Willie, +and appeared in the garden just as the Ambassador was +being haled away. She paused to wait for Forbes to be +alone, and at that moment her husband regained her side; +she heard his voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LV" id="CHAPTER_LV"></a>CHAPTER LV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">"I SAY, Persis, I lost track of you in that ghastly +mob. I'm sorry. By the way, wasn't that tall +fella in the uniform the same Lieutenant What's-his-name +that was honeying around Mrs. Neff?"</p> + +<p>Persis was in too fierce a mood to continue that nonsense. +She turned on Willie as a she-wolf turns on a +terrier at her heels:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! Can't I escape you for a moment? Do +go somewhere and smoke something. Or if the worst +comes to the worst, drink something; but don't stand there +making green eyes at me like an ape."</p> + +<p>"Green eyes like an ape!" he echoed, stupidly. "Well, +I'll be—" Then an unusual vigor of wrath stirred him. +"Look here, Persis, I won't have you make fun of me. +Everybody else laughs at me, even for winning you. They +think you've made a fool of me, and they think you +couldn't have married me except for my money. I don't +suppose it could be love—nobody ever did love me. +But whatever it was that made you marry me, you did +marry me, and, by gad, you've got to remember it."</p> + +<p>"There's no danger of my forgetting that," Persis +snapped, frantic lest Forbes escape her. "Don't be +odious! Don't make me hate you."</p> + +<p>Willie grew the more fierce. "Well, I'd rather have +you hate me than make a fool of me. I won't be laughed +at—I won't."</p> + +<p>Persis groaned with repugnance: "Oh, you've ceased +to be a laughing matter to me, Willie."</p> + +<p>Willie was about to reply in kind, but he gave her a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +long look and, seeing how beautiful she was, grew more +tender. "Everything seems to have ceased to be a laughing +matter to you, Persis. What has come over you? +Before we were married you were always laughing—at +everything, everybody. I used to love to watch you. +Even when you guyed me I didn't much mind—because +there was fun in it. I used to say I'd give everything I +possessed just to have you about, and see the world +through your eyes. But from the time we were married +you quit laughing. Hang it all, I married you to cheer +me up a bit. What in Heaven's name has changed you?"</p> + +<p>Before this weakness she relented a little. "Oh, nothing +has changed me. Don't worry about me. I'm just a +trifle bored with life."</p> + +<p>"I've bought you everything you asked for, haven't I?" +he asked. "Gad, your dressmaker's bills were enough. +But the minute a gown came home you sickened of it. +You tired of the theater, of the opera, of dancing. When +I took you to the Royal Ascot you yawned as the horses +came down the stretch. I bought you three new automobiles, +and when we came down from Dieppe to Paris at +a million miles an hour the pace scared me cold, but you—you +went to sleep."</p> + +<p>"It was soothing," she smiled.</p> + +<p>"Soothing? Gad! do you want a bally flying-machine?"</p> + +<p>"If it could take me to another planet."</p> + +<p>Never dreaming how eager she was to be rid of him, +he tried to please her in every manner save the one sure +method of going away. He grew desperate: "Isn't +there anything you want that money can buy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything that money can buy," was her +dreary confession. Somehow he seemed at last to understand.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're just tired of me," he sighed—"everlasting +me. I must be a nuisance to you. Lord knows +I am to myself!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him with suddenly gentler eyes. In con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span>temning +himself he was commending himself. The best +approach to a human tribunal, as to a divine, is a humble +and a contrite heart. She put out her hand to him, but +he did not see it; he set off to find some one to lead him +to a Scotch highball. And Persis, now that she was rid +of him, was free to glide forward to the marble bench, +where she could see Forbes half concealed in a grotto of +shadow and a mood of gloom.</p> + +<p>The thought of what she was about to do gave her pause. +She realized the atrocity of attempting to keep Forbes +in mind when she had taken such solemn vows so publicly. +She must be kinder to Willie. She tried to dismiss her +conscience by telling herself that it would be childish to +run away from Forbes. She caught sight of Mrs. Neff +hovering about with the recaptured Alice. She dreaded +what interpretation Mrs. Neff would put upon her appearance +in the environs of Forbes. She remembered with +what fierce criticism she had always met the slightest +indiscretions of other married women.</p> + +<p>A wife's progress must be along a tight wire, and she +must walk it exactly. The least step aside attracts +attention and invites disaster like the inaccuracy of a +Blondel crossing Niagara and carrying a man on his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>Persis hesitated, breathing hard with enormous excitement +over so small a matter. While she hesitated an +Italian duke who had been a little too gracious in London +approached her like an erect cobra. Her skin crawled at +his manner. Yet he had no worse motive than she was +dallying with.</p> + +<p>Before she could exquisitely make it clear to him that +with all due deference she despised him, she saw Senator +Tait hurrying toward Forbes, greeting hastily those who +stopped him and thredding the increasingly mucilaginous +crowd till he reached Forbes' side. Then the two men +made their way out beyond the intervening mass.</p> + +<p>Persis went back into the house and danced with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> +Italian duke what he called "<i>il trotto alla turca</i>." She was +so distraite that she never knew how well he made love +and how badly he danced.</p> + +<p>Later she happened upon the surreptitious Stowe Webb, +and learned that Senator Tait and Forbes were leaving +Paris in the morning to take the waters somewhere—Vichy, +Carlsbad, Marienbad, or Matlock; he was not +sure where.</p> + +<p>Now Persis regretted her hesitation. She had wasted a +precious opportunity to warm her chilled soul with a word +from the beloved lips and a look from the eyes and a +pressure of the hand that were dearer than any other in +the world to her.</p> + +<p>She was amazed at her own ability to suffer so much +from the loss of so little. She felt an impulse to be alone +with her anguish, to huddle over the hearth where the +ashes could at least remind her of how warm and cozy +she once had been.</p> + +<p>She sent for Willie, and he came with a slight elevation +of manner which showed that he had found some one to +arrange him at least one Scotch-and-soda.</p> + +<p>He was demonstrative in the car and very affectionate +in the elevator at the Hôtel Meurice, where they were +stopping. This did not endear him to Persis.</p> + +<p>His man exchanged a glance with her maid as they +peeled off their wraps. When man and maid had been +sent to bed Willie came shuffling into Persis' dressing-room +where she sat staring at her doleful beauty in the +mirror. He saw how listless she was, and was awkwardly +eager to cheer her up. He could not have depressed her +more than by trying to cheer her up. Even he realized +his failure eventually and yawned sonorously:</p> + +<p>"We're married, and I suppose we've got to stay married—for +a while, at least. But I hate to see you unhappy. +It's an awful slam on me to have you so blue before the +honeymoon is really begun."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry any more, Willie," she said, gently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> +"I suppose I'm just like a child on Christmas afternoon. +I always used to get blue after I'd looked over all the +presents and broken most of my toys—and grown tired +of the others—and eaten too much candy. And I thought, +'So this is the Christmas I've waited for the whole year +long! It doesn't amount to much. I've had all that money +can buy—and—and I'm too tired to sleep.'"</p> + +<p>"I used to feel like that, too," he said. "And I remember +that I usually turned back to some cheap old toy; +usually it was a little lead soldier—my first love."</p> + +<p>"First love!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>He tried to shake off gloom as a wet spaniel shakes off +water.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Persis, buck up! Don't feel like this. +You're so beautiful; you're simply ripping to-night." +He laid his hand on her bare arm. She started at his +touch and before she realized it gasped, "Please don't +paw me."</p> + +<p>He stared at her, aghast: "Do you hate me as much +as that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't hate you, Willie! It's myself I hate," +Persis cried. "You mustn't mind me; I'm just a little +blue and lonely."</p> + +<p>He laughed gruesomely. "Bride and groom together +on honeymoon, and both terribly lonely! Gad! I wonder +if other married couples come to feel this way when +the honeymoon turns to green cheese. And do they just +bluff it through? It reminds me of that chap in Hogarth's +<i>Mariage à la Mode</i>, where the wife is yawning and the +husband is sunk back in his chair in a dismal stupor. +Only he was drunk—I think I'll get drunk."</p> + +<p>He stumbled out to find his usual nepenthe. When he +came back her door was locked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVI" id="CHAPTER_LVI"></a>CHAPTER LVI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS sat in grim communion with her image for +hours. She faintly heard her husband's tapping on +her door, and calling through it at intervals in thicker and +thicker speech. But it was like a far-off rumor from a +street. She was in session with herself.</p> + +<p>She took her boudoir cap from her hair, and sat in the +cascade of it peering through as from a cavern, and smoking +always. She was smoking much too much, but she +felt a companionship in tobacco. As she held the cap in +her hand she thought of Forbes; and the remembrance +was so joyous that she vowed to brave the world to get +back to him.</p> + +<p>But she pondered what the world would say of her, +how it had dealt with the others that had openly defied +it, and she was afraid. Then she vowed that she would +take her love secretly and cleverly. She would hunt for +Forbes till she met him and regained him.</p> + +<p>Then she pictured how he would look at her when he +understood. She imagined him starting back from her as +from something abhorrent. She threw a cigarette-stub +at her face in the mirror and gasped: "Pagh!" She could +endure anything better than such cheapening of herself +in Forbes' eyes. And after a while she began to think of +her self-respect. She had only herself. She must keep +that self precious.</p> + +<p>Worn out at last with her silent war, she bent her head +on her crossed hands and fell asleep among the fripperies +of her dressing-table. These temptations in the wilderness +come to people in various places. This tired butterfly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> +fought with evil and won the duel in a boudoir in a fashionable +hotel in Paris.</p> + +<p>Hours later she woke in broad daylight and crept to +bed with tingling arms and aching forehead. She did not +wake again till noon. Nichette had tiptoed about her +like a sentinel and had kept Willie at a distance. He +discharged her a dozen times, but she simply shrugged and +sniffed and answered him in French too rapid for him to +follow or reply to.</p> + +<p>When at last Persis sat up with her coffee and crescents +on her knees, Nichette read to her the news in the French +columns of the Paris <i>Herald</i>. She learned that Ambassador-elect +Tait and his entourage had gone to Evian-les-Bains.</p> + +<p>Willie came in with new plans for Persis' diversion. +He suggested a visit to Switzerland and Lake Geneva. +She would have liked to go to the mountains. There was +something heroic in them. But Evian was closely adjacent +to Switzerland. She nobly suggested Norway and Sweden. +The thought of fjords and midnight suns and things was +also heroic.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile she must make haste to dress for the +<i>Prix des Drags</i>, and she took some interest in the choice +of a gown sufficiently striking to insure success in the +fierce rivalry of that great costume race.</p> + +<p>Everybody said that the world had not seen such +undressing in public since the Grecian revival at the time +of the Directoire. Persis was not the least astounding +figure there. She felt that, after a deed of such sacrifice +as she had achieved in forswearing love, she had earned +an extra license in her draperies. Willie raised a tempest +about her gown, but she felt that she had done enough +for him. She was suffering that morning-after sullenness +which follows unusual indulgences in virtue as well as +other excesses.</p> + +<p>Life once more was a tango. She shifted from costume +to costume like a dressmaker's model. She went the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +rounds of <i>thés dansants</i>, and musicales, and embassies, +town houses, hotels, and châteaux, watering-places, and +mountains, lakes, and seas. But she kept away from +Switzerland till she read that Ambassador Tait was at +his desk in Paris; and then she avoided Paris and went +to Trouville.</p> + +<p>And so the days totaled into weeks, and the weeks became +a month, two, three, six. She fled from boredom +to boredom. She skimmed the cream of life and whipped +it, and it turned sour. Though her abiding-places were all +oases and her tents were of silk, she led only a Bedouin +existence. After all, she and Willie were but tramps—velvet-clad +hoboes. Variety became monotony, luxury an +oppression, contentment a will-o'-the-wisp.</p> + +<p>She went to America and found that loveless contentment +was not among the Yankee inventions. She went +back to Europe, and it was not among the Parisian devices. +There was everything for sale on the Rue de la Paix +except peace. She had not come to Paris purposely to +find Harvey Forbes, but she had sickened of being good, +and she had grown nauseated with denying her heart. If +fate willed that their communion should be renewed she +would no longer tamper with destiny.</p> + +<p>She wondered if time had cured Forbes' love. She +wondered if he cared for some one else—Mildred Tait, +for instance, or some Parisian witch. At the mere thought +her heart beat like the wings of a wounded bird, and she +knew that she loved him and always would love him.</p> + +<p>Half a year of Willie's tempers and whinings, his indigestions +and colds, and his diminishing patience with her +whims, his growing habit of complaining of her extravagances, +his quarrels with their servants, with every waiter, +every messenger-boy, and hotel-keeper, had worn out +even her courtesy. They quarreled shamelessly in private, +and with less and less caution in public.</p> + +<p>And now she was beginning to feel that she earned all +she got, and was paying usury on her money, and being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> +badly treated in the bargain. She was arriving at that +sick frame of mind that makes cashiers and statesmen +and married people unfaithful to their trusts.</p> + +<p>This was her humor when she met Forbes again. She +had tried in various ways to gain invitations to affairs of +the Embassy. But Tait wasted no diplomacy on cutting +out the Enslees. He was the more brutal about this since +he felt that he was guarding his daughter's welfare.</p> + +<p>Mildred had made herself dear to the more earnest +elements of Paris. She had grown somewhat less of a joke +to the more frivolous. The entertainments at the Embassy +were not quite so Puritanical now, and her costumes +had amazingly improved since her father had put her +under the direct control of a tyrannical dressmaker of +world-wide fame.</p> + +<p>Whether she were growing to be merely a habit with +Forbes or not, they were more and more together. They +fought bitterly on the question of war, which she considered +an unmitigated horror and he believed to be the +loftiest form of tragedy. But the whetting of mind on +mind was producing sparks, and Tait hoped that some +day one of them would set their two hearts on fire.</p> + +<p>He was preparing for that day by making Forbes less +poor. His post kept him from taking advantage of the +financial secrets he stumbled on. But when he put Mildred +in the hands of a dressmaker he gave the financial +destinies of Forbes to a retired capitalist, who juggled +Forbes' five hundred dollars into a thousand in a pair +of weeks; and that thousand into three. Then he encouraged +Forbes to borrow, indorsed his notes and speculated +with the proceeds pyramidally. He was enjoying it as +a form of chess. At the end of half a year Forbes was +talking as much of the Bourse and Argentines as he was +of projectiles and trajectories.</p> + +<p>Having assured Forbes of enough money in bank to +give him a salubrious self-confidence, Tait dropped hints +of a certain clause in his will and sat back to watch the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> +result. He was counting on receiving as his Christmas +gift the news that Forbes and Mildred were to be married, +and he was polishing up a joke about giving them inside +rates on the consular fees for that complicated ceremony.</p> + +<p>And then the Enslees came to Paris in an unusual +snow-storm, and winter set in about the old man's overworked, +undermined heart. He did his best to keep +Persis and Forbes apart; but when were the old ever +vigilant enough to thwart the young?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVII" id="CHAPTER_LVII"></a>CHAPTER LVII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">ONE day Mrs. Mather Edgecumbe found the Enslees +shivering like a pair of waifs in a restaurant famous +for its cuisine and infamous for its heating arrangements. +She asked them if they were coming to the <i>thé dansant</i> she +was giving at her home that afternoon. They had forgotten +all about it, and Persis pleaded an engagement with +her doctor. Mrs. Edgecumbe was "so sorry. There +would be hardly any Americans there, then, except the +old faithful Ambassador and Captain Forbes."</p> + +<p>Persis' heart warmed instantly, but she said she was +afraid that she had some other engagement booked; in +any case, they might drop in for a minute. She shivered +with exultance and blamed it on the chill.</p> + +<p>When five o'clock came round Persis carelessly remembered +the half-promise to Mrs. Mather Edgecumbe. Willie +was out of humor. Persis angelically urged him to stay +in his room and nurse his cold. Her unusual thought for +his welfare startled him. It delighted him. He decided +to stay by her and get more of the tenderness she was +lavishing to-day. She could not shake him loose.</p> + +<p>The <i>thé dansant</i> was a failure in Mrs. Mather Edgecumbe's +mind, and in her sister Winifred's heart, for the +storm kept most of the Parisians away, and the Ambassador +sent word by Forbes that he would be tardy if he +came at all. He pleaded motives of state. But he sent +Forbes with his apologies.</p> + +<p>Forbes, having been on a visit in his official capacity, +was again in uniform. His eyes and cheeks were aglow +from the cold, and Persis watched him with adoration as +he came nearer and nearer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span></p> + +<p>He did not see her, even when he paused to talk to Mrs. +Edgecumbe, so close to Persis that she could have touched +him. And when she could not endure the delay any +longer, she thrust her hand beneath his eyes, and murmured: +"Captain Forbes doesn't remember me, but I +met him in New York ages ago."</p> + +<p>Her voice, suddenly leaping out of the grave of memory, +terrified him. He whirled so quickly that his sword +caught in her gown. He knelt to disengage it, and there +was laughter over the confusion, and then Mrs. Edgecumbe +was called away by a new-comer, and they were left +together.</p> + +<p>Persis beamed upon the complete disarray of all his +faculties, and spoke with affected raillery, though her own +mind was in a seethe.</p> + +<p>"At last we meet again! And how magnificent we are +in our gorgeous uniform! It's only the second time I've +seen you in it. And I believe we are no longer plain +Mr. Forbes—but Captain! Captain Harvey Forbes, +U. S. A.! And they say we are rich now. What a pity +I didn't wait a little!"</p> + +<p>Forbes was hurt at her flippancy. He smiled dismally, +and she purred on: "I assure you your title and your +wealth are vastly becoming; almost as becoming as all +these buttons and epaulettes and things." She walked +around him, looking him over like an inspecting officer. +"Um-m! How very nice! Magnificent!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg of you—" Forbes protested, tortured with +chagrin.</p> + +<p>But she went on, "And a sword, too!" She ventured +even to pull the blade a little way from its +scabbard. He would have killed a man for doing that, +and he almost wanted to kill Persis as she tantalized him +with a strange mixture of ridicule and idolatry. "I've +no doubt the boulevards are strewn with the broken +hearts of Frenchwomen. Who could resist you? I'm +sure my own heart isn't anywhere near healed. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> +very cruel of you, Harvey, to throw me over and run +away after you had stolen my poor young affections."</p> + +<p>Forbes was distraught; he groaned, "I see you've not +forgotten how to make fun of me."</p> + +<p>But Persis went on in mock petulance: "It wasn't +at all nice of you to cast me off just because I married +Willie."</p> + +<p>This gave Forbes a chance to return her ridicule and +he asked, "By the way, how is your excellent husband?"</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself. There he is, still unable +to learn the tango and trying to teach it to a fat Marquise."</p> + +<p>Forbes attempted that most uncivil of tones to a +woman, the ironical: "I hear that you and Mr. Enslee +are the most devoted of couples."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a silly custom that married people should +pretend to be congenial during their honeymoon," Persis +said. "Thank heaven, my initiation is almost over."</p> + +<p>Forbes was genuinely horrified at such dealing with a +subject so sacred as marriage; he forsook irony for his +usual forthright utterance:</p> + +<p>"Surely your—your husband doesn't neglect you?"</p> + +<p>There was a touch of quick anxiety in Forbes' tone +that showed how deeply he still cherished her.</p> + +<p>"Neglect me?" Persis quoted. "If he only would! +Willie does tag after me even more than I could wish; +but he is growing restless. I can usually escape him by +staying at home. He's doing the music-halls very +thoroughly. If I can only suggest some very shocking +<i>revue</i> I am assured of an evening alone. He is going to +one over on Montmartre to-morrow night. I shall be +quite deserted. We are stopping at the Hotel Meurice."</p> + +<p>There was so dire a meaning in her hint and so much +danger in playing again with the fire whose scar he still +bore that Forbes ceased fencing and slashed: "Why do +you torment me? You refused my love once."</p> + +<p>"Never your love, my dear boy," said Persis, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> +abrupt seriousness. "I never refused your love—only +your hand. I always encouraged your love."</p> + +<p>"But I was poor," Forbes sneered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you were poor," Persis said, taking his own word +and turning it against him, "and I knew less than I do +now." She walked away to a niche beside a statue where +they could talk without being overheard, but, being visible, +were chaperoned by the crowd. She sank upon a settle +of gold and old rose and motioned him to her side. Then, +while her face and her fan proclaimed that their conversation +was of the idlest, her voice was deep with elegy:</p> + +<p>"Harvey, try to be just. If you had been rich—oh! +if you had been rich!—then, as you are now, Harvey, +then I could have believed that such a thing as a love-match +is feasible."</p> + +<p>"But I was poor!" Forbes reiterated, with a knell-like +persistence.</p> + +<p>"That was Fate's fault, not mine," said Persis, in all +solemnity. "But haven't I been honest with you? You +declared that you loved me; I confessed that I loved +you."</p> + +<p>"Was it honest, then, not to give me your heart?"</p> + +<p>"My whole heart has always been yours for the asking—and +still is."</p> + +<p>Forbes recoiled with a sudden: "What are you saying? +You have a husband now!"</p> + +<p>"What does that prove?" was Persis' grim reply. +"I don't owe him anything in the inside of my heart. He +didn't buy that, thank God! Before the world, I owe him +everything, and I should be the first to abhor any open +indiscretion, for my ten commandments are condensed to +two: 'Don't be indiscreet!' and 'Beware of what people +will say!' What more could a husband ask?"</p> + +<p>Forbes tossed his hands in despair. He gave her up. +She and her creed were beyond his understanding. "A +fine code, that!"</p> + +<p>"It is the morality of half the world, Harvey, rich or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> +poor, city or country," Persis declared. "The crime +consists in being found out."</p> + +<p>"Do you realize what you are saying?" Forbes demanded, +eager to shield her from her own blasphemies. +But she ran on unheedingly.</p> + +<p>"Even I have a heart; and why should I play the +hypocrite before you of all men? Before Willie Enslee? +Yes; he is my husband. Before the gossipy world? +Yes; it is the one duty I feel I owe that man. Ours was +no marriage for love."</p> + +<p>"But it was a marriage," Forbes urged, stoutly, and +rose to escape.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but after all, what is a marriage?" Persis demanded, +like a Pilate asking, "What is truth?" She rose +to her feet, but paused as ardor swept her headlong. +"Do you think it possible for any woman to live her life +out without a lover? She may cherish the memory of a +dead man or a faithless man; or throw her affection away +on a fool or a rake; she may keep it a secret almost from +herself, but never, never, never believe that any woman +can exist without some man to pay worship to."</p> + +<p>Forbes could only attempt a weak sarcasm, "Is it +impossible that a woman should love her husband?"</p> + +<p>In a daze he fell back to his seat, forgetful that he left +her standing; but she was too much engrossed with her +great problem to heed this; she went on, earnestly:</p> + +<p>"Any woman may love her husband for a little while; +or in rare case for a lifetime, especially if he beats her or +is a drunkard." Then her unwonted oratory on abstract +subjects palled on her. She came back to the concrete +instance with an abrupt, "But Harvey, Harvey, why +should we be wasting time talking about love?" She +bent over him, but he did not even look up at her. He +shook his head helplessly.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't bred in your world. I can't understand a +thing you have said."</p> + +<p>His aloofness of manner gave Persis a sense of loneliness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> +and she wailed to him as from afar, though she sank down +close to him. "But can't you understand how fate has +made a fool of me? I married for wealth and to cut a +wide swath. Well, I have the wealth. I can cut the +swath. But I've found that my ambition isn't enough, +any more than your soldier ambitions were enough. +Harvey, I'm lonely, terribly lonely. My heart is empty; +it is like an old deserted house, and a ghost haunts it, +and the ghost is—I don't have to tell you who the ghost +is?"</p> + +<p>"And you know," Forbes echoed, "what ghost haunts +me."</p> + +<p>Persis was melted by his kinship with her suffering. +She leaned so close to him that her very perfume appealed +to him as the perfume wherewith one flower calls to +another in the noontime of desire. And she said: "Harvey, +I'm going to tell you a terrible secret that I've hardly +dared to tell myself: I—I crossed the ocean to find you!"</p> + +<p>He was suffocated with longing for her, and horror of +her. He gasped, "My God! on your honeymoon!"</p> + +<p>Everywhere in that day there seemed to be a band +somewhere playing a turkey-trot. There was such a +band here, and such music was to be expected; but there +was something whimsical about the fact that the tune +this band struck up now was a rag-time version of "Mendelssohn's +Wedding March."</p> + +<p>Persis was so eager to be in Forbes' arms again, and +the dance was so ample an excuse, that she smiled into +his mask of horror. "We haven't danced for ever so +long."</p> + +<p>A wanton whoop of the violins swept away all such +solemn things as honor, decency, duty. He rose and +caught her in his embrace. It was the same girlish body, +irresistibly warm and lithe. They swung and sidled and +hopped with utter cynicism. The only remnant of his +horror was a foolish, bewildered, muttered: "How could +you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come to Paris?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Because I felt you still loved me as I still love you, +and because I thought you were—perhaps—afraid."</p> + +<p>"Afraid, eh?" He laughed, his professional soldier's +pride on fire. "Well, I don't think you will find me a +coward."</p> + +<p>And he tightened his arm about her like a vise and +spun her so dizzily that, though she was rejoiced by his +brutality, the discretion that was her decalogue spoiled +her rapture. She felt again that swoon of fear, and made +him lead her back to their niche.</p> + +<p>She did not know that Ambassador Tait had come in +and had watched the vortex, was watching now with +terror the look on Forbes' face and her answering smile. +He could not hear their words—he did not need to. He +knew what their import would be. The burlesque of +the wedding music was the final touch of sarcasm.</p> + +<p>Persis, ignorant of his espionage, sighed, "Oh, it is +wonderful to be together again!"</p> + +<p>"Wonderful," Forbes panted. "But it is in a crowd, and +you are married."</p> + +<p>"That does not mean that I am never to see you +alone, does it?" she asked, anxiously and challengingly.</p> + +<p>Forbes was still wise enough and well enough aware of +his own passion to say, "But discovery and scandal would +be the only result."</p> + +<p>"Not if we were very discreet," Persis pleaded, thinking +of those lonely months.</p> + +<p>"But your husband?"</p> + +<p>Persis uttered that ugly old truth, "If we can evade +gossip abroad, we shall be safe enough at home."</p> + +<p>And as if in object-lesson, Willie Enslee joggled up that +very moment. He showed the influence of mild tippling +on a limited capacity, and, coming forward, shook hands +foolishly and forcibly with Captain Forbes. "How d'ye +do—Mr. Ward," he drawled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Captain Forbes, dear," Persis corrected.</p> + +<p>"That's right. I always was an ass about names, Mr. +Ward. I haven't seen you for years and years, have we? +Have you met my wife? Oh, of course you have."</p> + +<p>Forbes was revolted. There was something loathsome +about the little farce. Enslee reminded him of the clown +in "I Pagliacci," and Persis, like another Nedda, was +determined to finish the scene. Tucking her fan under +her thigh, she said with innocent voice, "Oh, Willie, I've +lost my fan somewhere; would you mind looking for it?"</p> + +<p>Obediently Enslee turned and wandered about, scanning +the floor carefully and chortling idiotically, "Fan, fan, +who's got the fan?" And so he floated harmlessly and +blindly out of the cloud that was thickening around his +household.</p> + +<p>Persis laughed. "You see what an ideal husband +Willie is?" But Forbes, who had a strong stomach for +warfare with its mangled enemies and shattered comrades, +shuddered at this tame domestic horror. He blurted +out:</p> + +<p>"It is all the more shameful to deceive a fool."</p> + +<p>"Oh, now you're becoming scrupulous again!" said +Persis, who thought pride of little moment in the face of +the victory she had set her heart on.</p> + +<p>But now she was confronted by an adversary of more +weight and acumen than Willie, a man whose trade was +diplomacy and politics. Ambassador Tait came forward. +He was a little pale and weak, and he felt his heart laboring +in his breast, but he had at least one more good fight +in him, and when he found Forbes plainly enmeshed, +though struggling, in Persis' gossamer web, the old man +resolved to make the fight at whatever cost.</p> + +<p>After a moment of hesitation he came briskly forward +with a blunt: "Pardon me a moment, Mrs. Enslee, I +have an important communication for the Captain. These +state secrets you know." And he led Forbes to an adjoining +room, the library, where he said in a low tone, "Har<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span>vey, +my boy, I've cooked up an imaginary errand to get +you away from her."</p> + +<p>But Forbes tossed his head at this aspersion on his +ability to take care of himself. He answered, "I'm not +afraid."</p> + +<p>Tait's eyes grew very sad, though his lips smiled when +he said: "Well, I'm afraid for you. You're not responsible +when you're in her magnetic circle." Then, seeing that +Persis had resolutely followed them into the room, he +raised his voice for Persis' benefit: "You'll find the papers +on my desk. Read them carefully and sign them if they're +all right. They must be mailed this evening." Then he +deliberately pushed the reluctant and faltering captain +from the room, hardly leaving him time to say, "You'll +excuse me, Mrs. Enslee?"</p> + +<p>Persis understood it all and answered with thinly veiled +pique, "I'll have to." But she would not surrender him +so easily. She called after Forbes, "I'll expect you back +as soon as you have signed those—alleged papers."</p> + +<p>The Ambassador was jolted. He could think of nothing +to say. He watched Forbes go, then started to follow; +noted that Persis was alone, and remembered the laws of +courtesy enough to ask:</p> + +<p>"May I send you an ice—or your husband?"</p> + +<p>"An ice—or my husband?" Persis was forced to smile +at such a collocation. "Neither, please. Sit down, +Ambassador."</p> + +<p>Tait had not expected this. With a hesitating "Er—ah! +Thank you!" he seated himself as far as possible from +her on a leather divan. Immediately she rose, crossed +the room, and sat next to him. There was no escaping +her now, and Tait felt like calling for help.</p> + +<p>Persis forsook all the modulations of diplomacy and cut +straight to the point. "Ambassador Tait, why don't +you like me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I—I admire you immensely," he gasped, +amazed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, drop diplomacy; I'm not the President of France!" +Persis said, with a whit of vexation. When a woman +answers a compliment with anger she means business. +Persis repeated: "I said, why don't you like me?"</p> + +<p>"But—I—I—" Tait fumbled for a word; then, somewhat +angered by his discomfort, met a woman's directness +with a man's bluntness. "Well, why should I?"</p> + +<p>Persis parried his rudeness with a return to gentle +measures; she beamed. "I'm very nice! I was good to +my mother. I'm good to my husband."</p> + +<p>"But are you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm as good a wife as he deserves. You've seen +him?"</p> + +<p>Tait smiled in spite of himself, for he was one of Willie's +numberless non-admirers. Now Persis, seeing him smiling, +returned to open attack:</p> + +<p>"Last summer you took Captain Forbes to Evian-les-Bains +to get him away from me. Didn't you?"</p> + +<p>Tait was off his guard; he stammered: "Certainly not—that +is—well, how did you find it out?"</p> + +<p>Persis shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "My +mother took me to England when I was very young to +get me away from a beautiful butcher's boy. She succeeded; +she was a woman. You won't; you're a man."</p> + +<p>"Help, help!" Tait gasped, in a parody of fear that had +a groundwork of reality.</p> + +<p>"You love Captain Forbes, don't you?" Persis lunged +at his heart again; and he answered, solemnly:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do, as if he were my own son."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you want me to see him?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to see him? You're married."</p> + +<p>"But they don't keep women in harems nowadays. +Paris is very dull this winter. Don't take Captain Forbes +away again."</p> + +<p>"As I remember, you gave him marching orders once +yourself. You mustn't mind if he goes of his own accord +now."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But he won't go of his own accord if you don't make +him. Why do you? You're not afraid of me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I am."</p> + +<p>Persis laughed with a kind of pride. "Really! You +flatter me! But why?"</p> + +<p>Tait twisted his big, soft hands together and stared +at her a long while before he could speak. "This is +very embarrassing, Mrs. Enslee; but since you are so +frank, let me ask you one question. Will you answer it +frankly?"</p> + +<p>"That depends upon the question." Persis chuckled, +never dreaming of its nature. When it came it was:</p> + +<p>"Are you in love with Captain Forbes?"</p> + +<p>She laughed evasively now. "What a remarkable +question!"</p> + +<p>The old lawyer repeated the demand:</p> + +<p>"Are you in love with Captain Forbes?"</p> + +<p>"I think he is very nice," she dodged. "But what has +that to do with our friendship?"</p> + +<p>"Everything," Tait answered, with tightened lips. +"Mrs. Enslee, your father and I rowed together in the +same college crew, and Harvey's father was my best +friend. May I speak freely to you?"</p> + +<p>She responded immediately to the almost affection of +his tone. "I wish you would."</p> + +<p>"What little success in life I have had," Tait began, +with the somewhat formal speech of an orator, "has +been due to my habit of foreseeing dangerous combinations +and preventing them, or running away from them. +The most dangerous combination on earth is a woman, a +man, and another man. No married woman has a right +to the—I believe you said 'friendship,' of a man who +cares for her as Harvey cares for you."</p> + +<p>She extracted from his warning only the hidden sweet. +"And he does care for me still!"</p> + +<p>"But you've married another man."</p> + +<p>"Of course," she answered. "But do you think that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> +I can find Mr. Enslee so fascinating that I must give up +all my friends?"</p> + +<p>"Friends!" Tait exclaimed, with bitterness. "In my +day, Mrs. Enslee, I have seen some of the proudest families +in New York dragged into the mire of public shame by +tragedies that began as innocent experiments in friendship. +Don't risk it, Mrs. Enslee. You are on dangerous ground."</p> + +<p>She mused aloud. "And you think he loves me still?"</p> + +<p>Tait tossed his mane in despair. "Good Lord! That's +all my words have meant to you? Well, since we are +talking so bluntly, you'll perhaps permit me to say that +I know you are not happily married. Everybody knew +you never would be happy with Willie Enslee."</p> + +<p>"I thought I'd be as happy with him as with anybody-else," +she answered, meekly; "but since you assume that +I am not happy, why deny me the friendship of a man +whose society I am fond of? Don't you think that +everybody has the right to be happy?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I don't!"</p> + +<p>"Doesn't the Constitution, or the Declaration of Independence, +or something guarantee everybody the right +to life, liberty, and the pursuit of—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the pursuit!" Tait cried. "But the Constitution +doesn't guarantee that anybody will get happiness, and +there are laws that take away life, take away liberty, take +away even the right to the pursuit of happiness."</p> + +<p>She was on unfamiliar ground among constitutions. +She was more at home in emotion. "Let's not get into a +legal debate. All I know is that Harvey used to love me, +and I loved him too much to marry him, because he was +poor, and because I was bred to reckless extravagance. +Besides, I had ambitions. I didn't know then what a +vanity they were. But now—well, I don't pretend to +be a saint, but I have a heart—a kind of heart. I love +only one man on earth. You know that he still loves +me. Don't rob us of the happiness we can find in each +other's society—the innocent happiness."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span></p> + +<p>A gesture of unbelief escaped the Ambassador. "How +long could such love remain innocent—when it begins +by being unlawful?"</p> + +<p>"But I love him," she insisted, "and he loves me with +all his heart. Some day, I presume"—the coming sorrow +cast its shadow over her already—"some day, no doubt, +he'll find somebody he loves more, and he'll marry her. +He can have anybody now; but when he came to me he +was poor; he needed money. But I also needed money! +Things have changed; money has come to him, as it always +comes, too late. But that's no reason for robbing me +of my chance for a little while of happiness. And you +mustn't—oh, you mustn't rob him of the happiness I +could give him!"</p> + +<p>Tait was always afraid of himself when his tenderness +was appealed to, for he knew from experience that such +an appeal if harkened a moment too long, would smother +all judgment, all resistance. He felt his heart yearning +toward Persis' world-old cry, "Happiness! happiness! +a little happiness!" He tried to be harsh.</p> + +<p>"But, my good woman—my dear girl—you had your +chance; you made your choice. You must pay the price. +We can't all have the love we want. I can't. You can't."</p> + +<p>Persis laid her hand on his arm. "But why? Why?"</p> + +<p>And Tait, after a weak temptation, girded himself for +the eternal battle with unholy happiness, and answered +with Mosaic simplicity:</p> + +<p>"Because it is against the law."</p> + +<p>"But you know," Persis returned, unabashed, "you +were once a lawyer—you know that the laws in the books +are only made for those who haven't the skill to bend +them without breaking them."</p> + +<p>"Such a love as yours is against the great unwritten +laws of society."</p> + +<p>Persis would not be crushed with precepts. She +sneered: "Society! Is anybody on the square? Why +shouldn't we be happy in our own way?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tait hesitated, then answered coldly: "There are ten +thousand reasons, Mrs. Enslee. I'll give you the one +that will appeal to you most strongly: 'You're bound +to get found out.'"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think I have any discretion? Do you +think I am a fool?"</p> + +<p>"The first sign of being a fool is trying to play double +with the world. Some day—let me warn you—some day +you will find yourself so tangled up in your own cleverness +that you will be delivered, bound hand and foot, to +the shame—yes, the shame of a horrible exposure."</p> + +<p>She blenched at this facer. "Don't speak to me as +though I were a criminal!"</p> + +<p>He struck out again. "Then don't become one. You +have no right to love Captain Forbes, nor he to love you. +It is a simple question of duty."</p> + +<p>"Duty?" she raged. "I want happiness. I'm like a +hungry woman standing before a window filled with +bread. Your duty says, Stay there and starve. But it +isn't duty that lets people starve. It's being afraid."</p> + +<p>Tait put off all restraint of courtesy. "Oh, I understand +your creed. It's the creed of your set. You're not +afraid of any risk. You fear nothing but self-sacrifice. +Your greatest horror is being bored. But you'll find that +there is a worse boredom than you suffer now—the ennui +of exile, of ostracism. The very set that practises your +theory is the most merciless to those that get found out. +It's like a pack of wolves on the chase. The one that falls +or is wounded is torn to pieces by the rest, and then they +rush on again. I mean to save Harvey from that pack +at any cost."</p> + +<p>She had no refuge but a prayer. "I implore you not +to break my heart."</p> + +<p>Tait donned in manner the black cap of a judge. "Such +hearts as yours ought to be broken, Mrs. Enslee, for the +health of the world. I understand you. I don't blame +you. I don't blame your mother in her grave. It was her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> +breeding, as it is yours and that of your pack. You are the +people who bring wealth into disrepute. The noise of +your revels drowns the quiet charities of the rich who +are also good and busy with noble works. I'm afraid of +you all. But I don't blame you. I don't blame the +criminals, the thieves, madmen; but I fear them. And +in all mercy I would mercilessly put them out of the way +of doing harm to the peace of the world."</p> + +<p>Persis saw that for once appeal could not melt. She +said, with resignation: "Then you are my sworn enemy?"</p> + +<p>"No," Tait protested, "I would be your friend as far +as I safely can. But I love Harvey as a son. I would +save him from the fire of perdition, beautiful as it is, +bright as it is. And you are the fire."</p> + +<p>"And so you will fight me?" Persis faltered.</p> + +<p>"To the death!" the old jurist cried, as he got heavily +to his feet; "though it breaks Harvey's heart—and your +heart—and mine." He staggered weakly and jolted +against the divan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LVIII" id="CHAPTER_LVIII"></a>CHAPTER LVIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS, forgetting that he was her enemy, leaped to +his aid with instinctive womanliness. "You are ill; +let me get you something."</p> + +<p>Tait straightened himself with an effort, saying: "I'm +all right now, thank you. I mustn't let myself get excited, +that's all." He was touched by her sudden charity in his +behalf. He gazed at her sadly, and, taking her hand, +spoke venerably as a father. He was too sad for her sake +to be sad for his own. "I'm sorry for you, little woman. +You've a big, warm heart; but this is a cold, hard world, +and you mustn't try to break its laws. They are based on +the scandals and the tragedies of thousands of years, +millions on millions of foolish lovers. The world is old, my +child, and it is stronger than any of us. And it can punish +without mercy. Don't risk it."</p> + +<p>An almost unknown earnestness stirred Persis. "You're +right, of course. I suppose I must give up all hope of +happiness. It's my punishment. I'll take my medicine +like a little man."</p> + +<p>"That's splendid!" Tait cried. "Live square—in the +open. Respect the conventionalities; they're the world's +code of morals. If you really love Harvey, let him go +his way."</p> + +<p>"I'll prove to you that I do love him!" she said, laughing +nervously. "I'll give him up. He used to think I +was heartless and mercenary. He shall go on thinking so. +It's awfully hard, but it is the one way I can help him, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>The old man squeezed her slim hand in both of his.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> +"It's the one way. God bless you! And you won't see +him again?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said, with all the vigor of her soul. Then she +caught a glimpse of Forbes. He had returned hurriedly. +He was looking for her. She amended her promise: +"Except to tell him good-by. I've got to tell him good-by—and +make him think I was only—only fooling him, +haven't I?"</p> + +<p>The old man's triumph collapsed again. But he could +not demand everything. He nodded and left her as +Forbes appeared at the door. With the mocking laughter +of fiends, the band brayed another tango. It was faint +in the distance, but it was a satanic comment. Persis +made haste to get her business done.</p> + +<p>"Well, Harvey, good-by. I'm off to Capri to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"But I thought—" he stammered. "You're not going +to leave just as we meet again? I thought—"</p> + +<p>"You never could take a joke, could you, Harvey?"</p> + +<p>"But you said—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Harvey. But I'm married now."</p> + +<p>She was turning his own weapons on him. He was +befuddled with her whims. He repeated, "You told me +you loved me, that you were unhappy."</p> + +<p>"You ought to have known I was only fooling you. I'm +Mrs. Enslee now. And whom God hath joined—"</p> + +<p>He was beside himself with rage. She had wheedled +him out of his honor, and now she mocked him where she +had left him. He sneered:</p> + +<p>"God didn't join you and Enslee. God's voice doesn't +speak every time a hired preacher reaches out for a +wedding fee! It was the devil that joined you, and God +keeps you asunder. God joined you with me. He meant +us for each other. But you hadn't the courage to face a +little poverty. You wanted prestige and position, and +you bought them with the love that belonged to me. +You haven't the courage now to deny that you are unhappy, +that you love me still."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span></p> + +<p>She trembled before the storm of his wrath. "But I +don't—I don't love you any more. I am happy."</p> + +<p>"You can't look me in the eyes, Persis, and repeat that +lie."</p> + +<p>She tried vainly to meet his glare. She mumbled +weakly, "Why, I'm happy—enough."</p> + +<p>"Do you love me still?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"N-no! Of course not!"</p> + +<p>He wanted to strike her, primevally, for a coward, a +liar, a female cad. He controlled himself and groaned: +"Well, that makes everything simpler. Good-by."</p> + +<p>She seized his arm and threw off the disguise. "Harvey, +Harvey, I can't stand it. I can't endure the thought +of it. I can't live without your love. I don't care what +happens. I never did love anybody else but you. I +never shall."</p> + +<p>His love came back in a wild wave. He seized her +blindly, and she hid blindly in his arms, sobbing: "I am +so unhappy, so unutterably lonely! You must love me, +Harvey, for I love you. I love you."</p> + +<p>They were as oblivious of their peril as Tristan and +Isolde in the spell of the love philter. Only the old +Ambassador, who had hovered near to shield their farewell, +saw them. The vision was like a thunderbolt. To +hear of a scandal, to be convinced of it is as nothing to +seeing it. That comes like an exposure, an indecency, a +slap in the face. The Ambassador was furious with +disgust. He stormed into the room: "Can I believe my +eyes? Are you both lost to common sense? Is this your +discretion, Mrs. Enslee? Do you realize where you are?"</p> + +<p>Persis toppled out of Forbes' relaxed embrace, and +spoke from a daze: "No—I forgot—I must be out of my +mind."</p> + +<p>Forbes came to her defense: "You mustn't blame her. +It was my fault."</p> + +<p>"No, it was mine," Persis insisted. "But I couldn't +help it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tait was filled with contempt. "What if it had been +any of the guests that had found you two maniacs as +I did. What if I had been Enslee!"</p> + +<p>Persis was as amazed as he was. She muttered, "I know—I +know—but I can't stand everything."</p> + +<p>Tait tried to patch up his broken plan. "Harvey, +you've disappointed me bitterly. But I give you one +more chance to retrieve yourself. Promise me never to +see Mrs. Enslee again."</p> + +<p>Forbes shook his head.</p> + +<p>Tait could hardly believe his senses. "My God! Must +the deep friendship of two men always be at the mercy +of the first woman that comes along? Harvey, Harvey, +I beg you to give this woman up!"</p> + +<p>"I can't."</p> + +<p>Tait's voice glittered with anger. "You've got to! I +command you to! You can't commit this infamy and +remain with me!"</p> + +<p>Forbes set his jaw hard. "I resign."</p> + +<p>Tait snapped: "I accept."</p> + +<p>Persis was frantic at this outcome of her passion. +"No, no! Oh, don't! I'd rather die than be the cause +of a breach between you two." She clutched Tait's arm. +"Don't listen to him!"</p> + +<p>Forbes seized her other hand. "I'll not give you up +again. You belong to me."</p> + +<p>"You are wrecking my trust in humanity," Tait +groaned; then his wrath blazed again. "But I'll break +up this intrigue at any cost, even if I have to tell Enslee."</p> + +<p>Persis stared at him in a panic. "You couldn't do +that."</p> + +<p>Tait had made one step to the door. He hung irresolute +before the loathsome office of the tattle-tale. "What +in the name of God is a man to do? If I tell your husband +I am a contemptible cad. If I don't tell him I am your +accomplice." He pondered deeply, and chose between +the evils. "Well, I'd rather have you two think me a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> +cad than to be a criminal and a coward." He took another +step to the door.</p> + +<p>Persis clung to his sleeve. "Oh, I implore you!"</p> + +<p>He shook her loose. "I am going to tell your husband +what I saw."</p> + +<p>And then the man most deeply concerned appeared in +the doorway. Willie Enslee stumbled at the sill and +spoke with a blur: "Pershish, itsh time we were dresshing +for d-dinner."</p> + +<p>Tait looked at him in disgust, then at Persis and Forbes, +who stood cowering with suspense. The old man shivered +in an agony of decision. "Mr. Enslee, I must tell you—"</p> + +<p>He clapped his hand to his heart, and strangled at the +words: "I must tell you—I must tell you—good night!"</p> + +<p>He could not force his tongue to the task. The fierce +effort broke him. He wavered. A sudden languor invaded +him. His muscles turned to sand. He crumbled +in a heap.</p> + +<p>Forbes ran to him, and with all difficulty heaved the +limp huge frame into a chair that Persis pushed forward. +He straightened the arms that flopped like a scarecrow's, +and steadied the great leonine head that rolled drunkenly +on the immense shoulders. And he spoke to Enslee as if +he were a servant.</p> + +<p>"Run for a doctor—quick—you fool!"</p> + +<p>Willie staggered away, almost sobered with fright. Persis +stood wringing her hands. Through her brain ran the +music of the tango they were playing:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">At the devil's ball, at the devil's ball,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dancing with the devil—oh, the little devil!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dancing at the devil's ball.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>She ran to the door like a fury and shrieked: "Stop +that music! For God's sake, stop that music!"</p> + +<p>The music ended in shreds of discord. The dancers +paused in puppet attitudes, then turned like a huddle of +curious cattle and drifted toward the door. Persis re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span>turned +to Forbes' side, and, bending close, heard the old +man speaking thickly as his hands fluttered feebly about +Forbes' arm.</p> + +<p>"Harvey—I'm so—sor-ry for you—and for her. Take +care of—my poor—ch-child, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" Forbes whispered.</p> + +<p>"And—and Harvey—I wanted to—to die in A-mer-America. +Take me b-back and bury me—at home, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!"</p> + +<p>The soft hands glided along Forbes' arm in a fumbling +caress.</p> + +<p>"Th-thass—a goo' boy. You've been a—a—a—a son +to me. Har-har-vey. Goo'-b-b—Good-by!"</p> + +<p>Forbes bent down and pressed his lips to the old man's +forehead.</p> + +<p>Liveried servants with wan faces glided through the +crowd, and, lifting the chair, struggled from the room +with its great burden, the old head wagging, the lips laboring +at the messages they could not accomplish.</p> + +<p>Forbes followed the chair as if it were already the coffin +of his ideal among men. Persis waited in a trance, shaken +now and then with sudden onsets of ague, but otherwise +motionless, her whole soul pensive. Willie hung about +her, whining:</p> + +<p>"I say, old girl, let's be getting home—I feel all creepy. +Awfully unfortunate, wasn't it? Let's be getting home. +Rotten luck for the Ambassador. Nice old boy, too. +Let's be getting home."</p> + +<p>Persis did not answer. By and by Willie went in search +of his coat and her furs. The other guests dispersed. +Outside there was a muffled hubbub of chasseurs calling +carriages and cars, of horns squawking, of doors slammed.</p> + +<p>Winifred could be heard sobbing in the room where the +musicians were putting up their violins and slinking out. +Mrs. Mather Edgecumbe was audible in the stillness +telephoning the alarm to the Embassy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span></p> + +<p>Persis stood fixed, still staring where Forbes had gone. +Suddenly her face lighted up. Forbes wandered back all +bewildered. She forced her hand on him, and he took it +idly. It was some time before he could speak that ultimate +word "Dead!"</p> + +<p>Persis wrung his hand and sighed:</p> + +<p>"Poor old fellow! I'm sorry he hated me so bitterly. +He said he'd fight against my happiness till he died, and +now—"</p> + +<p>Forbes did not hear her. He was thinking only of +the foster-father he had lost. He mumbled, with dark +dejection:</p> + +<p>"I'm alone now—alone!"</p> + +<p>But Persis' face was overswept with a shaft of light. +Glancing over her shoulder, and seeing that no one was +near their door, she moved closer to Forbes, laid her other +hand on his, and spoke with all meekness and with a +questioning appeal.</p> + +<p>"Not alone, Harvey? I'm here."</p> + +<p>He opened his clenched eyes a little and met her upward +gaze. He closed his eyes again against her. She waited. +Only a moment, and then with a sudden frenzy he gripped +her in a mad embrace and smote her lips with his. She +closed her eyes in ecstasy.</p> + +<p>Immediately he started back from her in horror, groaning: +"What am I thinking? And he's just dead!"</p> + +<p>"He's dead, but I live!" She meant only to soothe him, +but through her low voice an exultance broke like a bugle +of triumph, and she whispered again: "I live! I live!"</p> + +<p>So the eyes of Jael must have widened when she had +driven the nail through the temples of Sisera.</p> + +<p>In her victory she remembered discretion and glided +aside from Forbes just before Willie entered the room +with a servant carrying Persis' furs.</p> + +<p>"Come along, Persis," Willie complained; "we can't +stay here all night."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite ready," she answered, with bridal gentleness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> +Then, "Good-by, Captain Forbes; so glad to have seen +you again. Good-by."</p> + +<p>She offered her hand formally, and he took it formally, +dumbly. As it slipped warmly, reluctantly from his +grasp it was replaced by the clammy, bony fingers of +Willie, who was doing his best in the gentle art of consolation:</p> + +<p>"Awfully sorry, old chap. These things have got to +happen, though, haven't they? Don't take it too hard, +and if you get too blue come round and let us try to +cheer you up a bit. We're at the Meurice."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Forbes. He bowed and did not +raise his eyes for fear of what might be smoldering in the +eyes of Persis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LIX" id="CHAPTER_LIX"></a>CHAPTER LIX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IN the exceeding industry of the days following the +death of Ambassador Tait, Captain Forbes found +no chance to see Mrs. Enslee. Their meeting would +have been perilous. The Ambassador had received his +death-stroke in their presence.</p> + +<p>Physicians, police, reporters, all demanded minute +descriptions of the event, and from the first Forbes blurred +the account so that Persis should not be drawn into it. +He emphasized the strenuous diplomatic labors of the +last week and the final afternoon. He italicized the presence +of Mr. Enslee at the moment of death, which came, +he said, without immediate explanation. He described +how the Ambassador's father had died—just died while +pulling on his overshoes.</p> + +<p>He lied about the last words of the Ambassador in +spirit at least, for it was sadly incomplete truth to say +that the Ambassador, after discussing trivial matters, +had said, "Mr. Enslee, I must tell you good night," and +fallen to the floor.</p> + +<p>Yet the account was not questioned. Enslee was too +befuddled to know or, when the shock sobered him, to +remember. Persis could be trusted to keep silent. In +fact, she retired from view "prostrated with the shock." +It was explained that the Ambassador had been a classmate +of her father's, an old friend of the family's.</p> + +<p>The story was telegraphed and cabled about the world. +As usual, every newspaper published a minutely circumstantial +account with a pretendedly <i>verbatim</i> statement +of the last words, and, as usual, the accounts were as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> +discrepant mutually as they were commonly remote from +the truth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The idea that the Ambassador's death might be concerned +with an intrigue between Mrs. Enslee and Captain +Forbes occurred perhaps only to one mind on earth, and +that the too-sophisticated brain of a reporter in New +York, a brindle-haired man with half of one eyebrow gone. +He could not confirm his suspicion even enough for publication, +so he hid it in the cellar of his soul, alongside the +memory of seeing Persis Cabot walk out of a lonely forest +with a man he afterward learned to be Forbes.</p> + +<p>When this reporter—Hallard, his name was—was comfortably +drunk he would discuss New York society's rotten +state of morals, usually with a horrified barkeeper, forgetting +his own morals and that of his class and of the +other classes low and middle that he knew well enough. +He would add: "There's lovely li'l lady growin' a peach +of a scan'al—um-m, a pippin!—swee' li'l dynamite bomb. +Story's going to break some day, and I'm lovely li'l feller's +goin' to break it."</p> + +<p>But he would not tell the name. He was holding that +in trust for whatever newspaper should be employing his +fanatic loyalty at the time of the break. And he was waiting, +listening, following.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Persis had been soft-hearted enough to feel the pity of +the Ambassador's death. She had wept a little for her +stricken enemy, and she suffered some acute stabs of repentance +as the instrument of his assassination. But +regret was mingled with the lilt of victory and successful +evasion—even with blasphemous prayers of gratitude to +the Lord for saving her from exposure in the matter. +She had fallen on her knees to pour out this thanksgiving, +and piously or impiously promised her Lord not to be +indiscreet again.</p> + +<p>One's god is apt to be one's ideal servant magnified.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> +As the daughters of joy in old Florence used to keep a +votive Mary in their rooms and pray to it for success in +their offices, so Persis whispered to her heaven words of +praise and gratitude for aid in escaping the consequences +of her mad whim to nestle in Forbes' arms.</p> + +<p>She went to the Ambassador's funeral, partly as a tribute +of awesome esteem, partly as good sportsmanship +toward a beaten adversary, and chiefly because it would +have been conspicuous to stay away when almost every +other American in Paris was sure to be there. She compelled +Willie to go along, an unwilling and unwitting +chaperon.</p> + +<p>She saw Forbes in the church, but at a distance, and +noted with a gush of pity how haggard and lonely he +seemed. She hoped that not all of his grief was for his +dead friend. She longed to go to him with comfort, but +she ventured only a nod from afar and one of her slow, +sweet, tender smiles.</p> + +<p>Forbes had been kept intensely active at the Embassy, +where the Consul took over the interrupted duties of the +Ambassador's office, but left to Forbes the personal details +of the funeral ceremony, the closing up of the house, +and the arrangements for getting Mildred back to New +York. The Ambassador's body was to be taken home to +America on board a war-ship proffered by the French +Republic.</p> + +<p>For three days Forbes was too grimly busy and too +grief-stricken to feel more than a longing to see Persis; +an impossible desire without impulse to achieve it.</p> + +<p>Mildred was, for once, demanding help instead of giving +it. The loss of her father was a devastation in her soul. +She clung to Forbes as to a brother. Had Persis seen her +in his arms she might have felt a jealousy; but not if she +could have seen Forbes' heart. That was filled only +with a sense of shame. He felt that in denying Mildred +his love he had robbed the old man of his last great wish. +At times he reproached himself with the very murder of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span> +his best friend, the murder of a great statesman, the noble +father of a noble woman. And the motive of the assassination +was his obstinate devotion to another man's wife!</p> + +<p>People have a genius for remorse as for other emotions, +and Forbes was of those who can mercilessly indict their +own souls. Storms of self-condemnation were succeeded +by storms of longing. About him hovered the tantalizing +beckoning vision of Persis. He was mad to see her. +He kept alternately vowing that he would not go near +her and wondering when he should.</p> + +<p>At first he dared not make an effort to see her, because +he feared to involve her and because he had not a moment +he could call his own. He was burdened with tasks +of every sort, and in and out of his office he was beset with +correspondents like sparrows demanding crumbs of news +to cable to America. He had no leisure of his own except +the black hours when he sank into his bed.</p> + +<p>He would trudge to his room so exhausted, so drowsy, +that he could hardly get his clothes off. The moment he +lay down he was the prey to a swarm of black emotions +that swooped about him like bats in a cave, swooped and +shot and chittered, swept him with their vile wings and +fastened their claws in his hair. He reproached himself +with every wickedness and worthlessness from hideous +ingratitude to murder and adultery that dared not take +what it lusted for.</p> + +<p>Sleepless nights and restless days wore him out until +the funeral, an affair of great pomp and enormous impressiveness. +When he saw Persis in the church her +beauty was overwhelming in the black costume she wore +under the shadow of a black hat.</p> + +<p>Somehow, after the funeral ceremony, the prayers, and +the long ritual, with which the church formally restored +the soul to the heaven from which it emigrated and the +body to the earth of which it was made, there came a +great relief to Forbes—the restful word "Finis."</p> + +<p>That night he dined with Mildred. She, too, felt the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> +relaxation of a burden removed. She almost collapsed +into sleep at the table, and her maid supported her to her +room. She had wept herself out.</p> + +<p>Forbes envied her nothing but her fluency in weeping. +He carried about with him the ache of the tears a man +feels but cannot release, the unshed tears that scratch the +eyes like blown grit. He longed to be a boy again and +cry his heart out as he had cried when his father was +brought home dead. He longed to weep stormily as he +had wept when the boy he was had been denied some +luxury he greatly desired—honey, or a staying home from +school, or some wild animal for a pet.</p> + +<p>The thought of Persis came to him now with the charm +of all three—honey, truancy to duty, and danger. He +lifted the telephone from the rack to ask her permission +to call. He put it down again, his heart beating +as if he had touched a snake. He went out into the +air.</p> + +<p>It was a typical, sharp, wet winter night in Paris, the +chill going with a peculiar directness straight to the marrow +of the bones and freezing the body from within outward. +Forbes had buffeted blizzards and the still, grim, +icy airs of Dakota when the mercury seemed to crowd +into the bulb of the thermometer to keep warm. But he +wondered if he had ever been so cold in his life as he +was now, when the thermometer had not reached even +the zero of the French centigrade.</p> + +<p>Paris was not Paris. The sidewalks were not peopled +with tables, and the restaurants were deserted within. +There were few people abroad, for the audiences were at +this hour in the theaters and the home-keepers were at +home. Nobody loitered in the streets but a few miserables, +and they were wretchedly cold.</p> + +<p>Forbes was so desperately lonely that he resolved to +call upon Persis, even if he had to talk to her husband. +He walked to the Meurice, but dared not turn in; he went +on by. Later he was back again. Three times his cour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span>age—or +his cowardice—failed him. The last time he +stopped short as if he heard a sudden "Halt!"</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee was just stepping into a car with two +other men, violently American and manifestly bent on +finding in Paris what Paris manufactures for American +visitors.</p> + +<p>Willie paused and cast his eyes along the street idly +while he waited for the other two to precede him. Forbes +stepped behind a shelter till Willie vanished.</p> + +<p>Forbes, the brave, the upright, found himself dodging +to escape Willie's fishy eyes, found himself chuckling over +Willie's blindness. Then he cursed himself for a reptile. +He turned away from the hotel and started back to his +apartment, groaning to himself, "The woman doesn't +live that can make a sneak of me."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LX" id="CHAPTER_LX"></a>CHAPTER LX</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WHEN he had gone a few hundred paces he whirled +about and hurried back to the hotel; asked for +Monsieur <i>et</i> Madame Enslee; sent up his card; wished +he had it back; received a summons to come up; cursed +the slowness of the Parisian <i>ascenseur</i>; wished it would +fall and kill him; moved toward Persis' door as to his execution; +and was ushered in by Nichette, who was cloaked +and bonneted for an evening out. She left him a moment, +then came back and rattled off a string of French, from +which he gleaned that he was <i>voulez-vous'd</i> to seat himself +and attend a little moment. Then Nichette left him +and hastened to the corner of the street, where a little +waiting <i>piou-piou</i> shivered in his uniform.</p> + +<p>The hostility Forbes read in Nichette's look was merely +her impatience at being kept a few moments longer from +her sergeant after having been detained an hour by a +quarrel of the Enslees—a quarrel ending in a defiant +announcement from Willie that he was going to see the +wickedest show he could find in Paris, and from Persis an +hilarious "<i>Bonne chance!</i> I hope you find somebody to +take you off my hands for a while!"</p> + +<p>This had horrified Willie as a sacrilege, and he had +regretted his vow. But in the court of the hotel he found +two Americans who had typically arrived in Paris, and +bibulously prepared for a night of social investigation +without having taken the trouble to learn a word of +French, the distinction of coins, or the system of cab +fares and tips. They welcomed Enslee as a life-saver, +embraced him, and bade him confirm their worst suspicions +of Paris.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span></p> + +<p>This Forbes did not know, and he misinterpreted +Nichette's brusquerie. His own thoughts were brusque. +He loathed himself, and hated Persis and blamed her as +if she had cast down a net from her window and dragged +him to her feet.</p> + +<p>He paced the lavishly furnished reception-room of the +suite and resolved to escape before it was too late. The +thought of the cold loneliness of the streets, of the town, +of the world, held him back. He was unutterably forlorn. +He sank into a chair and clenched his hands together.</p> + +<p>Then he heard Persis' voice. It came through the +glistening portières masking the doors to the room adjoining, +a kind of living-room. Music and welcome and +all of Persis' beauty were in the little hospitable words:</p> + +<p>"Come in here, Harvey, won't you? I can't budge, +and I'm all by myself."</p> + +<p>Wondering where she was and how he should find her, +he pushed through the curtains timidly, as timidly as +Joseph entering Potiphar's wife's boudoir.</p> + +<p>He found Persis cuddled up on a chaise longue of gold +and satin. She was almost lost in a jumble of parcels +and toys and knickknacks. She had been writing addresses, +and the fingers she gave into his were smudged +with ink.</p> + +<p>She sat like a sultana, with her feet curled under her. +She wore a light confection of a house-gown of some astonishingly +attractive hue, with plentiful display of white +lace and arms and bosom and a good deal of stocking. +She wore a boudoir-cap fetchingly awry.</p> + +<p>Forbes put her hand up to his lips and laughed as he +kissed the smudge of ink. It was the first laugh he had +known for days. It was like the first chuckle of rain +after a drought. It brought moisture to his eyes.</p> + +<p>He clung to her hand. It was now a rescuing hand put +out to lift him from the dry well of gloom. He dropped +to his knee, and without any coquetry she put her arms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> +around him and huddled him close. His hot cheek knew +the ineffable comfort of her silken shoulder; his brow felt +her lips upon them. He was at home.</p> + +<p>All the strength that had sustained him, all his ideas of +duty and honor, were blown away like the down of a dandelion +puff by the mere breath of her lips. And now the +tears his eyes had refused broke from them in flood. He +wept because he was happy and because he had found +contentment and refuge. He wept as great heroes and +fierce warriors used to weep before tears went out of +fashion for men and began to fall into disuse even among +women.</p> + +<p>Persis mothered him, wondering at his childishness. +She did not weep with him. She smiled. She laughed +the low, thorough laughter of the victorious Delilah getting +her Samson back. She loved him though she betrayed +him. She loved the triumph of her beauty, the victory +of her soft bosom, over all the hateful inconveniences of +law and justice and piety.</p> + +<p>By and by he was smiling, too, with shame at his +humanity and his return to boyhood, and with the revel +of her companionship. She humiliated him deliciously +by drying his wet eyelids with her fragrant tiny handkerchief +and by the silly baby talk she lavished on him. +But it was the only comfortable shame he had felt in the +past black days.</p> + +<p>And now they were indeed acquainted with each other. +She had seen him weep. When a woman has gained that +advantage over a man, what dignity has he left? She +can make a face at him, and all his pride becomes a laughing-stock.</p> + +<p>At length, to avoid the reefs of more important talk, +he asked her how she came to be alone, and what all the +bundles were for. She explained that she had been shopping +betimes for Christmas presents and had been making +the things ready for the morrow's American mail; Willie +had mutinied and gone vaudevilling; his man had taken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> +the English maid of a neighbor in the hotel to a dance +at the Red Mill; and Nichette had refused to miss her +soldier's evening out.</p> + +<p>Persis made Forbes help her with the remaining packages, +and they laughed like youngsters over the knots she +tied, and the blots she made, and the things she had +bought for all the people she had to buy things for—her +father, her mother-in-law, her sister, her sister's children, +and an army of servants. When finally the last address +was inscribed she felt that she had done enough duty for +a month, and voted herself a vacation—also a cigarette. +She told Forbes where Willie's cigars were kept, but he +made a punctilio of not smoking them, though he had +none of his own and would not order any from the hotel.</p> + +<p>They talked small talk and love talk; they laughed and +cooed. They were congenial to the infinitesimal degree. +The world outside was dank and cheerless. They shut it +away with great curtains. They forgot that there was +any curse upon their rapture. They shut out all their +obligations as things clammy and odious.</p> + +<p>Nature had selected them for each other. Nature +mated them and wooed for them, and did not know or did +not care what other plans they had made, what contracts +or pledges had been assumed. The true damnation was +in the earlier crime: that solemn marriage in the church +before the world. The wickedness was begun at the altar: +the violation of duty, the breach of the seventh "Thou +shalt not." It was there that Persis' feet took hold +on hell.</p> + +<p>Yet the world had made a jubilee of that occasion. +People had put on their best clothes and were proud to +be asked to assist. Rather, they should have hidden +their eyes from the abomination; they should have resented +the request to play accomplice to that indecency. +Instead, they celebrated the crime with flowers, and +music, and with surplices in a church.</p> + +<p>There would be resentment enough, but belated, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> +the consequences of that impious sacrifice were reaped, +when nature demanded restitution and scoffed at the +mortgage. If this night's rite were ever heard of it would be +cried out against, the celebrants would be shunned, banished.</p> + +<p>None of this is to say that faith should not be kept, +however rashly pledged, or that people should make a +virtue of refusing to pay the debts they run and repudiating +the laws that shelter them.</p> + +<p>Persis' earlier crime did not justify or cancel the +latter, but added another to it. She had entered with +open eyes into her compact with Enslee; she auctioned +herself off; he was the highest bidder, and she knocked +herself down. She was in honor bound to stay sold. +But the very readiness to commit that infamy, the yielding +to that temptation, was instruction for the next. +Easy bind, easy break.</p> + +<p>Her only safety was in keeping away from Forbes. That +was the Ambassador's wisdom. He feared the very +proximity of Persis and Forbes. He foresaw that, while +nature would hold cheap the laws of mankind, mankind +would not accept nature as an excuse for lawlessness.</p> + +<p>In spite of him Persis and Forbes were reunited. The +withes that marriage had bound about her were as nothing +to the great changes it had made in her soul. It had +taken away the enormous power that exists in maidenhood, +with its self-awe and its fierce defense of integrity. +That instinct of self-preciousness that had made Persis +hide her lips from Forbes' kisses on a far-off day was +annulled, for her lips had been Willie Enslee's for more +than half a year. Her body had been his toy. He had +schooled her to maturity, made a woman of the girl.</p> + +<p>And now in the presence of the bridegroom selected by +nature and love what protection had she? She had no +harem walls to inclose her, no guardians to keep the +suitor away or to threaten exposure. She had lost the +fawn-like girlishness that would take flight; there was +no nun-spirit within her now to cry "Help me!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span></p> + +<p>What remorse there was was the man's. He blamed +himself for overpowering where he was overpowered and +decoyed. With the traditional mistake of the man he +accused himself of a ruthless conquest when he was really +the prey of ancient guile and wile. And this again is not +to blame Persis. She was herself the mere puppet of +world-old impulses along the wires of sense. She was a +victim, too. But her remorse was hardly remorse at all, +rather amazement or dismay. It was Forbes that condemned +himself for dishonor.</p> + +<p>Man is the maker of laws, the upholder of laws, the +punisher of those who violate the majesty of the law.</p> + +<p>But law for law's sake has little or no meaning for +woman. She has her own codes and reads them within. +The complex tissue of her loves and hates is her attorney, +always plaintiff or defendant, not often referee. She has +her glories, and perhaps they are greater than any of +man's; but the creation of laws and constitutions and +codes is not one of them. She is timid, she is brave, she +is merciful, she is ruthless. She may reproach herself +for indiscretion, for folly, for misplaced trust, for misguided +emotion; but did any woman ever honestly reproach +herself for a breach of honor as honor? A disloyalty +to religion, yes; to faith, yes; to love, oh yes; +but to honor?</p> + +<p>Persis was dumfounded at the completeness of her +success by surrender and at its rashness. She was afraid +that Forbes might despise her; but she felt also the barbaric +primeval perfection of the triumph of nature. She +had achieved her destiny. She had been female to the +male of her choice. She would fight the consequences; +she would deny the fact, but she felt that she could never +regret it.</p> + +<p>Immediately having made conquest of Forbes, she began +to own him. She began to resent his other obligations, +his other codes; her jealousy began to function.</p> + +<p>She implored him to postpone his return to America;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> +to follow the Ambassador's body on a later steamer; not +to go, at least, on the steamer Mildred took—anything +to escape the breaking of the rose-chains wherewith she +withed him. But his almost filial love for his benefactor +overcame even his passion. Nothing could move him +from that last foothold on self-respect.</p> + +<p>The triumph of love wound up in a war, a downright +quarrel, with all the brutality of a married couple. And +that came to an abrupt end with the tinkle of a clock +sounding the hour. Both of them blenched. It was as +if rats fighting heard the bell of the cat.</p> + +<p>"You must hurry," she gasped, "Willie is long past +due."</p> + +<p>Forbes needed no urging. He fled so precipitately that +he hardly paused for a farewell kiss. They had time for +no future plans. He sneaked along the corridors of the +hotel. He feared to summon the elevator lest Willie +step out of it. He went down by the stairways. From +the entresol he studied the lobby of the hotel to make sure +of not meeting Enslee. A detective might have suspected +him for a thief had not his manner been the immemorial +stealth of clandestine lovers. Love had belittled him +thus in one evening.</p> + +<p>Little Willie Enslee could have put him to flight, have +struck him without resistance, have shot him down without +provoking an answering shot.</p> + +<p>So Forbes had coerced and terrified soldiers of his who +were far superior to him in bulk and brawn. They saw +his shoulder-straps and respected them, took a pride in +being humble before them. Back of them was the whole +power and dignity of the nation.</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee wore the shoulder-straps of the husband. +He wore that authority, and back of it was arrayed the +decency and the safety of human society.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXI" id="CHAPTER_LXI"></a>CHAPTER LXI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES took the steamer he had planned to take, +though he had such battles with his recalcitrant +heart that he did not feel safe till the tender at Cherbourg +put away from the ship and left him no opportunity of +return.</p> + +<p>Equally disconsolate was young Stowe Webb, who had +lost his post with his chief, and who was in a panic +of uncertainty. But Mildred, on her first day of calm, +reverted to habit and began to take thought of the welfare +of others. She asked Stowe of his plans, and, learning +of his hopelessness, immediately begged him to act +as her own secretary—"at an increase of salary because +of the extra trouble she would give him."</p> + +<p>The reaction from despair to this paradise was so great +that young Webb found it hard to maintain the appropriate +solemnity. He fired off a wireless to the friend +who received his messages for Alice, and when he heard +it crackling from the mast it was like a volley of festival +sky-rockets.</p> + +<p>He told Forbes of his new-found hope and how poor it +was at best, and Forbes envied him his very deferment; +there was something so clean and beautiful about a young +lover trying to earn enough to earn the girl that waits +for him. Young Webb was building a home, and Forbes +was destroying one.</p> + +<p>The arrival in New York brought a new mountain of +tasks for Forbes. Mildred had adopted him as an elder +brother; she gave him power of attorney in the endless +interviews with the lawyers, executors, directors, and the +officials in the Department of State.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes soon learned what the Ambassador's hints as to +his will had meant. A recent codicil bequeathed to him +almost as much as Tait's dead son was to have had.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Forbes as if Satan had laid the wealth +of Ormus and of Ind at his feet and knelt there grinning +over the hoard. There was a further sardonic bitterness +in the legacy, since he knew that it had been given him +so that he might feel able to make Mildred his wife without +sacrifice of his pride.</p> + +<p>The thought came to him that he could square himself +with the dead and with the living by carrying out +this implied, if not inscribed, condition of the deed of +gift.</p> + +<p>Mildred was a splendid soul. She was not Aphrodite +like Persis, but Minerva was beautiful, too. Mildred was +far nobler than Persis, who was not noble at all. She +would be a magnificent wife. She would make their +home a bee-hive of lofty purposes amid serene delights. +A union with Mildred would be wonderful. It would +crown life.</p> + +<p>And he felt that Mildred would not oppose it. He resolved +again and again to ask her; but he simply could +not tell her that he loved her as a wife ought to be loved. +He and Mildred had become so dear to each other as +brother and sister that no other affection seemed possible. +To marry her would mean not only an infidelity to Persis, +but a more cruel infidelity to Mildred.</p> + +<p>Unable to fulfil the condition of the legacy, he tried to +refuse it. The executors asked him why; his evasions +led them to suspect his sanity. Mildred would ask him +why? What could he tell her?</p> + +<p>He consulted Ten Eyck, but could tell him only that +he could not give Mildred the love that was needed to +sanctify the marriage. Ten Eyck probably understood +more than he admitted. He lifted one eyebrow and lowered +the other, as if his mind were divided between two +comments. He said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I see why you can't go to nice old Mildred and say, +'Dear girl, I wouldn't marry you for a hundred thousand +dollars.' That would be an awful black eye to hand a +charming lady. But I can't say that your motives of +love appeal to me, Forbesy. You sound like the heroine +of an old-fashioned novel refusing to marry a rich man +because she loves old Dr. A. Nother.</p> + +<p>"But whatever you do, Forbesy, don't refuse the +money. In times like these, when bank presidents are +robbing their children's savings-banks for carfare, don't +spurn any real money, or you'll cause several persons to +die of apoplexy, and strong men will lead you to the paddedest +cell in the house of foolishness.</p> + +<p>"Take the money and build an Old Ladies' Home with +it; but don't make a solemn jackass of yourself right out +in public."</p> + +<p>Forbes took the money, promising himself that he would +scatter it in beautiful deeds of charity.</p> + +<p>But he didn't.</p> + +<p>One never does.</p> + +<p>In the first place, money in large quantities has singular +adhesive and cohesive properties. In the second +place, when the news of his wealth was published he received +such serial avalanches of begging letters of every +sort, noble and ignoble, that he was dismayed. He +showed a stack of them to Ten Eyck, who said:</p> + +<p>"You could give away your fortune in a week, and +make about as much of a show as if you drove a sprinkling-cart +along the main street of hell. All millionaires grow +callous; if they don't, they cease to be millionaires."</p> + +<p>Forbes answered a few of the appeals with cheques, and +planned to file the others alphabetically for future reference. +But he never got round to filing them.</p> + +<p>This was not the only sarcasm of his wealth. He had +returned to his duties as a line captain and was restored +to Governor's Island. But here again there was discomfort. +His fellow-officers envied him his luck, but despised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> +him for not profiting by it. And it did seem peculiarly +grotesque that a man of his important means should be +trudging about on a drill-ground giving orders to stupid +privates and taking orders from stupid superiors. His +very men seemed to think he was a ludicrous fanatic. He +felt that he must leave the service.</p> + +<p>He poured out his woes to Ten Eyck again, who advised +caution. "Don't jump out of the frying-pan, Forbes, +till you've tested the fire with your big toe. You might +be even unhappier out of the army than in it. Ask for a +long leave of absence—say, six months, and see how you +like it. Then you can resign or go back."</p> + +<p>"They won't give me six months' leave without a good +reason," Forbes demurred, though he was fascinated by +the idea.</p> + +<p>"A lot of money is a good reason for nearly anything. +Anybody will give a rich man what he asks for," Ten +Eyck insisted. "Take some of the high boys out in your +car, and blow them off to a gorgeous evening, and promise +them some more of the same. Then pop the question."</p> + +<p>Forbes made the attempt, and it succeeded with surprising +ease; he was granted six months' leave of absence +without pay "for special research and experiment."</p> + +<p>His research was into the comforts of wealth, and his +experiment was the effect of life without labor or ambition.</p> + +<p>Forbes had a car now. He had not intended to get +one, but after dodging salesmen for weeks one of them +lay in ambush for him and carried him off for a ride—a +demonstration in disguise. He was so captivated by the +1915 model and the enlarged powers it gave him that he +capitulated and bought. He learned to be his own chauffeur; +but this was so inconvenient at times that he was +soon hiring a charioteer. And, of course, he never +skimmed the earth or sped through beauties of landscape +that he did not wish for Persis at his side. He had a +better car than Enslee's now. He could buy Persis the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> +costly, cozy little runabout she wanted; he could hire her +father's chauffeur and Nichette. He could buy her great +quantities of clothes, and he had leisure for her entertainment. +But he had not her, nor the right to buy things +for her.</p> + +<p>Away from her he found that time was softening his +remorse without hardening his heart against her. His +wealth was mockery, his leisure was mockery. His mind +was hardly more than a music-box eternally purling one +little tune: "Persis-Persis-Persis!"</p> + +<p>And then Persis came back, as if his longing had pulsed +across the sea. She had no difficulty in persuading Willie +to return to New York. He felt positively footsore from +travel.</p> + +<p>As they came up the Bay on a home-bound liner her +heart was beating as if she were entering a dark room +full of ghosts. As Governor's Island was reached she +studied it again with a marine-glass.</p> + +<p>She thought of the little homes of the officers' wives, +the little garage-less quarters where there must be so +much content. She wished to God that she were living +in one of those little homes there.</p> + +<p>If she had married Forbes she would never have caused +the Ambassador's death; she would not have given herself +to Willie Enslee. She could not have had more unhappiness, +more loneliness and vain regrets. She would +have dwelt in Forbes' arms; she would have been his all +day long and all the long nights. All this past and horrible +year would have been a true honeymoon. Love would +have been wealth enough.</p> + +<p>As she had told Alice Neff, "Almost anything that we +are not used to is a luxury." She had learned the corollary, +that almost any luxury becomes a poverty as soon as one +is used to it. She was all too familiar with splendor. +She hungered for a life of little comforts. The word +"cozy" grew magically beautiful.</p> + +<p>She had not been long ashore before she learned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> +new status of Forbes. It was Mrs. Neff who told her, +taunting her with having jumped into the marital noose +with Willie too soon.</p> + +<p>She had not been long ashore before she met Forbes. +And once more it was Willie who brought her into his +presence.</p> + +<p>Forbes was now a member of several of the more important +clubs. Willie met him at one of them, and asked +him to join a crowd he was inviting up to the country +place.</p> + +<p>Forbes' heart began to knock at his breast at the +thought of being with Persis again in the Enslee Eden. +A remnant of honesty led him to decline the invitation +on the ground of another engagement, but Willie insisted.</p> + +<p>"You had such a rotten time there last spring," he said. +"I want to make up. There won't be any lilacs yet; but +there'll be servants—and something to eat."</p> + +<p>Forbes flung off his scruples, and promised to "motor +up." The phrase sounded odd in his ears, for he remembered +the poverty of his first visit, when he went as a +passenger in Mrs. Neff's car.</p> + +<p>When he spoke of his car Enslee said: "By the way, +if you're motoring up you might bring Mrs. Neff and +Alice. The old lady's old car has got the sciatica or something."</p> + +<p>So Forbes brought Mrs. Neff along, and Alice. Mrs. +Neff had much to say of his wealth. And now that she +knew Persis to be out of the running, she had evidently +entered Alice for the Forbes stakes. Forbes could feel +the idea in the air, and he was exceedingly embarrassed.</p> + +<p>He was embarrassed more by his arrival at the country +home. The great hill was as bleak as the granite bridge. +The trees were shaggy with snow. The house was part +of the winter, as white as an igloo. The statues were oddly +distorted with icicles and snow; they looked very cold—especially +the Cupid in the temple—a windy and forlorn +white kiosk where a naked child suffered exile. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> +struck him as pitifully appropriate to the Enslee menage +that Love should be left out in the cold.</p> + +<p>Persis received him now in her quality of owner and +housewife, with a flock of servants everywhere. He found +her in the living-room, surrounded by guests, chattering +and lounging and sprawling. He had not seen her since +he left her that night in Paris.</p> + +<p>She gave him her hand and a few commonplace words, +but their eyes embraced and their lips were tremulous with +unspoken messages and ungiven kisses.</p> + +<p>Her manner warned him, and her apparent neglect of +him gave him the cue of his behavior. But there were +brief collisions when it was possible to murmur a word or +two before one of the numerous other guests drifted up +and ruined the tête-à-tête. He pleaded ruthlessly for +a meeting; she pleaded for discretion above all things. +She reminded him of the great difference between the +condition of their former visit and the present. With +only a few about them before, they had narrowly escaped +discovery; what chance had they now?</p> + +<p>As the dinner-hour approached, and the others went up +to dress, Forbes lingered, and Persis sat with him a moment +in the embrasure of that drawing-room window +where they had once held rendezvous. The mystery was +gone from it, and the poetry. But they seized each other +in one swift embrace of arms and lips. Even this was +broken just in time to escape the sight of the butler, who +entered to ask a question as to the wines for the dinner.</p> + +<p>Persis gave her orders with an impatience that could +hardly have escaped the man's notice. She felt a little +extra effort at impassivity in his manner, and was sure +that he suspected her of more than a hospitable interest +in Forbes. She could not resent an unexpressed intuition, +but she felt humbled and shamed and afraid.</p> + +<p>When the butler was gone she repeated her warning to +Forbes, but he took her in his arms again. Her mind +told her that she must not go on risking, go on registering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span> +faint impressions in the minds of servants and of guests; +but her heart would not defer entirely to her intelligence.</p> + +<p>Forbes was taciturn at the dinner. Mrs. Neff could not +provoke him to vivacity. She noted that his gaze returned +constantly to Persis, and that when her look came +down the board to him it softened strangely.</p> + +<p>After dinner little cliques were formed about the billiard +and the pool tables, the card-tables, and a few danced the +everlasting tango with some new variation. Forbes and +Persis danced together, and many eyes noted the perfect +rapport of their mood, the solemn joy they took in the +welded union.</p> + +<p>"How well they dance!" was the spoken comment; +but the thought was, "How congenial they seem!"</p> + +<p>Shortly after nine there was an excitement. On the +hill opposite a building was on fire. The guests crowded +and jostled at the windows. Somebody proposed that +they all go to the scene of the blaze. The irresistible fascination +of a burning building at night was inducement +enough. Motors were telephoned for from the distant +garage, and there was a scramble for wraps. Forbes' car +was not brought up, and he was invited into Enslee's. +He climbed in, but clambered out again to get an extra +wrap for Mrs. Neff. A maid had already run for it, and +by the time he returned the cars had all gone.</p> + +<p>He stood regretting boyishly the loss of the opportunity +to go to a fire. He watched for a few moments from the +steps, and then turned back into the house. He found +Persis at the drawing-room window. She had declined +to go. He joined her. Out on the white edge of the lawn +they could see the servants in a little mob staring at the +pyrotechnics of an upward rain of sparks.</p> + +<p>"I'll put out the light. We can see better," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she protested; but he had already found and +turned the switch. They were in a cavern of darkness, +with one window dimly reddened. He found his way +back to her. She urged him to turn the light on again,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> +but he refused. She moved to turn it on herself, but he +held her fast, and compelled her back to the deep embrasure, +and drew the curtains behind them.</p> + +<p>She could count the servants on the lawn outside. +They were all there. She felt that it was safe to be alone +with Forbes, at least till one of the domestics should detach +himself from the group and move across the snowy +sheet of white.</p> + +<p>They watched in silence awhile the leaping red geyser +of the flames. It grew and expanded till it formed a huge +ember-mottled orchid with vast petals trembling in the +wind.</p> + +<p>On the far-off roads they could see the long shafts of +motor-lights wavering like antennæ. From all the homes +of the region the neighbors were hastening to the spectacle, +huge night moths drawn by the flaring lamp.</p> + +<p>For a long, blissful while the flame-flower bloomed +against the black sky. At last it wilted and failed and +shriveled. Then the servants turned back to the house. +Persis fled from Forbes' arms to her own room, where +Nichette found her, apparently established the past hour.</p> + +<p>Forbes waited at another window, and when at last the +motors came puffing back the home-comers were too benumbed +with cold and too eager for warming drinks to +know or care whether Forbes had been with them or not. +Any one who might have missed him would have supposed +him to be in one of the other cars.</p> + +<p>The next day some of the guests rode over to see the +ruins. Forbes and Persis went along. To their amazement, +what had seemed, while flaming, to be a miracle of +enchantments, a palace afire, proved in the daylight to +have been a miserable shack whose hollow shams and +rotten timbers the flames had mercilessly exposed to public +contempt, stark, charred, cold, obscene.</p> + +<p>"It was so beautiful while it burned," said Persis. "I +can't believe it's the same. It was like a wild rose in the +night; but in the daylight it's hideous, it's revolting.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span> +Look at the fraud in the building of the house—the rotten +timbers, the ghastly furniture in the back rooms!"</p> + +<p>Forbes was about to say that their passion had something +akin to this. But as he raised his eyes to hers he +saw that she had the same thought.</p> + +<p>She shivered and said, "Let's get away from the +place."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXII" id="CHAPTER_LXII"></a>CHAPTER LXII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">NEVER, it seems, has human ingenuity been able to +devise a scheme of guardianship that human ingenuity +could not thwart. Seeing that seraglio walls, +and yashmaks, and eunuchs, and bow-strings, and scarlet +letters, and pillories, and divorce courts, and gossips have +failed to scare fidelity into the disloyal, perhaps the modern +honor system is as good as any. But the honor +system is not infallible; and not all the spies of Mrs. +Grundy can coerce from without those who are not +coerced from within their own hearts.</p> + +<p>For those who are willing to devote themselves to +deceit and make an industry of other people's property, +opportunities have always been infernally provided. +Persis and Forbes did not find it difficult to be alone. +Solitudes seemed to be created suddenly in crowds, +chances to escape and to creep back undetected seemed +to be brandished in their faces. The unabated plague of +the tango explained their presence at all sorts of hours at +all sorts of places. There were morning classes in new +steps; between the courses of luncheon at numerous +restaurants in and out of town there were dances, and +these were prolonged till tea, and after that till dinner, +and on until whatever hour of closing the individual +cabareteer had arranged with the police. The private +hostesses seemed to vie with the restaurateurs.</p> + +<p>The dancing frenzy had shown no signs of passing. It +had developed into a revolution that swept the world. +Dancers who were yesterday unknown, to-day were +wealthy. A dancer and his wife had grown to such di<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span>mensions +of fame that influential people rented them a +house on Fifth Avenue, where lessons could be given at +all hours. A girl who had danced in a restaurant became +a national figure and hired a hall. The clergy and the +editors fought in vain; the Kaiser and the Pope were unheeded; +all the nations danced; even the Japanese caught +the contagion. New steps abounded, became so complex +that it was not easy to change partners. The turkey-trot +was laughably obsolete. Everything and everybody was +influenced by the tango in one of its countless forms. It +had already made itself an epoch in human history.</p> + +<p>Willie Enslee was one of the stubborn minority that +refused to dance or go to dances. After a number of +vain assertions of an authority he could not enforce he +ceased to concern himself with Persis' whereabouts; she +ceased to announce her program in advance or to report +it afterward.</p> + +<p>The motor-car was another immense enlargement of +liberty—and license; it was so easy to outstrip pursuit +and outwit espionage. In two hours one could vanish +into the wilderness and return without evidence of escape. +At distant road-houses and motor-caravansaries +the twang of tango music troubled the country midnights.</p> + +<p>And so the intrigue of Captain Forbes and Mrs. Enslee +prospered and established itself as the habit of their +lives; their souls adapted themselves to it. Precautions +against discovery became second nature, like precautions +against disease and accident. They were bound together +in a kind of secret wedlock, what Tibullus called the +<i>furtivi foedera lecti</i>.</p> + +<p>Persis, like another Guenevere, justified herself to herself +by the feeling that she was true to one Launcelot; +she flirted with no one else; she kept Willie's home in +order as best she could; she paid him the tribute of outward +devotion and public respect. Above all, she justified +herself by her success. So far as she could see, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> +a human being suspected her love for Forbes, not a breath +of scandal had been stirred.</p> + +<p>And all the while gossip was busy with them; evidence +accumulated against them grain by grain, as sand-dunes +are formed into walls. Everybody spoke of the intrigue +to everybody but those most concerned. Nobody warned +Persis or rebuked Persis or tattled to Willie. A few fearless +persons talked to Persis' father, but he could not +believe, or, believing, could not touch so repulsive a topic +in his few meetings with his daughter. How could a +father accuse his little girl of outrages against a commandment +he had been afraid even to mention to her. Several +women broached the theme with Willie's mother, who had +been suspicious on her own account. She answered the +gossips with fervent denials and with vigorous defense +of Persis; but she vowed to herself that she would descend +upon her daughter-in-law with vengeance. Yet, before +Persis' eyes she could only dissemble; then she would +resolve to warn her son, but she feared the terrific possibilities +of lighting such a fuse. Willie was like herself +in so many ways, and half of her blood was from the +Spanish aristocracy through an international marriage.</p> + +<p>Eventually people began to say that somebody must +tell Willie, and some day somebody might. Some day he +might stumble upon some tryst, or open a letter, or overhear +a gossip's careless word.</p> + +<p>Ten Eyck heard plenteous scandal, and he was heartbroken. +Even his cynicism could not stomach the intrigue. +But even his affection could not bring him to +protest.</p> + +<p>He had intervened once before in such a scandal; but +the husband had forgiven his wife because of her beauty +and her gaiety, and both of them had thereafter been his +bitterest enemies, because he knew and had said too +much. Friends who had merely gossiped behind their +backs were reinstated to complete favor.</p> + +<p>Everybody felt that Persis and Forbes, in their mad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> +gallop across another man's boundary line, were riding +for a fall. But everybody was fascinated by the breathlessness +of the gallopade, the escapes from disaster. Nobody +cut Persis, omitted her from a list of invitations, or +treated her otherwise than as a valued and charming +ornament to the world. Nobody would desert her so +long as she kept the saddle, held her head up, and remained +attractive.</p> + +<p>But should she fall and be dragged in the dirt, then +the panic would come; then the majesty of public morals +would assert itself, and her friends would flee from her +as if she appeared among them chalk-faced and scaly-handed +with leprosy.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the poison of their Judas life was wearing +upon their own souls. Forbes was growing restive to be +at work again upon his career. To be the messenger-boy +of a woman's summons grew increasingly irksome. He +dreaded an official cognizance of his new career as home-wrecker, +and his innate decency was more and more rebellious +against the outrages he committed incessantly +against his self-respect, his creeds, his codes, his position.</p> + +<p>And, last of all, a strange new horror assailed the +basking luxury of Persis. It dawned upon her that +in spite of all her precautions nature was about to make +the use of her that all this rapture was for. Her physician +confirmed her dread, and congratulated her—and +her husband! She dared not ask his aid in foiling her +destiny. She dared not ask anybody's aid. Her life of +pleasure-hunting had made a coward of her.</p> + +<p>And so at length remorse found a lodging even in her +voluptuous life. She understood the fearful responsibility +she had assumed to a future soul. And she groveled +in abject self-derision to think that even she could not +be sure of her child's legitimacy. So helpless a vessel +for nature's chemistry she was that she was not permitted +to know even that! And she could not so much as be sure +whether she even wished it to be love's child or the law's.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span></p> + +<p>The treachery to her own child was so hideous that she +would have killed herself had she not dreaded to add +murder to suicide. She longed to pour out her woes to +Forbes, but she could not bring herself to confess her +degradation. He only knew that somehow all the rapture +was gone from their union. It had lost even that +compensation.</p> + +<p>The thought came to Forbes that there was but one +way to make their life livable—to make it frank and public. +Persis must enter the divorce court, and as soon as +possible after marry him. That sort of solution for such +intrigues had been much practised of late. It had become +so fashionable that protest was losing its vigor.</p> + +<p>He opened the subject to Persis. She shrank from +it with revulsion. She could not tell him her secret even +then; but it was a mighty argument to herself against +such a step. She gave other reasons cogent enough in +her opinion.</p> + +<p>"Anything but divorce, Harvey. I'd rather die than +go through it. Willie couldn't do the polite thing. He +is a Catholic, you know, and his mother's Spanish blood +boils at the divorce habit."</p> + +<p>"Then if he won't give it, you can take it, anyway."</p> + +<p>"But suppose he should fight. Suppose he should set +detectives going back over our trail or bribe the servants. +Look at this morning's papers—the ghastly head-lines +about Mrs. Tom Corliss—her photographs! Did you +read the testimony of the maid at that big hotel? Suppose +Willie should get hold of that bellboy who was so +insolent to us—the one we didn't dare rebuke and had to +tip so heavily. Did you read Mrs. Tom's love letters +yesterday? Only one paper dared to print them all. +Mrs. Neff said everybody bought it specially. Mrs. +Neff laughed till she cried.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you rather die than go through with it? +And, my God, how they would tear me to pieces! The +poor people and the middle-class people push through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span> +the divorce court in droves—eighty divorces were granted +in two hours the other day, Murray Ten Eyck was telling +me, and only one paper mentioned it—in a paragraph! +But if Mrs. Tom Corliss gets the front page, what wouldn't +they give to Mrs. Willie Enslee?"</p> + +<p>Forbes said no more. Somehow he was reminded of +the time when he was dancing with Persis, and the rose +light was suddenly changed to green. There was a charnel +odor in the air.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXIII" id="CHAPTER_LXIII"></a>CHAPTER LXIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE following afternoon Persis came home from a +tango-tea, where she had expected to meet Forbes. +Through some misunderstanding he had failed to appear. +This left her plans in a decided tangle. He was probably +trying to find her by telephone. He would doubtless call +up the house. Things were in a mess there, too. An +ancient romance in the servants' quarters had resulted in +a wedding between the second man and one of the chambermaids. +Nichette had been chosen as a bridesmaid +and had begged off for the afternoon, as had all of the +others that could be spared.</p> + +<p>Nichette had long ago been taken into their confidence +as a necessary go-between. Persis trembled lest a message +from Forbes should fall into inexperienced hands.</p> + +<p>To complicate matters Willie had resolved to go to the +opera that night and to be on time. He had read an editorial +somewhere ridiculing the horseshoe of box-holders +for their indifference to overtures and first acts. Willie +naturally selected this one evening for his rebuke to the +editor. Dinner was to be served an hour earlier than +usual.</p> + +<p>Harrowed by the multiplex difficulties surrounding an +intrigue, Persis was kept waiting at the door a long time +in the cold. She was about to rend the tardy footman to +pieces when the door was opened by Crofts, the superannuated +butler, an heirloom from Enslee's father.</p> + +<p>Crofts had long ago reached the age when he was too +venerable to wear the Enslee livery. He was an ideal +gentleman, respected and loved by all the family and its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span> +friends. But as an officer of the household he was deaf, +decrepit, and almost useless. Yet he was too much of +an institution to discharge, and he simply would not +retire.</p> + +<p>He was permitted to lag superfluous as a sort of butler +<i>emeritus</i>. At large dinners he hovered about in the offing +correcting and directing with a marvelous tact and an +infallible memory for the encyclopedic lore of nice service. +For a guest to be recognized by his watery old eyes and +named by his thin lips was in itself a distinction.</p> + +<p>To-day he was blissfully happy. The young upstart +servants had flocked to the wedding, and he was called to +the helm. When Persis saw him at the door her heart +melted, but it also sank.</p> + +<p>"Did anybody call?" she asked, and asked several +times in <i>crescendo</i>.</p> + +<p>"Only Mrs. Enslee, ma'am," he whispered, in his dry, +cackling, deaf man's voice.</p> + +<p>Persis cast her eyes up in despair and hastened to pay +her devoirs to her mother-in-law. The elder Mrs. Enslee +was looking radiantly beautiful in her white hair and her +black eyes and the assisted red of her Spanish lips, with +her cascade of furs falling about her.</p> + +<p>She smiled at Persis sadly. Her daughter-in-law was +beautiful undeniably. What a pity that she was not also +good! But she kept back her reproaches, and said in +the most delicate of accents, with her tendency to an exquisite +lisp:</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, my dear. It's only a duty call."</p> + +<p>"Won't you stop to dinner?" Persis urged. "We're +only going to have a bite. We're dining early and hurrying +away to the opera. Willie is determined to hear the +overture and the first act. I dote on 'Carmen,' but I've +never been in time for the first of it."</p> + +<p>"'Carmen!'" Mrs. Enslee sniffed. "That old slander +on my race—as if Spanish women were all faithless!"</p> + +<p>"But if it's Carmen for Spain," Persis said, "it's Camille<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> +for France, and Becky Sharp for England, and—who for +America?"</p> + +<p>"Hester Prynne, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," laughed Persis. "Even the Puritans had +their scandals; but she was a grass-widow, and the town +was so dull, and the preacher so handsome. Can you +blame her?"</p> + +<p>"Cynical Persis!" Mrs. Enslee sighed. "Well, I shall +be late."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd stay," Persis lied, graciously. "You're +a picture. And everybody says you are flirting dreadfully +with old General Branscomb."</p> + +<p>"I hope you don't believe all you hear."</p> + +<p>"Only the worst."</p> + +<p>"Then you're on the safe side. But remember, my +dear, other people can apply the same rule. I'm not the +only one who has been suspected of flirting with an army +officer." The doorbell had punctuated their chatter +several times. It rang again. "Now, who's that? +Expecting anybody?"</p> + +<p>"No, and I've got to fling into my opera-gown."</p> + +<p>"What are you wearing to-night?"</p> + +<p>The rhapsody of description was interrupted by the +incursion of Willie. He wore his overcoat and top hat +into the room, and his key-chain dangled. He was in +one of his most fretful moods. He vouchsafed his mother +a casual "Oh, hello, <i>madre mia</i>," then turned to Persis.</p> + +<p>"What the devil has happened to the servants? Nobody +to answer the bell. Had to let myself in. Deuced +nuisance unbuttoning coat, getting keys out, finding right +one. What are we coming to? I'll fire that Dobbs."</p> + +<p>"You forget, dear, he is getting married this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"We all ought to have gone," said Mrs. Enslee; but +Willie has no sense of obligation to his employees.</p> + +<p>He ignored the suggestion and raged on, "Well, +Dobbs isn't our only servant, is he?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," Persis explained; "but, you see, he's marrying +the housekeeper's daughter, and the butler is best man, +and the maids are bridesmaids—"</p> + +<p>"Romance everywhere," Willie sneered, as he laid off +his things and threw them on a chair, "except up-stairs. +I suppose that's why my man was so surly when I told +him he'd have to stay and dress me. He'll probably cut +my throat while he shaves me. I wish he would."</p> + +<p>"That's cheerful!" said Persis. "What brings you +home from the club so early? It's such an unusual +honor."</p> + +<p>"I heard something I didn't like—gossip."</p> + +<p>"Tell us what you heard," Mrs. Enslee asked, hungrily.</p> + +<p>"I prefer not to retail club gossip in my home," said +Willie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, aren't we punctilious?" Persis railed; and Willie +answered, curtly:</p> + +<p>"One of us ought to be."</p> + +<p>Persis was jarred a trifle, but her only comment was: +"Why is it that when men are feeling ugly they always +come home early?"</p> + +<p>Willie threw her a look of wrath and turned to his +distressed mother. "Won't you stop to dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Not when there's so much war-paint visible, thanks!"</p> + +<p>"But hang it all—" Willie began, and checked himself, +for Crofts shuffled through the room. Willie rounded on +him. "Oh, somebody at last, eh? Why the deuce was +no one at the door? I had to let myself in."</p> + +<p>Crofts cupped his hand behind his ear, and crackled, +"Beg pardon, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I had to let myself in, I say."</p> + +<p>"Very sorry, sir, but owing to Dobbs' wedding and +your early dinner, sir, the servants have a great deal to +do."</p> + +<p>"But I rang and rang!" Willie stormed, and repeated, +wrathfully, "I rang and rang!"</p> + +<p>"Very sorry, indeed, sir," Crofts pleaded. "My hear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span>ing +isn't as good as it was when I entered your father's +service."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't have my house turned into a—an infirmary."</p> + +<p>Crofts heard that and withered. "Your father never +complained of me, sir."</p> + +<p>"You heard better then and jumped quicker," Willie +shouted.</p> + +<p>The old man, at bay, answered with unintended irony: +"I meant no offense, sir, by growing old."</p> + +<p>"Oh, get out!" Willie snapped.</p> + +<p>Crofts bowed and turned on Persis a pitiful look. She +gave him a glance of sympathy, then pointed to Enslee's +coat and hat. Crofts took them, and, touching the back +of his hand to his eyes and swallowing hard, shuffled away.</p> + +<p>Willie's mother rebuked him. "You've broken his +poor old heart."</p> + +<p>And Persis was more severe. "You ought to be ashamed +of yourself."</p> + +<p>Willie retorted, more sharply: "Oh, we all ought to be +ashamed of ourselves—for something or other. Crofts +isn't the only man on earth with a broken heart."</p> + +<p>As Persis stared in wonderment at his unusual mood +Crofts came back. "You are wanted on the telephone, +ma'am. The gentleman wouldn't give his name."</p> + +<p>Persis flinched at this, and stammered, "You'll excuse +me?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Enslee answered with a sudden frigidity, "Of +course, but I'll not wait. Good-by."</p> + +<p>"Good-by!" said Persis, uneasily, and left the room. +The moment she was gone Mrs. Enslee put her hand on +Willie's arm and spoke in some confusion.</p> + +<p>"Willie, I—it's very hard for me to say it. But I +think you allow Persis too much liberty."</p> + +<p>Willie snorted. "Gad! a lot of good it does an American +husband to try to manage his wife!"</p> + +<p>"I know, and Persis is very headstrong," Mrs. Enslee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> +faltered; "but—well, if anything happens, remember I +tried to—"</p> + +<p>"Enjoying the luxury of an 'I told you so' already, +eh?" Willie sneered. "What's up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing—nothing definite—but I—I'm just a +little uneasy. It can't hurt to keep your eyes open, +can it?"</p> + +<p>She had said this much at last. Willie took it solemnly. +"What could hurt a man worse than to have to watch his +wife?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if that's the way you feel, just forget what I've +said. I'm a foolish old woman. Good-by!"</p> + +<p>Willie let her make her way out unattended. He stood +musing till Persis came back, then he wakened with a +start, and demanded, "Who was it telephoned you?"</p> + +<p>The question took Persis by surprise. "No one that +would interest you."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Since when this sudden concern in my affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Aren't your affairs mine?" he pleaded; but she was +curt:</p> + +<p>"Indeed they're not. I don't nag you with questions."</p> + +<p>He answered this with a sorrowful humility. "Sometimes +I wish you would take a little more interest."</p> + +<p>"You're in a funny mood," she said, more gently.</p> + +<p>"It's not very funny to me," he groaned.</p> + +<p>"You'll feel better after dinner. Run along and let +Brooks dress you."</p> + +<p>"What about you?"</p> + +<p>"I had my hair done while I was out. I've got to wait +for Nichette to get back. I—I'll come up as soon as I—as +soon as I write a letter or two."</p> + +<p>"All right," he sighed, and went out obediently, but +paused to stare at her with a curious craftiness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXIV" id="CHAPTER_LXIV"></a>CHAPTER LXIV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS awaited his departure impatiently, tapping her +foot with restlessness. She fell into reverie of indefinite +duration. The bell rang. She gave a start of +joy. Crofts went by on his way to the door. She +checked him. "I'm expecting Captain Forbes." He got +the name on the third iteration. "If it is he, show him +in here." He nodded and set out again. She called +after him, "If it is any one else I'm not at home."</p> + +<p>She ran to a mirror, preened herself expectantly, and +waited with a look of joy. Crofts returned with a card. +Persis took it, and asked, "You told her I was out?"</p> + +<p>Crofts was alarmed at once. "No, ma'am, I said you +were at home."</p> + +<p>"But I said I was out to every one except—"</p> + +<p>Crofts was in despair at his blunder. "Oh, I'm so +sorry! I'm afraid I'm too old and deaf to—"</p> + +<p>She relented and patted his hard shoulder-blade. +"There, there! don't worry, we'll get through the day +somehow. Show Mrs. Neff in; but nobody else except +Captain Forbes."</p> + +<p>Crofts smiled like a forgiven child, and returned with +Mrs. Neff, who bustled in crying, "Ah, my dear, such +luck to find you at home."</p> + +<p>"So sweet of you to come," said Persis. She was in no +mood for Mrs. Neff. She determined to be rid of her. +She explained about the early dinner and begged to be +excused lest Willie murder her for being late. Persis rang +for Crofts, kissed Mrs. Neff a grateful good-by, and fled. +As Crofts opened the door to let Mrs. Neff out he let<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> +Winifred Mather in. Crofts protested feebly that Persis +was not at home, but Winifred came in anyway.</p> + +<p>Winifred was just returned from Paris, foiled in her +campaign for the late Ambassador, and determined to +regain her control over Bob Fielding. She had not seen +Mrs. Neff, and she had much to say. Ignoring the helpless +Crofts, they drifted back to the drawing-room to +swap scandals from the opposite shores of the ocean. In +this fascinating barter they forgot the flight of time, +forgot even the place they were in, for they fell to discussing +Persis and her affair with Forbes.</p> + +<p>Winifred had heard of it even in Paris.</p> + +<p>"But what does Willie think of it?" she asked; "if he +can think?"</p> + +<p>"In any intrigue, my dear," Mrs. Neff pronounced, +"the last three persons to learn what all the world knows +are the husband and the two intriguers."</p> + +<p>"I saw Bob Fielding yesterday," said Winifred. "He +told me about it on the dock. He's furious at Persis. +He said somebody ought to tell Willie."</p> + +<p>"He's right, my dear," said Mrs. Neff; "but who wants +to do that sort of job? It's like street-cleaning—very +necessary and sanitary, but we don't care to do it ourselves, +and we don't admire the people who do. Crooked +things have a way of arranging themselves in this naughty +world. Leave Persis alone. Some day some little accident +she couldn't foresee—the mistake of a messenger-boy +or a postman or somebody—and bang! out comes the +whole scandal. Persis is clever, but she's juggling with +dynamite."</p> + +<p>It was only the last thirteen words that Persis overheard +as she came down to the drawing-room, never dreaming +that Mrs. Neff had not gone or that Winifred had come. +Her slippers were soft, and her gown made no frou-frou. +The voices of the women, softened to a ghoulish stealth, +reached her with uncanny clearness.</p> + +<p>She paused, struck to stone. Her heart pummeled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> +her till her throat throbbed visibly. She wanted to fall +down and die. She wanted to run from the house and +from the town. Instead, she shook off every primitive +impulse, and, tossing her head in defiance of fate, marched +into the room with all the gracious majesty of a young +queen going to her coronation. Her costume completed +the picture: she was robed for the opera, and she wore +her all-around crown of diamonds. She stared incredulously +at Winifred, and cried with ardent hospitality:</p> + +<p>"Winifred, it's you! I didn't know you were in town!"</p> + +<p>And Winifred, assured by her manner that she had not +overheard, hastened to embrace her, exclaiming: "Persis, +darling! I haven't seen you for a thousand years."</p> + +<p>And they kissed each other.</p> + +<p>"You see, I haven't gone yet," Mrs. Neff apologized. +"Winifred and I fell to talking—about you, of course."</p> + +<p>"Say it to my face," said Persis.</p> + +<p>Winifred lied angelically. "Cornelia was telling me +how famously you and Willie get along. You're so congenial."</p> + +<p>Persis recognized the intended obloquy, and beamed in +answer: "Willie is a duck of a husband. Why don't you +try marriage?"</p> + +<p>This was so straight a lunge that Winifred slid in a sly +<i>riposte</i>:</p> + +<p>"Do you ever see that li'l snojer man of yours any +more?"</p> + +<p>"Li'l snojer man? Have I one?" said Persis, white-mouthed +with fear at the directness of the attack, and +at the simultaneous tingle of the door-bell. She tried to +check Crofts, calling to him as he moved to the door. +But he did not hear.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff was enjoying the rare treat of seeing Persis +discomfited, ill at ease. She joined the onset.</p> + +<p>"She means Captain Forbes."</p> + +<p>"Yes—that's the one," Winifred smiled. "See him +often?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, once in a long while," Persis confessed. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"I just wondered. He used to be so devoted to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that was ages ago," Persis laughed. And then +Crofts came in with his little salver. Persis regarded it +with as much dread as if it bore the head of John the +Baptist instead of a tiny white card.</p> + +<p>Crofts was so proud of remembering his instructions +that he murmured, with a senile smile: "You told me you +were at home to him, ma'am."</p> + +<p>Persis read the name, and it danced before her eyes, +fantastically. In the phrase of the prize-fighters, "they +had her going." It was all so simple and foolish, yet so +naggingly annoying, that she was utterly nonplussed. +She stood a moment snapping the card in her fingers. +Then she had a mad inspiration. She smiled stupidly +between Mrs. Neff and Winifred and said:</p> + +<p>"It's my—my lawyer. I—I'll go to the door and see +him."</p> + +<p>"But I asked him to come up!" Crofts protested in a +doddering collapse, and vanished like a ghost at cockcrow.</p> + +<p>Forbes appeared at the door. He saw Persis, and there +was no mistaking the love in his eyes. Then he saw Winifred +and Mrs. Neff, and there was no mistaking his confusion, +though he tried to put on a smile of delight at the +sight of them.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Neff grinned with rapturous malice, and bewildered +Forbes utterly by asking three ironical questions and not +staying for an answer:</p> + +<p>"Changed your profession, Captain Forbes? A lawyer +now? Specialty divorces?"</p> + +<p>Then she nodded to Winifred, and they made their way +out, ignoring Persis' outstretched hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXV" id="CHAPTER_LXV"></a>CHAPTER LXV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">FORBES stared after the two women in complete +perplexity. He turned to Persis to ask stupidly:</p> + +<p>"What did they mean, Persis?"</p> + +<p>Persis had lost almost every whit of self-control. She +had an insane desire to scream, to hide somewhere and +go into hysterics. She sank into a chair and mumbled:</p> + +<p>"They know everything."</p> + +<p>"Good God, it's not possible! Was it because I came +in as I did?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it wasn't your fault. It was mine and +Crofts'."</p> + +<p>He made to take her in his arms, but she warned him +where he was with a gesture. He sank into a chair, +groaning:</p> + +<p>"I'd rather cut off my right hand than bring suspicion +on you, Persis."</p> + +<p>Staring idly ahead of her, Persis maundered in a hollow +voice, "And they refused my hand!" The lash of +this remembered insult brought her to her feet with a +snarl. "They refused my hand! Oh, it's all over now. +A war extra couldn't spread the scandal faster than those +two women. But I suppose it had to come some day. +And we thought we were so discreet!"</p> + +<p>She laughed bitterly, for the luxury of self-contempt +was alkali upon her tongue. But Forbes could only sigh, +"How you must hate me!"</p> + +<p>"How much I love you!" she whispered. Even in her +panic she had no reproach for the author of her defeat; +and as she paced the floor she touched his cheek with a +passing caress.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span></p> + +<p>She walked to the window idly and stared out into the +street. She fell back with a gasp. "Oh, they saw me!—they +saw me!"</p> + +<p>"Who?—who saw you?"</p> + +<p>"Alice Neff and Stowe Webb just drove up. They +waved to me. They're coming here. Good Lord of +heaven, at such a time!"</p> + +<p>The door-bell rang in confirmation, and Crofts shuffled +down the hall. He glanced timidly at Persis, and she +nodded her head.</p> + +<p>"You can't see them now," Forbes protested; "tell +the man not to let them in."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't do any good. Besides, they saw me. Now +of all times I must keep up a bold front. Wait in the +library, Harvey. I'll get rid of them as soon as I can." +He was hardly gone before Alice came running, crying, +"Oh, here you are," and seizing the hand that Persis +thrust at her absent-mindedly. Stowe Webb seized her +other hand and clung to it as Alice rattled on: "We had +the narrowest escape! Just as our taxi drew up to your +door my awful mother and Winifred drove away—without +seeing us!"</p> + +<p>"And do you poor children still have to meet in secret, +too?" Persis asked with a dreary sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Indeed we have to," Webb replied, "and always shall. +Her mother won't let me in the house! And I am doing +a little better now—two thousand a year. But Alice's +mother still calls me a pauper. Our only hope is a runaway +marriage. But Alice always remembers what you +told her. I wish you could advise her differently now, +for we are hopelessly unhappy. We couldn't be more +miserable even if we were married."</p> + +<p>Alice corroborated this theory. "It's simply terrible +the trials we are put to now. But you made it so vivid +to me—the other side of it—the sordidness, the poverty, +the stairs, the bills; how I should grow plain, and begin +to nag; how I should ruin Stowe's career. Oh, why do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span> +we women always seem to be getting in the way of the +careers of the men we love! Why can't we help them?"</p> + +<p>"We can, Alice, we can!" Persis averred, with a sudden +energy. "If we begin the right way, if our love is the +right sort, if we don't wait too long. Marry him, Alice."</p> + +<p>"But you said," Alice reminded her, "that I should +miss all the comforts that make life worth while." And +Persis answered with a solemnity that was unwonted in +her:</p> + +<p>"If you don't marry the one you love you miss everything +that makes life worth while. If you don't sacrifice +everything that love asks, why, love robs you of all your +delight in the things you have kept. Your mother will +forgive you, Alice. But what if she doesn't? It is better +to lack the forgiveness of some one else—of every one +else!—than to feel that you can never, never forgive +yourself. That is the most horrible thing in life, not to +forgive yourself."</p> + +<p>"But you talk so differently now!" Alice interposed; +and Persis explained it dismally enough:</p> + +<p>"I know more now than I did then."</p> + +<p>Alice went into her arms, eager to be coerced and decided +for: "And you really think it is my duty to go?"</p> + +<p>"A woman's first duty is to her love," Persis cried. +"Go, marry the boy, Alice, and be true to him—oh, be +true to him!—always! whatever—whoever—comes into +your life. Love and fidelity!—what a marriage they +make!"</p> + +<p>Young Webb bent and kissed her hand, saying: "You +must be a very good woman to give such noble advice. +And Willie Enslee must be a mighty good husband. +Come along, Alice, remember your promise!"</p> + +<p>He started to drag her out, but Alice hung back and +demanded, "Give us your blessing first."</p> + +<p>"My blessing? My blessing?" And Persis' amazement +was hardly greater than a curious shock of rapture over +the unheard-of prayer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, for you are so good!" Alice insisted. And Persis, +in half-hysterical emotion, waved her shivering hands over +them and murmured:</p> + +<p>"God be with you forever!"</p> + +<p>When they had gone and Forbes came back to her she +was mumbling in a strange delight: "I don't believe +any one ever before called me good. It has a rather +pleasant sound." She was half laughing, half crying. +"I've done some good in the world at last."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I ever truly loved you till now," +Forbes said. He had played eavesdropper to her counsel, +and it had endeared her to him magically. He took her +in his arms and she kissed him, and there was a moment +of peaceful oblivion. Then the habit of stealth resumed +control of Persis. She began anew to hear footsteps +everywhere and to imagine eyes gazing from all +sides.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't stay a minute longer," she whispered. +"Willie is at home. You telephoned you had something +awfully important to tell me."</p> + +<p>"Yes. You've got to help me make the most important +decision of my life."</p> + +<p>"Can't it wait?"</p> + +<p>"No. I must decide to-day. My leave of absence has +been withdrawn, and I've been ordered back to my cavalry +regiment at once."</p> + +<p>So disaster followed disaster.</p> + +<p>"Isn't there any way out of it?" she asked, weakly.</p> + +<p>"I tried to get the order recalled, but there is some +influence against me at Washington."</p> + +<p>"Some woman! I know! It's Willie's mother. She +has General Branscombe under her thumb."</p> + +<p>"But that would mean that she suspected us!"</p> + +<p>"A woman always suspects the worst. And she's +always right. Well, what are we to do?"</p> + +<p>"That is for you to decide, Persis," Forbes said. "I +have two letters here, two requests." He produced two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> +formidable official envelopes. "I have influence enough to +get either of them granted."</p> + +<p>"What are they?" she asked, terrified by the documents.</p> + +<p>"This is an acknowledgment of the order and a statement +that I take the train to-morrow for New Mexico."</p> + +<p>"New Mexico!" Persis gasped. "I shouldn't see you +again for a long, long while."</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"Then I choose that you send the other letter, of +course," she spoke almost gaily. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"My resignation from the service."</p> + +<p>"Your resignation?" she gasped. "Why should you +resign?"</p> + +<p>"To avoid court-martial for the crime of stealing another +man's wife. Either you go away with me where your +husband can't follow, or I go away where you can't follow."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to force a choice like that on me?" +she protested. He nodded grimly.</p> + +<p>But her frantic soul was incapable of decision; it fled +from the effort. The memory of her humiliation before +Mrs. Neff and Winifred swept back over her with intolerable +shame; she began to stride along the floor again, +gnashing her teeth in rage:</p> + +<p>"What can I do to silence those women? Harvey, you +must help me. Think up some neat lie that will look like +the truth."</p> + +<p>He was so tired of deception that he groaned aloud. +She whirled on him in raucous fury: "Do you suppose I'm +going to give in to a couple of frumps like those two? +Do you think I'll let an old hen and an old maid down +me?—now! Well, hardly! I'm no quitter, Harvey. I +never was a quitter, was I? But what can I do? No +story would convince them. I must stop their mouths—that's +it. Everybody's got a scandal somewhere. What +do I know about them? What have I heard?" She beat +her head to stir her memory. "If I can't find out something +I must make it up."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes glared at her incredulously. "Persis! Are you +lost to all decency?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to know," she retorted. "But what of +that? I'm desperate. I'm fighting for life."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God, Persis, what have we come to?" he +moaned. "Is this the result of our love?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, this is it!" she laughed. "This is what comes of +having a heart. I see now why a love like ours is against +all the laws, written and unwritten. It's the wisdom of +the ages, Harvey." His very neck rebelled against the +galling yoke of their intrigue. He groaned:</p> + +<p>"We can't go on with the situation any more. We are +getting degraded—driven to lies, and now you suggest +blackmail. What next? We must pull up short and +sharp, Persis. You must decide this minute: either to go +away with me or to stay here without me."</p> + +<p>"You've got to stay here and help me fight."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I won't fight such a battle. It isn't fighting; +it's cowardice, it's treachery. Decide now, once for all. +Give me up or free yourself from Enslee and become my +wife. You advised Alice to run away; you can't go back +on your own advice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but the elopement of a young unmarried couple +is a pretty romance; ours would be a hideous scandal."</p> + +<p>"But we're all smothered in scandal now. Everybody +is talking about us—everybody. The only way to make +our love right is to come out before the world and proclaim +it."</p> + +<p>"And even now, when I should be thinking of you, all +I can think of is what they'll be saying of me to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"If we do the best we can what difference does it make +what people say? Persis, I'd rather die than endure another +hour of this underhand life. But I can't give you +up. I can't leave you here to the mercy of these people +and the evil influences around you. I offer you happiness. +We shall be together always. You can't refuse."</p> + +<p>"You're right, of course. I've got to decide. I'm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span> +afraid to be alone. I'll go with you. Give me just one +moment to get my cloak. I—I can't very well go like +this, though, can I—in an opera-gown and tiara? I must +change to a traveling-suit. And Willie expects me to go +to the opera."</p> + +<p>The little things, the little briery things of life were +holding her fast, tripping her headlong desires. She grew +more irresolute with delay. "It's a terrible step, and it +means the end of me. Everybody will cut me dead on +the street. My own father will never speak to me again. +The newspapers will be full of it. They'll only remember +the scandal when they see us. It will follow us everywhere, +and come between us and turn even you against +me."</p> + +<p>Then she shivered and sank into a chair helpless.</p> + +<p>"I can't go, Harvey, I just can't go. I'm afraid of +what people will say."</p> + +<p>That was the acid phrase that turned his love to hate, +his adoration to disgust. He broke the vials of his wrath +upon her head.</p> + +<p>"What will people say?" he sneered. "Is that all you +can think of? Why, that has become your religion, Persis. +You can stand the lying—the sneaking—the treachery—can't +you? You've courage enough for the crimes, +but when it comes to consequences, you're a coward, eh? +But I'm not afraid of the consequences. I'm afraid of the +crimes. I'm not afraid of the gossips, but of giving them +cause. I offered you protection, devotion. I wanted to +rescue our honor. But you—what do you care for me—for +love—for honor? You care only for yourself and for +what people will say—well, you'll soon know. But I +won't help you to ruin your life. I won't let you ruin +mine. I'm sorry I ever saw you. Before God, I'll never +see you again!"</p> + +<p>He turned to go. A cry of anguish broke from her. +She rushed in pursuit of him, flung her arms about him, +sobbing: "No, no, I won't let you! You've no right to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span> +leave me. I've given up everything for you. I've been +everything to you. You can't leave me! Don't, don't, +don't!"</p> + +<p>He was too deeply embittered to have mercy. Her +panic only angered him the more. He ripped her +hands from his shoulders, jeering at her: "Agh, you're +faithless to your duty to your husband, faithless to +your love of me, faithless to everybody—everything."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Harvey," she pleaded, brokenly. +"Take that back."</p> + +<p>"You've killed my trust," he raged. "You've killed +my love. I hate the sight of you."</p> + +<p>She put her hand over his cruel mouth to silence +it. "Don't let me hear that from you—pity me, +pity me!"</p> + +<p>He tried to break her intolerable clasp, but she fought +back to him. Abruptly she ceased to resist. She just +stared past him. Startled, he looked where she stared. +She whispered:</p> + +<p>"Some one is behind that curtain—listening!"</p> + +<p>The curtain trembled, and she gasped again: "Look!"</p> + +<p>A shudder of uneasiness shook him, but he muttered: +"It's only a draught from somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is," she answered, weakly. "I feel all +cold." And then she stared again and whispered: "No! +See! There's a hand there in the curtain!"</p> + +<p>And Forbes could descry the muffled outlines of fingers +clutching the heavy fabric. He hesitated a moment, +then he moved forward.</p> + +<p>She put out her arm and stayed him, and spoke with +abrupt self-possession. "No, it is my place." Then she +called, hoarsely: "Crofts, is that you? Crofts!" There +was no answer, but the talons seemed to grip the shivering +arras tighter. She called again: "Nichette! Dobbs! +Who's there?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's none of the servants," she whispered. Then, +after a pause of tremulous hesitation, she strode to the +curtain and hurled it back with a clash of rings. It +disclosed Willie Enslee cowering in ambush. He held a +silver-handled revolver in his hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXVI" id="CHAPTER_LXVI"></a>CHAPTER LXVI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">A LITTLE groan of dismay broke from Persis' lips as +she rushed between Forbes and the danger, interposing +her body to protect his. Forbes seized her and thrust +her away and leaped toward Enslee.</p> + +<p>But Enslee darted aside and, running behind a great +carved table, covered Forbes with the revolver, and cried, +in a quivering voice, "Don't you move or I'll fire!"</p> + +<p>Forbes smiled grimly at the plight, and spoke with the +calm of the doomed. "All right, if you want to. It's +your privilege. But I wouldn't if I were you. In the +first place, I'm sure you'd miss; you don't hold your +revolver like a marksman."</p> + +<p>"The first shot might miss," Enslee admitted; "but +there are five others."</p> + +<p>"You'd never pull the trigger a second time," said +Forbes, icily. "And there's not one chance in a thousand +of that toy stopping me. I've got two bullets in me now—from +real guns. And I'm not dead yet. If you should +wing me, though, I'm afraid you'd never shoot a second +time, for I'd have you by the wrist and by the throat—and +I'd strangle you to death before I realized what I +was doing."</p> + +<p>Enslee quaked with terror, less of Forbes than of his +own fatal opportunities and his own weapon; Forbes began +to edge imperceptibly closer and closer as he reasoned +with the wretch, who, having lost the momentum of his +frenzy, was a prey to reason.</p> + +<p>"After all, what good would it do to shed a lot of +blood?" Forbes urged, gently, as to a child. "It would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> +only publish your disgrace. Besides, people don't indulge +in pistol-play any more. It's out of style, man. That +ought to appeal to you, if nothing else will. And then +it's so unjust. Why kill a man because your wife preferred +him to you? It's a free country, isn't it? What +does a man want with a wife who doesn't want him? The +days of slavery are over, aren't they? If she doesn't love +you enough to—" There was such a pitiful sag of Enslee's +head at this stab that Forbes spared him more, and +went on soothingly: "Better let this whole affair just +drop. I was going away. She wouldn't go with me. +She didn't love me enough, either. She preferred to stay +with you. I'll never see her again. I promise that."</p> + +<p>He put his right hand out appealingly. "Come, let's +make the best of it and cheat the gossips."</p> + +<p>One quick motion and he had struck Enslee's wrist +aside and down, and clamped it to the table with his left +hand. It was hardly necessary to press his thumb between +Enslee's knuckles to force his inert fingers open. +Forbes picked up the revolver, pressed the catch to the +safety, and dropped it into his pocket. Then he breathed +a deep sigh, less of relief than regret, and turned to go. +He almost stumbled over the body of Persis. She had +swooned to the floor when he thrust her off, and had lain +unnoticed while the males fought through their feud on +her account.</p> + +<p>Forbes stared down at her. Shame and anger had so +burned him out that he had no love left for her and no +mercy. She seemed an utter stranger to him. He did +not even stoop and lift her to a chair. He shook his head, +smiled bitterly, and went out.</p> + +<p>Enslee hung across the table in a stupor of imbecility. +The noise of the outer door, as Forbes closed it, shocked +him back to life. He peered about the room and understood. +He dropped into a chair and hid his face in his +hands.</p> + +<p>By and by Persis gradually returned to consciousness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> +She rose to her elbow in a daze, striving to collect her +senses. With a sudden start she recalled everything, +got to her knees, and hobbled with all awkwardness +toward Enslee, whispering, haggardly: "Have you killed +him? Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Gone!"</p> + +<p>"Gone! No, no! No, no!" She raised herself to her +feet to set out in pursuit of him, but just as she reached +the door she was confronted by Crofts, who bowed once +and walked away.</p> + +<p>Persis' training and her heart fought a duel in her +quivering frame. Then she gained her self-control, turned +to Willie, and murmured:</p> + +<p>"Dinner."</p> + +<p>The marvelously inappropriate word sent through him +a shudder of nausea.</p> + +<p>Persis appealed to his other self. "Must we take the +servants into our confidence?"</p> + +<p>"I think you may trust my breeding," he answered, +frigidly. He stalked woodenly to the door, held back the +curtain, and bowed with mechanical gallantry.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" she sighed. She wavered a moment +and clutched at her throat. Then she flung her head high +in that thoroughbred way of hers and walked steadily +from the room.</p> + +<p>And Willie followed in excellent form.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXVII" id="CHAPTER_LXVII"></a>CHAPTER LXVII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">IN the famous Enslee dining-room, where brilliant companies +had gathered for a generation, giving and taking +distinctions, and where Persis in her brief reign had mustered +cohorts of pleasure that outgleamed them all, only +two chairs were drawn up to the table; and that was contracted +to its smallest circle. All the other chairs were +aligned along the white marble walls with a solemn look +as of envious, uninvited ghosts sitting with hands on +knees and brooding. The walls were broken with dark +columns like giant servants, and between them hung +tapestries as big as sails. The tapestries told in a woven +serial the story of "Tristram and La Beale Isoud."</p> + +<p>Only three servants waited now: Roake and Chedsey—in +the somber Enslee livery, whispering together as they +straightened a rose stem or balanced a group of silver—and +Crofts, eternally bent in an attitude of deference, +standing near the door—the great golden portal ripped +from the Spanish castle of one of the senior Mrs. Enslee's +ancestors.</p> + +<p>For all their listening the servants had been unable to +learn the details of the immediate wrangle, though they +knew that war was in the air.</p> + +<p>Crofts had kept them at their tasks and at a distance, +and Crofts either had not heard or would not have told +if one of them had presumed to ask him.</p> + +<p>He had lived through so many family tragedies that he +rather celebrated in his heart a day of good spirits than +remarked a period of stress. And of all times, he felt, a +good servant shows his quality best when the atmosphere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span> +is sultry with quarrel and a precarious truce is declared +in the dining-room. To Crofts that was a temple for +peace and perfect ceremony. There flourished the genius +for self-effacement and the invisible, inaudible provision +of whatever might be needed, that made service a high +art, a priesthood.</p> + +<p>Crofts, in his plain black, slightly obsolete evening dress, +looking rather like a poor relation than a servant, had been +in his day an aristocrat among servants. To-night he +was old and alarmed. He had seen, when he announced +the dinner, that he broke in upon some unusually desperate +conflict, and his old heart fluttered with terror. +He had heard so much gossip at the servants' table, such +ribald comment and interchange of eavesdroppings, that he +wondered what new stain threatened the old glory of Enslee.</p> + +<p>He loved the new Mrs. Enslee. All the servants did—as +much as they disliked Mr. Enslee. But they all felt +that she was as dangerous in the house as a panther +would have been in a wicker cage. And they all gossiped +with other people's servants. And one of the maids, on +her evenings off, was meeting a very attentive gentleman +with brindle hair and half an eyebrow. She didn't know +his business, but he was generous; he took her to tango-places, +and he loved to hear her talk about her employers.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Suddenly Crofts lifted his head and threw Roake and +Chedsey a glance of warning; they came to attention, +each behind a chair, watching with narrow eyes where +Persis slowly descended, as into a gorgeous dungeon, the +three velveted steps leading down through the red-velvet-curtained +golden portal.</p> + +<p>First they saw Persis' slipper, a golden slipper on a +slim, gold-silk stocking. Next the gleaming shaft of her +white-satin skirt, with its wrinkles flashing and folding +round her knees; and then a rose-colored mist with glints +of gold spangles; a few flowers fastened at her waist; the +double loop of a long rope of pearls; then her wide, white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> +bosom, with half the breasts revealed in the deep V between. +And next her shoulders; her long throat, passionate +and bare save for one coil of pearl-rope; and then her +high-held, resolute chin; her grim, red lips; her tense +nostrils; her downcast eyelids; her brows; and, finally, +the crown of diamonds sparkling in her hair.</p> + +<p>Her velvet-muffled footsteps grew faintly audible as +her heels advanced with a soft tick-tock across the black-and-white +chessboard of the marble floor. There was +such a hush in the room that even her soft, short train +made a whispering sound as it followed reluctantly after +her.</p> + +<p>Then Enslee's glistening black shoes appeared on the +steps; his short legs; the black-rimmed bay of white +waistcoat and shirt, and tie, and the high, choking collar, +where his fat little head rested like a ball on a gate-post.</p> + +<p>In the rich gloaming of the big room the table waited, a +little altar alight and very beautiful with its lace and +glass and silver and its candles gleaming upon strewn roses.</p> + +<p>Overhead the massive chandeliers hung dark from an +ornate ceiling powdered with dull Roman gold. It was +illuminated now only by the fretful glow of the fire slumbering +beneath the carved mantel ravished from a bishop's +palace in Spain.</p> + +<p>In such a scene the audience of three servants awaited +the performance of the polite comedy by the farceur and +farceuse, who would pretend to leave their personal tragedies +in the wings. The actors made their entrance with +a processional formality, faced each other, and were about +to be seated in the chairs the men had drawn back a +little.</p> + +<p>But the dignity vanished when the male buffoon, +glancing at the array before him, broke out with a sharp +whine:</p> + +<p>"Where's my cocktail?"</p> + +<p>There was such a twang of temper in his voice that +Crofts heard at once, and made a quick effort at placation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very sorry, sir, but, the other servants being away, +I was not able to learn just how you had it mixed, sir."</p> + +<p>"Just my luck!" Enslee snarled. "When I need a +bracer most I can't have one." He shook his head so impatiently +that Persis foresaw calamity and hastened to +intervene.</p> + +<p>"Let me make it for you, dear."</p> + +<p>Enslee threw her an ugly glance, and wanted to refuse, +but could find no reason to give except the truth: that +he hated to accept any more of her ministrations. And +truth was the one thing that must be kept from these +menials at all cost. So he said:</p> + +<p>"Mighty nice of you."</p> + +<p>Persis went to the vast sideboard, and, while Crofts +fussed about her, handing her the shaker, the ice, and +bottle after bottle, she prepared the cup as if it were a +mystic philter of love. She poured each ingredient into +one of the glasses, and held it up to the light to make sure +of the measure; then she emptied its contents into the +shaker and filled it again from another bottle; and so +when the square, squat flagon of gin, the longnecks of +Italian and of French vermouth, and the flask of bitters, +had contributed each its quota, she pondered aloud:</p> + +<p>"That's all, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Willie, who had strolled to the sideboard in a kind of +loathing fascination, spoke up:</p> + +<p>"Here, barkeeper, you're forgetting the absinthe."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," she said, recalling his particular among the +numberless formulas—"six drops of absinthe and twelve +drops of lemon."</p> + +<p>Crofts passed her the absinthe, and, finding a lemon, +sliced it across and handed it to her on a plate. She +held it over the shaker and, squeezing, counted the drops.</p> + +<p>"Nine, ten, eleven, twelve—oh, there went the thirteenth! +That's a bad omen." She was so overwrought +that a little genuine fear troubled her. Enslee felt it, too, +but would frighten the bogie with indifference:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hang the omen, so long as the cocktail's not bad."</p> + +<p>Persis nodded with a difficult smile, and, setting the +top on the shaker, said:</p> + +<p>"Now, Crofts."</p> + +<p>The old man was so slow and so feeble with his agitation +that she snatched the shaker from his hand and +shook it herself, the ice clacking merrily. Then she lifted +off the top and poured the cold amber through the strainer +into the two glasses and dried her chilled hands on a +napkin.</p> + +<p>Willie was too eager for the stimulus to go back to the +table and take the cocktail there. He lifted his glass.</p> + +<p>"We'll take it standing at the bar." And he reached +for an imaginary foot-rail, as he had seen the vaudeville +comedians do. Persis laughed, and he laughed, but +sorrily. Still another idea occurred to him in his determination +to enact domestic bliss.</p> + +<p>"And now what's the toast? To the absent one?"</p> + +<p>The ghastly patness of this unnerved him, but Persis +came to the rescue with, "Toasts are out of date." And +Willie, setting the glass to his lips, guzzled it in that +chewing way they had never been able to correct in +him since his infancy. Persis stood a moment with a +far-off look of fierce regret in her eyes, then drained her +glass swiftly and dabbed her rouged lips with her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Crofts held out a little tray, and Willie set his glass +down so hard that the stem cracked. He gave Crofts +the blame in a sullen look, then went back to the table +and sat in the chair that Roake pushed under him.</p> + +<p>He was up again instantly with another complaint. +Willie was by nature one of the tribe of waiter-worriers. +In his present tension he was doubly irascible.</p> + +<p>"Where the devil is my cushion?" he barked. "You +know I can't carve without my cushion."</p> + +<p>The cushion was whisked under him instantly.</p> + +<p>He stabbed at his canapé of caviar with his fork as if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span> +he hated it, ate but a morsel of it, and turned aside in +his chair. Persis, watching him with anxious eyes, gave +Crofts a command in a glance, and the plates were removed +and replaced with oysters, the men bringing everything +to the table, but Crofts alone serving their Majesties.</p> + +<p>Crofts was senile and slow, and unusually aspen with +anxiety and the rebukes he had had. His deliberation +was maddening to Enslee. The old-fashioned deference +of Crofts' manner was only further irritation.</p> + +<p>Persis' own heart was wretched enough with its load of +shame; she was hard put to it to sit and smile at the husband +who had caught her in the arms of her paramour +and heard him casting her off. But she had that social +understanding of the actor's creed that the show must go +on to the last curtain, no matter what had preceded it, +or what might happen between the acts, or what might +follow. She was certain of only one thing, that she and +Willie must sit out this dinner somehow.</p> + +<p>The entr'actes in the solemn mummery were the spaces +between the courses while the servants left the room for +a few moments to bring on the next thing.</p> + +<p>When the caviar had been nibbled and rejected, the +oysters set down and refused without being tasted, the +two men went into the pantry for the soup-tureen and the +hot plates. The swinging door oscillated with little puffs +of air like sneers, and a breath ran around the tapestries +hung on the walls. Ripples went through them in shudders, +and, as the wrinkles traveled, averted faces seemed to +turn and glance quickly at the Enslees, then turn away +again.</p> + +<p>With all the surreptition possible Crofts and his lieutenants +brought in the silver urn and the ladle and the +plates, and set them down on the serving-table behind +the screen of Spanish leather with its glowing landscape +and its gilded sky.</p> + +<p>But Enslee's raw nerves shrieked at the soft thud of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span> +plate on tray, the infinitesimal click of ladle on tureen, +the very endeavor not to make a sound. He fidgeted, +bit his knuckles, wrung his hands out like damp cloths, +played a tattoo on the arm of his chair, and passed his +hand wildly across his eyes. At length he whirled, and +shouted:</p> + +<p>"In God's name, less noise! Less noise!"</p> + +<p>Crofts turned to bow and made a trifle more noise. +And when he took the plate from Roake's tray and set it +before Enslee his hand trembled perilously. It was Enslee's +favorite soup, a luscious <i>purée Mongole</i>. He lifted +one spoonful now to his lips and put it away with disgust. +His ignominy was so vile that it sickened his stomach. +He had been told that his wife was unfaithful to him; he +had found it true; he had wrought himself to a frenzy of +revenge upon the destroyer of his home; but the lover, +instead of leaping from the window like the typical man +of guilt, had taken the husband's weapon from him, +denounced the wife, and left the wrecked home in +triumph.</p> + +<p>Enslee had endured all these disgraces; why should +he add one more? Why should he play a part before his +own menials? Why should he care what they thought? +None the less, as mutinous soldiers keep the line automatically, +so a lifetime of paying devotion to the ordinances +of etiquette held him to the mark now.</p> + +<p>Seeing that Persis had not even made a pretense of +lifting her spoon to her lips, he nodded to Crofts, "Take +it away."</p> + +<p>The failure of a dinner was a catastrophe to Crofts, +and he forgot his wonted reticence enough to ask:</p> + +<p>"Isn't it good, sir? Sha'n't I tell the chef to—"</p> + +<p>His solicitude brought him only a reproof:</p> + +<p>"Crofts, if you speak again I'll have the other servants +serve the dinner. Take it away, I said."</p> + +<p>Hurt and frightened, Crofts hurried the soup and its +apparatus off. As he slipped out with his aides the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span> +swinging door went "Phew!" and the tapestried figures +glanced and whispered together.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was alone with his wife, Enslee's voice +rose querulously:</p> + +<p>"If Dobbs ever leaves us in the lurch again I'll fire +him for keeps. This old fool gets on my nerves. Everything +is going wrong here. The whole house is falling +to rack and ruin. Ought at least to have decent servants—if +I can't have a decent wife!"</p> + +<p>Persis smiled patiently at this, but as with lips bruised +from a blow.</p> + +<p>"I trust, Willie, that you won't forget yourself. All +these doors have ears, you know."</p> + +<p>"You bet they have!" he snapped. "And eyes, too. +Are you crazy enough to think that lowering our voices +will conceal the truth from any one? Don't you realize +that those hounds out there know everything that +goes on in this house? Don't you understand that +your good name and my honor were gossiped away +down-stairs long before my dishonor became public +property?"</p> + +<p>Persis felt a panic in her own heart at his manner. +Still she tried suasion. "I implore you to postpone this. +At any moment Crofts will be back."</p> + +<p>"Crofts, eh?" Willie shouted. "Crofts! Crofts will +be back! Why, do you imagine for a moment that even +that deaf old relic is ignorant of this intrigue you have +carried on? Don't you know that every servant of ours +that has left the house for weeks has carried through the +area-gate a bundle of news and innuendo and suspicion +and keyhole information, to be scattered broadcast in +every servants' hall in town?"</p> + +<p>And then he heard Crofts at the door, and in spite of +him habit throttled him; he pulled down the comic mask +he had pushed back from his dour face. He ransacked +his brain for something humorous to serve as a libretto, +and he was reminded of a story he had laughed at heartily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> +before he learned that his own household was a theme for +laughter.</p> + +<p>He began to giggle uncannily, gruesomely. Persis +looked at him, wondering if he had gone mad and begun +to gibber. But while Crofts and the others served deviled +crabs in their grotesque shells he began to explain his +elation, overacting sadly:</p> + +<p>"I heard the best story to-day about Mrs. Tom +Corliss."</p> + +<p>Forgetfully Persis, from her own glass house, protested: +"Oh, don't tell me anything about that woman!"</p> + +<p>Enslee sneered. "Oh, you're always so easily shocked—such +a prude, so conventional!"</p> + +<p>Persis understood and blanched. "Go on, I'll stand +it."</p> + +<p>Enslee began to snicker again, taking some support in +his shame from another man's disgrace.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know old plutocrat Crane?"</p> + +<p>"Not old Deacon Crane," Persis gasped, "that passes +the plate at church?"</p> + +<p>Willie nodded.</p> + +<p>"What can he have to do with any story about Mrs. +Tom?"</p> + +<p>Enslee he-he'd. "That's the fun of it. Mrs. Tom, it +seems—one day when Tom was off to the races—entertained +the dear Deacon at a little dinner—served <i>à deux</i>. +The Deacon used to give her tips on the market and back +them himself for her, and she—well, he was talking about +the present-day craze for dancing with bare feet, <i>et +cetera</i>; and she vowed that she wasn't ashamed of her feet +either; and so she made the Deacon play Mendelssohn's +Spring Song on the pianola, and—"</p> + +<p>He looked up to find that Chedsey, while pretending to +be very busy at the sideboard, wore a smile that extended +almost into the ear he perked round for the gossip. Willie +choked on his own laughter, and roared:</p> + +<p>"Chedsey, leave the room, and don't come back!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span></p> + +<p>Chedsey slunk away, and Roake became a statue of +gravity. Crofts had not heard at all. Willie finished his +story without mirth.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, Tom Corliss came in unexpectedly just then, +and—well, when the Deacon finally got home his wife +met him in the hall; he told her he had been sandbagged +by a footpad; and she believed him!"</p> + +<p>Willie found Tom Corliss' shame so piquant that he +began to relish his food. Crofts, a little encouraged, +nodded to Roake and led him out for the next dish.</p> + +<p>Persis took small comfort from other people's sordid +scandals. They seemed to have no relation to the pure +and high tragedy that had ended the romance of her own +love. Seeing that they were alone again, she expressed +her dislike before she realized its inconsistency.</p> + +<p>"And where did you pick up all this garbage?"</p> + +<p>Enslee was outraged at this ingratitude for his hard +work. "Oh, it shocks you, eh? So beautiful a veneer of +refinement and so thin!"</p> + +<p>"Where did you hear it?" Persis persisted, lighting herself +a cigarette to give her restless hands employment; +and Willie answered:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Corliss' second man told it to Mrs. Neff's kitchen +maid, and she to Mrs. Neff's maid, and she to Mrs. +Neff; and Mrs. Neff to Jimmie Chives, and he to me—at +the Club."</p> + +<p>"At the Club?"</p> + +<p>"Where I heard of your behavior."</p> + +<p>"You heard of me at the Club?" Persis gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that crowning disgrace was reserved for me. +Big Bob Fielding took me to one side and said: 'Willie, +everybody in town knows something that you ought to +be the first to know—and seem to be the last. I hate to +tell you, but somebody ought to,' he said. And I said +'What's all that?' And he said: 'Your wife and Captain +Forbes are a damned sight better friends,' he said, 'than +the law allows,' he said."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span></p> + +<p>The room swam, and Persis clung to her chair to keep +from toppling out of it.</p> + +<p>"So that's what he said. And what did you say?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't believe him—then. I was too big a fool to +believe him; but he opened my eyes, and I came home to +see what was going on. And I saw!"</p> + +<p>Persis was on fire with a woman's anxiety to know if +any champion had defended her name. She demanded +again:</p> + +<p>"What did you say to Bob Fielding?"</p> + +<p>And Enslee answered with a helpless, mincing burlesque +of dignity:</p> + +<p>"I told him he was a cad, and I didn't want him ever +to speak to me again."</p> + +<p>"And you didn't strike him?"</p> + +<p>Enslee cast up his eyes at the thought of attacking the +famous center-rush; then he lowered his eyes before her +blazing contempt. She demanded again, incredulously: +"You didn't strike him?"</p> + +<p>Enslee dropped his face into his two palms and wept, +the tears leaking through his fingers. Persis felt outlawed +even from chivalry. She gagged at the thought: "Agh! +The humiliation!"</p> + +<p>Enslee lifted his head again, his wet eyes flashing. +"Humiliation?" he screeched, in a frenzy of self-pity. +"Do you talk of humiliation? What about me? My +father and mother brought me into the world with a +small frame and a poor constitution. They left me money +as a compensation. And what did my money do for me? +It bought me a woman—who despised me—who dishonored +me before the world. And I'm too weak to take +revenge. I'm helpless in my disgrace, helpless!"</p> + +<p>He sobbed like a lonely girl, his eyes hid in the crook +of his left arm, his elbow on the table, his little hand +clenching and unclenching. His tears brought tears to +Persis. It was the first time she had ever felt sorry for +Willie; had ever realized that a weak man does not select<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span> +his weaknesses, though he must endure their consequences. +She had often justified herself by the plea that she had not +chosen her own soul, but must get along with it. That +defense was her husband's, too.</p> + +<p>The swinging door thudded softly, and Willie raised +himself in his chair, but he could not quell the buffets of +his sobs, and he dared not put his handkerchief to his eyes. +And so Crofts, bending close to remove the crab-shells, +noted the grief-crumpled face and the drench of tears; +his mind went back to the time when Willie Enslee was a +child and wept in a high chair in his nursery. Before he +could suppress it the old man had let slip the query:</p> + +<p>"Why, Master Willie, you're not crying?"</p> + +<p>Willie, with splendid presence of mind, answered:</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, you old fool, it's that deviled crab. There +was so much cayenne pepper in it, it w-went to my eyes."</p> + +<p>Crofts was desolated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sorry, sir. The chef shall hear of it, sir. +And the roast now—shall I carve it, or will you?"</p> + +<p>Willie looked drearily across at Persis. "Do you want +any roast?"</p> + +<p>She frowned with aversion. "I couldn't touch it."</p> + +<p>And Willie shook his head to Crofts. "We'll skip the +roast. What follows that? Be quick about it!"</p> + +<p>Crofts lowered his voice, as if a game-warden might be +listening, for it was after the season had closed. "There +is a pheasant, sir—sent down from your own run, sir. It +is braised, <i>financière</i>. I'm sure you'll like it. You may +have to wait a little, seeing as you didn't eat the roast; +but it's worth waiting for, sir."</p> + +<p>The old man was pleading both for the honor of his +menu and for the welfare of his master. Willie nodded +curtly, and the roast, that had ridden in so royally on its +silver palanquin with its retinue of cutlery and its hot +plates, was removed in disgrace.</p> + +<p>Once more husband and wife were abandoned to themselves. +But now Persis looked with new eyes at the heap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span> +of misery collapsed in the opposite chair. All these years +Willie had tried to win her love with gifts, with splendors, +with caresses, prayers, compliments, and with weak experiments +in tyranny. And he had failed dismally. Finally +his failure and his shame had crushed him into abjection.</p> + +<p>And now her heart went out to him with a melting tenderness. +But now she was unworthy to approach him. +Now it was she that must plead:</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully sorry for you, Willie. You haven't had +a fair deal. I never realized what a rotter I've been till +now. But if you'll let me, I'll try again; I'll try hard, +really, honestly, Willie. The only man I ever seemed to +care for has taken himself out of my life. He hates me as +you hate me. I haven't much of anything to live for +now except to try to square things with you. I'll do better +by you. I'll be on the level with you after this. +Honestly I will. We'll find happiness yet."</p> + +<p>"Happiness!"</p> + +<p>Even at this belated hour the world's ambition was so +dear to him that he was wrung with longing.</p> + +<p>"It might have been possible if I hadn't found you out. +I was a fool to trust you so blindly, but I was a happy fool. +I didn't know how happy I was till I learned how unhappy +I can be. Oh, Persis, how could you—how could you? +You seemed so clean and so cold and so proud, and you've +let that man make as big a fool of you as you've made of +me."</p> + +<p>She took her lashings meekly, hoping thereby to achieve +some atonement. "I know, I know," she confessed. "But +we can keep other people from knowing. We don't have +to tell all the world, do we?"</p> + +<p>Again the vision of stalking gossip enraged him. "The +world—ha! It always knows everything before the husband +suspects anything. I've said that about so many +other fools I've known. Now it's my turn. Here we sit at +dinner in this ruined home as if everything were all right. +Think of it! After what I saw and heard I'm sitting here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span> +trying to persuade a pack of flunkeys that you have been +a good wife to me!"</p> + +<p>"It's hideous, I know, Willie. I'll go away to-morrow. +You can divorce me if you want to. I won't resist. It +will be horrible to drag your name through the yellow +papers. But I won't resist—unless you think you might +let our life run along as before until gossip has starved +to death? We'll be no worse than the rest, Willie. Every +family has its skeleton in the closet. The worst gossips +have the worst skeletons. Let's fight it out together, +Willie, won't you? Please!"</p> + +<p>She stretched one importunate hand across the table to +him, but he stared at her with glazed eyes. "And go on +like this the rest of our lives? Sitting at table like this +every day, facing each other and knowing what we know? +Knowing what other people know of us? Keep up the +ghastly pretense till we grow old?"</p> + +<p>She drew back her rejected hand with a sigh, but +pleaded on: "It's not very pretty, that's true; but let's +be good sports and play the game. We tried marriage +without love, for you knew I didn't really love you, Willie. +You knew it and complained of it. But you married me. +I tried to do what was right. I ran away from him in +France, and I tried to love you and unlove him. But you +can't turn your heart like a wheel, you know. We've +married and failed. But nearly everybody else has failed +one way or another, Willie. Nobody gets what he wants +out of life. Let's play the game through. You said to +me once—do you remember?—you said, 'Gad, Persis, but +you're a good loser.' And I've lost a little, too, Willie. +I've had a pretty hard day of it, too. Let's be good losers, +Willie; let's try it again, won't you? Won't you, please?"</p> + +<p>She sat with hands clasped, and thrust them out to him +and prayed to him as if he were an ugly little idol. But +contrition did not seem to render her more attractive in +his eyes. It hardened his heart against her.</p> + +<p>"When I look at you I can only think what you've been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span> +to that man; where you've gone, what you've done. You +sit there half naked now, ready to go to the opera, to +expose your body before the mob—my body—my wife's +body. You show it in public—and you dance it in public +with anybody—with him! The first time you saw him +you were dressed like that, and you danced with him that +loathsome tango. You taught him how. And he has +taught you how to be his wife—not mine.</p> + +<p>"You've set everybody laughing at me. They're all +saying I was a blind, infatuated fool before. Now you +want them to fasten that filthy word 'complacent' on +me. You want me to overlook what you have done and +what you've brought me to. I'm just to say: 'Well, +Persis, you've had your lover and your fling, and you're +tired of each other, so come home and welcome, and don't +worry over what's past. It's a mere trifle not worth discussing. +What's the Seventh Commandment between +friends?"</p> + +<p>She was trying to silence him, but he had not heeded +the return of Crofts till the pheasant was placed before +him in all its garnishment, and the plates and the carving-fork +and the small game-knife. He was ashamed, not of +what he had said of her, but of his own excitement.</p> + +<p>"Is the knife sharp?" he asked, for lack of other topic.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir," said Crofts. "I steeled it myself."</p> + +<p>Willie began anew, groping in his tormented brain for +something to dispel the silence. The result was a dazed +query:</p> + +<p>"By the way, my dear, what's the opera to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Carmen," she said.</p> + +<p>He brightened. "Oh, of course. That's the opera +where the fellow kills the girl who betrays him, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"With a knife like this, eh?" And with a fierce absent-mindedness +he made a quick slash in the air. The +knife was small and curved a little, and it fitted his hand +like a dagger. He chuckled enviously. "Ah, he was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span> +wise boy, that Don José. He knew how to treat faithless +women. He knew how to talk to 'em. A knife in the +back—that's all they can understand."</p> + +<p>Crofts was too anxiously trying to avoid spilling a drop +of the wine he was pouring to heed the warning gestures +of Persis. She felt that the breaking-point of Willie's +self-control had been reached. She must dismiss the +audience. She spoke hastily:</p> + +<p>"Willie, my dear—my dear! Won't you send for some +champagne—or sherry. I hate this red wine, and, besides, +we've skipped the roast."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," Willie agreed, with abrupt calm. "Crofts, +down in the—er—wine-cellar in the farthest end—you'll +find laid away by itself one bottle of—er—L'Âme de +Rheims—one bottle, the last of its ancient and—er—honorable +name. Bring that here."</p> + +<p>As Crofts stumbled out on his long journey, Willie commented, +ominously:</p> + +<p>"It's a good time to say good-by to that vintage!"</p> + +<p>His roving eyes discovered Roake standing aloof. +Willie snapped his fingers and yelped at him:</p> + +<p>"Get out! And stay out!"</p> + +<p>Roake withdrew in haste, and Enslee muttered:</p> + +<p>"I'm sick of seeing so many people standing around, +staring, smirking, listening, thinking about me. I wish +I were on a desert island."</p> + +<p>He sat forward to the pheasant, set the fork into it, +and paused with the knife motionless. Suddenly there +were beads of sweat on his forehead, and he was panting +hard; then he groaned:</p> + +<p>"My God, he took my revolver away from me!"</p> + +<p>His eyelids seemed to squeeze his eyes in anguish. When +he opened them they were bloodshot and so fierce that +they seemed to be crossed. He laughed.</p> + +<p>"I was too weak to kill your soldier. But I think I'm +just about strong enough to pay you up. Carmen got her +reward with a knife, and you're no better than she was."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span></p> + +<p>He looked at the knife; it was beautifully sharp, and it +inspired a desire to use it. As a man seeing a gun wants +to fire it at something, he felt the call to employ this +implement. He pushed back his chair, rose, and groped +his way round the table toward her, all crouched and +prowling.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LXVIII" id="CHAPTER_LXVIII"></a>CHAPTER LXVIII</h2> + + +<p class="cap">PERSIS watched him come, and did not move. It +was unbelievable that disaster should fall to such as +her from such as him in such a way. He was evidently +only playing a part to frighten her.</p> + +<p>She blew a puff of smoke from her cigarette and fanned +it away with leisure, and smiled.</p> + +<p>"You'd look well, now, wouldn't you, if one of the servants +came in?"</p> + +<p>She laughed at the picture.</p> + +<p>"You're laughing at me again!" he groaned. "You're +always laughing at me. But you won't feel so funny +with this knife in you."</p> + +<p>She saw now that he was not fooling. But she despised +him for his effort to prove his bravery by a cowardice, +and she eyed him with a marble calm worthy of a nobler +cause and a better reward.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Willie, and don't threaten me. You don't +frighten me at all. But you may alarm some of the servants +and give them more of that gossip you have harped +on so much."</p> + +<p>Her obstinate pluck bewildered him, but he lowered his +voice as he commented to some imaginary spectator: +"My God! she has no higher thought than that! Even +now when death stares her in the face!" Then he had a +fanatic's mercy for her. "Why aren't you saying your +prayers, you fool?"</p> + +<p>She answered him with all the authority she could +command:</p> + +<p>"Put down that knife! Put it down, I say! You know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span> +I could save myself from any danger by raising my voice. +And you know I'd rather die than bring the servants in +on such a scene."</p> + +<p>"A scene!" he shrieked. "A scene! Why, woman, +I'm going to kill you. Don't you understand anything? +You've only got a minute more to live. Say your prayers! +Damn you! say your prayers!"</p> + +<p>There was an insanity in his look that frightened her +at last. She tried persuasion now, and her voice was soft +and caressing.</p> + +<p>"Gently, Willie; gently now, I beg you. You're not +yourself, you know. You must control yourself. Please!—as +a favor to me."</p> + +<p>It was the wrong word. It maddened him, and he +snarled: "As a favor to you? You dare ask favors of me? +Go ask 'em of the man you've given favors to! The man? +The men!"</p> + +<p>And this was sacrilege to her one love. Her lip curled +in angry contempt, and she turned from him in loathing, +muttering:</p> + +<p>"You dirty little beast!"</p> + +<p>It was his muscles rather than his mind that did it. +While his mind was recoiling from the insult his arm had +struck out, and the knife had slid deep in the snow of her +half-averted left breast; through the petal of a rose, and +the satin gown, and the deep white flesh beneath it, and on +into the wall of her struggling heart.</p> + +<p>The blow and her effort to escape flung her backward, +but the heavy chair held her. Before she could remember +a wild scream broke from her lips.</p> + +<p>As Enslee fell back his hand withdrew the knife. It +came out all red. He gaped at it and shuddered, and it +fell with a little clatter on the marble floor, flinging a few +crimson drops on the black-and-white.</p> + +<p>The noise startled him, and he retreated from her, clinging +to the edge of the table. He felt queasy, and pushed +back till he felt his chair and dropped into it—still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span> +staring at her and wondering, and she wondering at +him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i480" name="i480"></a> +<img src="images/i480.jpg" alt="" /> +<p class="caption">HER OBSTINATE PLUCK BEWILDERED HIM</p> + +</div> + + + +<p>It seemed a long time before her cry brought any response. +Chedsey was in the cellar with Crofts and heard +no sound, but Roake was in the pantry. He paused a +moment, not trusting his ears, then he pushed the door +open slightly and peered through. Other servants came +crowding into the pantry whispering and jostling. He +motioned them back.</p> + +<p>His master and mistress were in their places. Mrs. +Enslee looked pale and was lying back in her chair. He +slipped through the door and spoke timidly:</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, ma'am; but did you call?"</p> + +<p>Persis, at the sound of the door, finding her fan still in +her hand, had instantly spread it across her wound. And +her first impulse was to deny.</p> + +<p>"No," she answered; then quickly: "Yes, I—I am ill—a +little—suddenly. Telephone for Doctor—Doctor—the +nearest doctor. You'd better run."</p> + +<p>He turned to obey, but paused to ask:</p> + +<p>"Isn't there anything I can do first, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"No, go! Go!" she fluttered.</p> + +<p>"Sha'n't I send some one else while I am gone, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; keep them all away, all of them, till I ring."</p> + +<p>Roake, with a face like ashes, still waited, staring.</p> + +<p>"But, ma'am, you are hurt! You are bleeding!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" she stormed. "I spilled some claret on +my fan. The doctor! Will you never go?" And he ran +out through the jumble of servants, ordering them back +to their stations.</p> + +<p>And then Nichette came stumbling through the golden +portal. She had heard the cry above, and had understood +the pain and terror in it, and had run pell-mell +down the great stairs, her hand whistling on the marble +balustrade.</p> + +<p>She paused now, clinging to one of the red curtains, +and stammering:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>Madame, Madame! qu'y a-t-il? qu'avez-vous?</i>"</p> + +<p>Persis turned her head dolefully toward the face so +wild with anxiety for her sake, and murmured, with a smile +of affection and a tender form of speech:</p> + +<p>"<i>C'est toi, Nichette? Ce n'est rien, mais—mais</i>"—A +shiver ran through her. "<i>Je sentis des frissons. Va +faire mon lit. Je me vais coucher.</i>"</p> + +<p>Nichette came forward unconvinced or to help her, but +she motioned her off with a frantic hand, crying impatiently, +"<i>Dépêche-toi! veux-tu te dépêcher!</i>"</p> + +<p>And Nichette, mutinously obedient, ran away, leaving +Persis shivering indeed with a chill.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>And now husband and wife were alone once more. And +Willie could only stare and murmur, vacuously:</p> + +<p>"What have I done? What have I done?"</p> + +<p>"You've killed me, that's all," she answered, with a +curious amusement. "It was such a funny thing for you +to do, so old-fashioned."</p> + +<p>There is a strange fact about wounds in the heart. If +they are not so deep that they flood the lungs and smother +out life they inspire a wild desire to talk, a fluttering +garrulity.</p> + +<p>So Persis, now, with that madly stitching shuttle in her +breast, and that red seepage from her side, had unnumbered +things to say. She chattered desperately, disjointedly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose it had to come. It's what I get for +trying to run things my own way. And now the tango-shop's +closed up. But it's so funny that you should be +the one to—and with a knife! You didn't mar my face, +anyway. I thank you for that much. I'd hate to have +my face hidden at the funeral. I should hate to make an +ugly cor—"</p> + +<p>Her lips refused the awful word as a thing unclean, +abominable. Her body and all the voluptuous company +of her senses felt panic-stricken at the thought of dissolution. +She moaned and struggled with her chair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, no, not that! What have I to do with death? +I'm not ready to die. I'm not ready to die."</p> + +<p>Willie got up and ran to her left side, but shrank back +from what was there, and moved cautiously round on +the slippery floor, crying: "You're too beautiful to die, +too beautiful! You'll not die! The doctors will save +you!"</p> + +<p>"They must come very soon, then," Persis said, "for +I'm bleeding—oh, so fast." She looked down along her +side and complained: "See, my gown is quite ruined. And +it was such a pretty gown. I'm afraid of my blood. How +it gushes! Will it never stop? And it hurts! Willie, it +hurts!"</p> + +<p>In a long writhe of pain she gathered the table-cloth +about her left side as if to stanch its flow. There was a +rattle of falling glasses and a chink of tumbled silver as +she moaned: "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" +And she turned her head this way and that, panting as +one pursued, bewildered, utterly at a loss. "Oh, what +shall I do? I don't want to die. It's an awful thing to +die—just now of all times, with no chance to make good +the wrong I've done."</p> + +<p>"You can't die; I won't let you die. You're too beautiful +to die," Willie protested, and then turned to pleading: +"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to strike you, Persis, +at all. It was just my hand. It wasn't me that stabbed +you, Persis. I couldn't hurt you, Persis."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, Willie. I understand. I understand +things better now, with so few minutes more to live. +It is you that must forgive me. I haven't been a good +wife to you, Willie. And he—he, of all men!—said I +wasn't worth fighting for! Faithless to you—faithless to +him! But oh, God knows, most faithless to myself. And +now I must die for it."</p> + +<p>"You are too beautiful to die! I won't let you die! +You can't die!"</p> + +<p>"But I must, boy. Don't hate me too much. I didn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> +mean to harm you. Some day—long after—you'll forgive +me, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you only won't die I'll forgive you anything."</p> + +<p>"That's awfully nice of you, Willie," she said, with almost +a smile. "I wonder if God will be as polite? They—they +usually pray for dying people, don't they? I'm +afraid they'll never get a doctor in time, to say nothing +of a preacher. So you'd better pray for me, Willie."</p> + +<p>The idea was so ridiculously tragic that she laughed; +but he would not so far surrender her as to pray. He +sobbed:</p> + +<p>"You've got to live! I don't know a single prayer. +You mustn't die, I tell you. You've got to live!" And +he wept his little heart out as he knelt at her side, and, +clinging to her hand, mumbled it with kisses.</p> + +<p>She wept, too; moaned, and dreaded the black Beyond, +which she must voyage prayerless. Still she must talk. +From her silence came a frail, thin voice like a far-off +cry.</p> + +<p>"It's growing very dark, Willie—very dark! And I'm +drifting, I wonder where? Can you hear my voice away +off there? Better throw me a kiss, and wish me bon +voyage! for this—is the last—of Persis. Poor Persis!"</p> + +<p>Something of old habit reminded her of the gossip that +would break into storm at her death. This spurred her +heart to strive again. She clutched at the table and at +Willie's arm and shoulder, and held herself erect as with +claws, while she babbled:</p> + +<p>"Willie, Willie, I've just thought. They'll try you for—for +murder. The newspapers—the newspapers! Oh, +my poor father! And they'll put you in jail! That +mustn't happen to you—not to one of your family!—not +through me!—no—no, it just mustn't! You must run—run—run!"</p> + +<p>Enslee shivered at the future, and would have fled if +he could have found the strength to rise from his knees.</p> + +<p>And then the swinging door puffed softly, sardonically,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span> +and on the tapestries Tristram and Isoud looked at each +other and then at her and shook their heads in pity.</p> + +<p>Crofts, who had neither heard nor been told, came in +with that eminent champagne in a dingy and ancient +bottle.</p> + +<p>He went behind the screen to untwist the wires and rub +away the spider-webs. Then he came forward toward +Willie's place to pour the first few drops there, according +to the rite, before he filled Persis' glass. He had eased out +the cork, and the soul of the wine was frothing forth into +the swathing cloth when he blinked at the empty chair; +then his eyes went across to Persis. He stared at her in +mute amazement. She stared at him. She beckoned.</p> + +<p>He put the bottle on the table and shuffled toward her.</p> + +<p>She motioned him nearer with a limp and tremulous +hand, and he bent down to hear her tiny voice.</p> + +<p>"Crofts, come closer—listen to me—do you hear?" +He nodded. "Perfectly?" He nodded, wringing his dry +old hands.</p> + +<p>"Well," she began, "I must tell you—and you must +remember. Mr. Enslee and I had a—a little quarrel—and +I—I lost my temper—you know—and seized the +knife and—and stabbed myself."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The old man did nothing unbecoming to his caste, but +he stood doddering and longed to die in place of that +beautiful youth. She beckoned him nearer again, and +spoke in a strangled voice: "Remember, I did it—myself! +Re-mem—"</p> + +<p>Her head fell forward, her exquisite chin rested in her +bosom. Her body collapsed upon itself, and only the +arms of the chair and the table kept it from rolling out +on the floor.</p> + +<p>But as if even this last ugliness of attitude were intolerable +to her, she fought against the chair and the +table, and pushed and slid backward till her head was +erect. And she was whispering courage to herself, hoarsely:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come—come—Persis!"</p> + +<p>She seemed to be trying to die like a thoroughbred, a +good loser.</p> + +<p>And then her head rolled back in the billows of her +hair, with the jeweled crown pointing downward and her +eyes staring upward. Her wan, pouting, parted lips and +the long arch of her perfect throat were themselves a +prayer for mercy, offering up beauty as its own undoing +and its own excuse.</p> + +<p>She was dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_AFTERMATH" id="THE_AFTERMATH"></a>THE AFTERMATH</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + +<p class="cap">WE cannot live to ourselves alone, nor die so. If a man +or a dog crawl off to perish in a wilderness, immediately +death sets in motion a great activity. On the ground +ants muster, flies drum and pound; in the earth worms +make haste upward. On the empty sky a speck appears, +wings gather, buzzards are overhead. In the bushes eyes +peer, paws are lifted and set down with caution; coyotes, +hyenas arrive. A city of scavengery is founded and begins +to flourish.</p> + +<p>Persis had said, "This is the last of Persis." As if +there were ever the last of anybody or anything.</p> + +<p>Of Persis it was almost the beginning. People were to +hear of her now who had never known of her existence. +She who had never done anything ambitious or earnest in +any large sense was to become the cause of world-wide +debate. The newspapers she dreaded so much were to +give her head-lines above panics, wars, and empires.</p> + +<p>When Persis screamed at the horror and the shame of +being knifed, and Roake appeared, and she told him that +she was ill, he believed her. He dispersed the servants. +They knew, as servants always know, that a quarrel had +been raging; but family quarrels were the staple of their +lives, and they suspected nothing unusual.</p> + +<p>Persis had told Roake to call the nearest physician. +The telephone is the confusion of distance; it mixes near +and far hopelessly. So Roake called the family physician, +Dr. Thill; caught him dressing for the opera. He promised +to "be right over."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then Roake went back to give Mrs. Enslee this word. +He found the woeful spectacle of Persis no longer able to +hide her wound, no longer thinking of appearances. Enslee +was on his knees sobbing. Crofts, too good a servant +to express his emotions noisily, had not fallen to the floor +or sunk into a chair; he had turned a little aside and +stood waiting the next command; only, rubbing his hands +together a little harder than usual, while the tears poured +across his eyelids.</p> + +<p>Roake tiptoed to him and put his hand on his arm, +and whispered, "Mr. Crofts."</p> + +<p>Crofts put his finger to his quivering lips and, beckoning +his underling aside, whispered to him: "No word of this +to the rest of the house, mind you. We'd best carry Mrs. +Enslee to her room. Then we must help the master to +his."</p> + +<p>They took Persis' chair by the arms dreadfully; but +Crofts could not lift his share of the weight. It was necessary +to call Chedsey, and to explain things a little to him +and to pledge him to silence for the honor of the house. +He sickened of his burden and nearly fainted in the little +elevator as they crowded into it with their hideously +beautiful freight.</p> + +<p>Nichette had the bed ready, and Enslee's man was +helping her. Also two other chambermaids had gathered +to talk of the scream that had shot through the house. +Nichette banished the men while she took what care she +could of what remained of Persis—so different an office +now from what it had always been to Nichette.</p> + +<p>Crofts told Roake to see to things below, and Roake +and Chedsey went down to the dining-room. Here there +were tasks that were not pleasant. They stared at the +ruined graces of the table, the spilled wine and the red-stained +flowers, the glasses shattered and fallen, as if an +orgy had preceded there. The cook was told that the +rest of the dinner would not be served. The laundress +was called from her supper to take away the red table-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span>cloth +and the napkin. The housekeeper must know +that Roake and Chedsey were not to be charged with +the breakage. The kitchen-maid was sent to scrub the +marble, and on her knees she must follow the crimson +trail to the door of the elevator, and wash that, too.</p> + +<p>Before the doctor arrived a dozen people had been told +that the mistress of the household had killed herself. It +was easy to warn them that loyalty to the family imposed +absolute silence. But what money or what threat or +plea could ever bribe a loose tongue to keep a secret for +somebody else?</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Thill came in his motor. He left his huge fur +coat on the hall floor, and, dashing up-stairs, flung off his +evening coat and his white waistcoat, and rolled back +his cuffs. He wrought upon the exquisite bare flesh of +Persis and upon the stopped clock of her heart with all +his science; yet he could not make her anything but a +cadaver.</p> + +<p>As he toiled he asked questions. Crofts and Nichette +told him what they knew, or thought they knew. Willie +was supported in and questioned. Remorse and fright +made him pitiable. Still there remained a fox-like intelligence. +He told the doctor what Persis had told +Crofts, but he was so full of contradictions and confusion +that Dr. Thill quickly suspected the truth. He was enraged +and revolted. The cruelty of the murder was bad +enough; but the wantonness of destroying so perfect a +machine, as he found Persis to be, was more wicked in +his eyes.</p> + +<p>Still, he was a typical family doctor. People who were +dead were outside his province. His clients were the +living, and his business to keep them alive and well. He +had foiled death-bed revenges, aborted scandals that +threatened ruin to the young; risked his life and his liberty +for his patients. His trade was fighting the ravages +of sin and error; saving people, not destroying them. +He felt no call to deliver an Enslee to the electric chair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span></p> + +<p>He put Willie to bed, jammed bromides into him, and +forbade him to talk or to see any one. He telephoned +Persis' father and Willie's mother to come at once. He +told them as delicately as he could. It was like breaking +a thunderbolt gently. Persis' father was stricken frantic. +He could not believe that his beautiful, his wonderful girl +was dead. He ran to her bedside, lifted her in his arms +as if she were again his little child, called to her, wept +horribly over her, imagined the truth, and vowed every +revenge.</p> + +<p>After the first tempests had worn him out he began to +feel that it would not comfort her to add scandal to her +fate. He loathed the very name of Enslee; but he had +profited by it; he was still involved with it financially; +it was his daughter's final name. He joined the conspiracy +to bury the truth in Persis' grave. To say that she had +killed herself was an appeal for mercy; to proclaim that +her indignant husband had executed her for her crimes was +a damning epitaph. He solaced himself with the thought +that it would be her wish.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Enslee was first and last Willie's mother. Her +thought was of him; her heart was his advocate alone. +She committed herself utterly to his defense.</p> + +<p>Dr. Thill was ready to give a certificate that Persis had +died of heart-failure. Even the story of suicide would +attract the noisy attention of the journals. He left the +matter in abeyance for the moment. The needful thing +was a few hours of saving peace and silence. He would +be glad even to postpone the news from the next morning's +to the next evening's papers.</p> + +<p>But little things thwart great schemes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<p class="cap">ONE of the Enslee housemaids, who had been flirting +with the brindle-haired reporter Hallard, remembered +in the midst of the panic that he was to take her that night +to a moving-picture theater. He would be loitering in the +area now. She ran out bareheaded to explain that she +could not keep her engagement. When he asked why, +she told him falteringly that there had been a death in +the family. She apologized for permitting such an affair +to interfere with her promised evening out, but he gasped:</p> + +<p>"A death in the Enslee family! Gosh, I've spent so +many dismal hours on death-watches that it's great to +have you slip me a nice little ready-made death like this. +Whose was it? Who died?"</p> + +<p>The maid felt that she had a clue now to Mr. Hallard's +profession: from his cheerful reception of such news he +must be an undertaker. She explained that it was Mrs. +Willie Enslee who was dead.</p> + +<p>"My God! the young one?" he cried, afire with the +news possibilities.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she killed herself."</p> + +<p>This was almost too good to be true. Hallard grew +greedy as a miser.</p> + +<p>"Does anybody else know of this? Have any reporters +called at the house?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody; only the doctor."</p> + +<p>Hallard looked at his watch. He had time to build up +a big story, which was good; but there was time enough +for the other papers also to arrive on the ground, which +was bad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why did she kill herself?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows. She had a terrible quar'l with Mr. +Enslee, though."</p> + +<p>"What about?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody could find out."</p> + +<p>Hallard thought hard. The name of Forbes occurred +to him, for he remembered the time he had seen Forbes +with Persis.</p> + +<p>"Did Captain Forbes call to-day?"</p> + +<p>The maid stared. "Ain't you a wonder! How did you +know?"</p> + +<p>"Did they quarrel about him?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows they did, but all of us feels sure they +did."</p> + +<p>Hallard bade his inamorata good night with genuine +affection. She had been worth while.</p> + +<p>He went to the door of the house and reached it just +as Persis' father arrived in his car and was helped up the +steps. Hallard tried to push in with him, but was thrust +out. He sent his card in, and it was returned to +him.</p> + +<p>Dr. Thill threw up his hands in despair at the card. +Reporters seemed to be as ubiquitous as microbes. But +he realized that it was now necessary to make a formal +announcement to the papers. He wrote out for Hallard +a statement, and had the housekeeper telephone it to a +press bureau, that "Mrs. William Enslee, during a period +of mental aberration, committed suicide at her home at +seven-thirty o'clock, in the presence of her husband. Mr. +Enslee is prostrated with the shock." It was a simple +announcement.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Hallard, rebuffed at the front door and at +the tradesman's entrance, and rebuffed by telephone when +he called up from a booth in the nearest drug-store, was +trembling with the opportunities almost within his reach. +His was the ecstasy of the writer of tragedies who exults +in every new horror that he can inflict on his characters.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> +Only, the Hallards are dealing in real lives, and not +feigned.</p> + +<p>Hallard's scent for news quickened at the thought of +Forbes. Easily enough he learned the name of Forbes' +hotel. He hurried there and sent up his card, with a +penciled note: "Would appreciate expert opinion regard +to probable fate Philippine Islands in case of war with +Japan."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE card found Forbes not yet recovered from the +hurricane of passion that had swept through his +heart. He was dumfounded at what he had done and +said; at his ruthless cruelty, his revulsions from love to +hate and back again; at the supreme insolence of his +treatment of the husband he had wronged.</p> + +<p>He found Enslee's little silver-handled revolver in his +pocket and tossed it on the table. He felt that he ought +to turn it against himself in self-execution. It was too +weak an instrument for such a business. He got out his +own big army revolver. But he was not of the type that +is capable of suicide, any more than Persis was.</p> + +<p>He began to pack his things for his return to hard service +away from the frivolities of the city. The sight of his +uniforms made him the soldier once more. He grew homesick +for the brisk salute of his soldiers, the gruff and +wholesome joviality of fellow-officers, the noble reality +of his chosen career.</p> + +<p>And then he came across her boudoir cap again. It +bewitched him. It was so utterly unmilitary, so far from +usefulness or importance, all pliant and fragrant and +adorably foolish. He put it back in its nest in the +pocket next his heart. And his heart quickened its pace.</p> + +<p>With that quickening came by reflex a sense of terror. +What had become of Persis? He had left her to the +mercies of Enslee. It occurred to Forbes that if a man had +dealt with him as he had dealt with Enslee he would be so +maddened that he would run amuck and slay the first +thing he met, and first of all the woman who had dragged +him into such shame below shame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span></p> + +<p>What if Enslee had attacked Persis? Beaten her, or +torn her face with his nails, or hurled her out into the +street? Forbes felt that he must go to her rescue. The +impulse lasted only long enough to be ludicrous. What +right had he in that household? What harm could Enslee +wreak upon Persis to equal the wrongs that Forbes had +done her? He blamed himself for everything, and, blaming +himself, absolved Persis, forgave her, loved her again.</p> + +<p>In this seethe of moods the card of Hallard arrived with +a request for his expert military opinion on a subject that +had been one of his hobbies in the days when military +ambition was the major theme of his life. It renewed +his hope. It was like the feel of something solid underfoot +to a spent swimmer in cross-currents.</p> + +<p>He welcomed Hallard with cordiality, apologized for +the disorder of the room, expressed an opinion that he +had met Hallard somewhere before. Hallard said he +thought not. As he stated his plans for a Sunday special, +a "symposium" of views on Philippine fortification, he +picked up the silver-handled revolver on the table and +laughed:</p> + +<p>"Is this lady-like weapon the latest government issue?"</p> + +<p>Forbes did not laugh; he flushed as he shook his head. +A wild thought came to Hallard. Forbes might have +been present at Mrs. Enslee's death. He might have +killed her himself with her own revolver. It was a wild +theory; but he had known so much of murder, and had +come upon such fantastic crimes, that nothing seemed +impossible to him.</p> + +<p>With pretended carelessness he broke the silver revolver +open and glanced at the cylinder. Every chamber was +full but one. Had a shot been fired from it, or had one +chamber been left unloaded for the hammer to rest on?</p> + +<p>Hallard put down the weapon and talked yellow +journalism of the Philippine problem. A little later he +said, quite casually:</p> + +<p>"Too bad about Mrs. Enslee, wasn't it, Captain?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span></p> + +<p>The startled look of Forbes confounded his theories.</p> + +<p>"What is too bad about Mrs. Enslee?"</p> + +<p>"Her sudden death, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Her death!" Forbes cried, the world rocking with +sudden earthquake. "Her death! Not Persis! Persis +isn't dead?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; didn't you know?"</p> + +<p>"My God! My God! how did she die? She was well, +perfectly well at—at—this afternoon when I—tell me, +man, man, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Hallard was readjusting his case. He spoke very +gently.</p> + +<p>"I'm mighty sorry to have told you without warning. +I thought, of course, you knew. You were a great friend +of the family, weren't you, Captain?"</p> + +<p>Forbes whitened at this, but his grief was keener than +his shame.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, how did she die?"</p> + +<p>"The story we get is that she killed herself—stabbed +herself!"</p> + +<p>Forbes gripped his head in his arms and bowed to the +thunderbolts crashing about him. At length his distorted +face appeared again and he demanded:</p> + +<p>"Who was with her when she killed herself?"</p> + +<p>"Her husband."</p> + +<p>"Then it's a lie. She never—she wouldn't—he killed +her! And it's my fault for leaving her with him. I ought +to have known better. I was tempted to go back to her. +I shouldn't have left her there with that—that—and +now she's dead! He butchered her! I'll kill him for it. +I will! He wasn't man enough to fight me—he—did +you say you were a reporter?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm a special writer."</p> + +<p>Forbes' words began to roar back through his memory. +He began to hear them as they would fall on a stranger's +ear. Even in his frenzy he realized the danger of his madness. +Talking to a reporter was like crying his thoughts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span> +aloud in Madison Square Garden. Grief, discretion, remorse, +revenge, assailed him from all sides at once.</p> + +<p>He seized Hallard by the shoulder and raged at him.</p> + +<p>"Look here! This Philippine idea was just a trick, +wasn't it, to startle me and make me forget myself? You +fooled me, but you can't get away with it."</p> + +<p>He saw his big Colt's revolver in his trunk-tray, and he +thundered:</p> + +<p>"I ought to shoot you for this, and I will unless you +swear that you will never print a word of what I've said, +never breathe a word of it to a soul. Promise, or by—"</p> + +<p>Hallard smiled and raised his half-eyebrow.</p> + +<p>"You're a little excited, Captain, aren't you? You're +kind of forgetting that shooting a reporter would be about +the poorest way of escaping publicity ever imagined. +People would naturally ask what it was you were so +anxious to conceal, eh?"</p> + +<p>Forbes turned away helpless.</p> + +<p>Hallard anticipated his next desperate idea. "I'm +much obliged to you, Captain, for not offering me a ten-dollar +bill or a new suit of clothes. They usually begin +with that. But it rarely works, Captain. We're a shiftless +lot, some of us, but we've got our ideas of duty, +too."</p> + +<p>"Duty to what?" Forbes sneered. "Duty to act as +grave-robbers and expose the sorrows of the world to the +laughter of the public? To drag families down to ruin?"</p> + +<p>"Duty to throw the light into dark places, Captain; +duty to make it hard to conceal things the public ought +to know; duty to keep digging up the truth and throwing +it into the air."</p> + +<p>"Truth!" Forbes raged. "What have you got to do +with the truth? Would you know it if you saw it? Would +you use it if you had it?"</p> + +<p>"You bet I would," Hallard said. "If you'll tell me +the exact truth, as far as you know it, about the suicide—or +murder, as you call it—of one of the most beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span> +members of one of the most prominent families—I'll +publish it."</p> + +<p>"In your own way, yes."</p> + +<p>"In your own words, Captain. I write shorthand. +Just dictate to me the whole story of your acquaintance +with Mrs. Enslee and your reasons for believing that her +husband killed her; and I'll not change a word. You can +read it, and sign it, and take affidavit that it's the truth, +so help you—"</p> + +<p>Forbes dropped into a chair, discredited, his bluff called. +All the lofty motives and compulsions of chivalry took on +an ugly look. Sir Launcelot was an adulterer and a +welcher.</p> + +<p>The hideously altered face of things shattered him so +that Hallard felt merciful.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Captain; but you see how it is. You see +why reporters get a little hard, why our mouths sag. We +don't publish the truth oftener because people won't tell +it to us. The truth isn't the pure white lady in a nice +clean well that the painters represent her: the truth is a +kind of a worm-eaten turnip that comes out of the ground +with a lot of dirt on it. We don't print all we find out +by a long shot. If we did this old town would make for +the woods, and the people in the woods would run to +cover in town. I'd be glad to drop this affair right here; +but, don't you see, I can't. The Enslees are too big to +overlook. There'll be an army of reporters on the job, +with their little flashlights poking everywhere. The +police will fall in line later. There'll be editorials on the +wickedness of society. Society—if there is such a thing—isn't +any wickeder than anybody else. The middle +classes are rotten, and the lower classes are putrid. But +society makes what old Horace Greeley called 'mighty +interesting reading.'</p> + +<p>"The name of Enslee is going to be a household word, +because when an Enslee sins it's like sinning in the grandstand. +I saw something like this coming a year ago. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span> +thought it might simmer down; but it's broken bigger +than I ever dreamed. You're in for it, Captain. The +Great American People is going to rise on the bleachers +and holler for blood. It will forget all about you the +minute something else happens. Take your medicine, +Captain. It will be somebody else's turn soon, for most +of us are doing the tango on a thin crust of ashes over +a crater. But it's the face-cards that the two-spots like +to read about. The minute somebody else that's prominent +pops through we'll let you alone. But you're in for +it, Captain—'way in. Better crawl under my umbrella +and give me the story."</p> + +<p>He meant it well, but it was impossible for Forbes to +accept his philosophy or his counsel. To Forbes he was +a slimy reptile with a hellish mission. Forbes told him +so, denied all that he had said, defied him, and turned +him out. And now he had leisure to understand the full +meaning of it all. First, his grief for Persis broke his +heart open. He mourned her as a sweetheart, a betrothed, +a wife; mourned her with an intolerable aching and rending +and longing, and with an utter remorse because of his +last words to her. When she was afraid and distraught +he had heaped condemnation on her! And who was he to +reproach her? Had he not pursued her, overwhelmed her, +made and kept her his? And then to discard and desert +her, knock aside her pleading hands and leave her in the +clutch of the maniac who had threatened them both! +He had taken Enslee's revolver away—as if that were the +only weapon in the world!</p> + +<p>Never had Persis seemed so beautiful to Forbes as he +remembered her now, cowering under his wrath, pleading +for pity, rushing to protect him even then, and falling in +a white swoon at his feet, as if already dead. And even +then he had spat on her and left her!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p class="cap">THE next morning's papers, without exception, gave +the death of Mrs. Enslee "under mysterious circumstances" +the doubtful honor of the front page, right-hand +column. In some of them the account bridged +several columns. The head-lines ranged from calm statements +to blatant balderdash.</p> + +<p>To Forbes, who had not slept all night and had sent +down for the papers soon after daybreak, the stories were +inconceivably cruel, ghoulish, fiendishly ingenious. The +fact that Persis' wedding had been celebrated only a +year before was emphasized in every account. She was +called a "bride" in most of them, and her "honeymoon" +was used dramatically in others. The importance of her +family and of Enslee's was exaggerated beyond reason. +Her portrait was published even in papers that rarely used +illustrations.</p> + +<p>Her beauty pleaded from every frame of head-lines till +it seemed as if her face had been clamped in a pillory, and +that the newspapers were pelting her without mercy or +decency.</p> + +<p>There was no way of protecting her, no way of punishing +the anonymous rabble, no way of crying to the mob +how lovable she had been and how impossible it was that +she should have taken her own life. Forbes was understanding +now how much worse a scandal it implied to say +that she had been murdered. A woman might kill herself +for any number of reasons, most of them pathetic; +but a woman whom her husband puts to death can hardly +escape calumny. Her lover was silenced by the reasons +that silenced her father.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span></p> + +<p>Forbes had not heard, or had forgotten, what paper +Hallard represented. He soon recognized his touch. +One paper, and one only, implied that Persis' death might +not have been a suicide, but a murder. One paper alone +referred to her "interest in a certain well-known army +officer who had recently come into a large fortune and +was much seen with her."</p> + +<p>When he read this Forbes turned as scarlet as if he +had been bound hand and foot and struck in the mouth.</p> + +<p>Only one morning paper implied that Persis had strayed +into the primrose path of dalliance. Not one evening paper +failed to emphasize this theory. The editors of these +sheets, appearing at their office before dawn, issued their +first "afternoon" editions at 8 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span>, and had their +"night" editions ready by noon. They all made use of +Hallard's material and tried to supplement it.</p> + +<p>Before Forbes had finished his breakfast he was visited +by the first reporter, and refused to see him. Within the +next half-hour a dozen reporters were clustered in the +hotel lobby. They lay in wait for him below like a vigilance +committee zealous for his lynching.</p> + +<p>Forbes felt like a trapped desperado. He dared not +venture out into that lurking inquisition. He dared not +call upon any of his friends for help, lest they be tarred +with the brush that was blackening his name. He had +planned to take a morning train to his Western post. +He was afraid to go to it now. He was afraid to arrive +at the garrison, knowing that the scandal would have preceded +him on the wires.</p> + +<p>He decided that he must resign from the army before +he was dismissed the service for bringing disgrace upon +the uniform. There were officers enough whose irregularities +were overlooked, but they had kept from the +public prints. Forbes had not only sinned, but had been +found out.</p> + +<p>He felt like a mortgager who sees himself foreclosed and +sold up. He had lost Persis, and he was about to lose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span> +his career. He wrote out his resignation, addressed the +envelope, sealed it, bent his head down in his arms above +it, and gave himself up to despair. His loneliness was +almost more than he could endure.</p> + +<p>By and by a letter was brought to his room. He had +refused to answer the telephone, and he ignored the +knocks of the hall boys. This letter was pushed under the +door. It was from Ten Eyck:</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Harvey</span>,—Just a line to tell you that my heart aches +for you and with you. The thought of Persis dead is almost +unthinkable, nearly unbearable to me. What it must be to +you I dread to imagine.</p> + +<p>I always remember the old Persian philosopher's motto when +he was tempted to enjoy joy too much or grieve too much over +grief: "This, too, will pass away."</p> + +<p>You are too big a man to let this or anything break you down. +Bend to it, but don't break.</p> + +<p>It occurs to me that you may need a little time to recuperate, +where you can't read the papers or hear them bawled under +your window.</p> + +<p>On Long Island I have a little shack on a sandbar on the edge +of the ocean. How would you like to run down there for a few +days? You can do your own cooking. If you wish I'll go along; +but if you'd rather be by yourself I won't go. I think you'd +better be by yourself and think it all out.</p> + +<p>I enclose a time-table with the best trains marked.</p> + +<p>Take a closed taxi to the station, and you'll not be noticed. +If I can do anything, command me.</p> + +<p class="ind"> +Affectionately yours,</p> + +<p class="attr"><span class="smcap">Murray Ten Eyck</span>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Not a reproach. Not an "I told you so." Not a minimizing +of the tragedy. Just a life-preserver thrown to a +man in deep waters.</p> + +<p>Forbes wrote:</p> + +<blockquote><p>God love you for this. I'll never forget. I'll prove my +gratitude by sparing you the ordeal of my company.</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span></p> + +<p>He packed a suit-case, bribed a porter and an elevator +man, and escaped from the hotel by one of the service +elevators and the trade entrance. He swore to Heaven +that this should be the last time he would sneak or cower. +He reached his destination without remark, and found +it congenially dreary.</p> + +<p>There was a furious storm that night. Wind and rain +flogged his cabin, and the sea cannonaded the beach. But +the shack survived, and the beach was still there in the +morning. There was only the wreckage of a little schooner +cast ashore.</p> + +<p>At first Forbes railed against the heartlessness of the +sea. But gradually he came to understand that the ocean +is not heartless; it simply obeys its own compulsions, +and the wrecks it makes are those that should not +have been out upon the waters or those that got +in the way of the laws. That was what Forbes had +done.</p> + +<p>As he strolled the sands or sat and watched the endless +procession of waves, waves, waves, hurling themselves +upon the shore to their own destruction, in his thoughts +memories came up one after another, like waves: memories +of beautiful hours that seemed to have no meaning beyond +their own brief charm; visions of Persis in a thousand +attitudes of enchantment, in costume after costume. +He saw her at the theater, lithe, exposed, incandescent; +he clasped her in the tango; he clenched her hand at the +opera; he saw her riding her cross-saddle in her boyish +togs; he clasped her in the taxi-cab in the rain; he walked +with her in moonlight and in the auroral rose; he galloped +alongside her, strode with her in the woods; he held +her in his arms while they watched the building burning +gorgeously at night; he saw her in all the lawless intimacies +of their secret life—careless, childish ecstasies and +wild throes of rapture.</p> + +<p>Then he remembered what she had told him of Ambassador +Tait's warning: "The world is old, my child,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span> +but it is stronger than any of us. And it can punish +without mercy."</p> + +<p>He was tasting now the mercy of the world, and Persis, +lying in cold white state, as he imagined her, was the +visible slain sacrifice on the altar. They had indeed +sinned. She had chosen wealth instead of love, and then +had tried to steal love, too. The simple fact was that +they had been wicked. They had duped and sneaked and +feasted on stolen sweets. Their punishment was just. +Many others had sinned more viciously and prospered in +their sin or repented comfortably and suffered nothing. +But they were not to be envied altogether.</p> + +<p>Somehow to his man's heart it brought a strange kind +of comfort to feel that this ruination was not a wanton +cruelty, but a penalty exacted. It made the world less +lonely; it replaced chaos with law and order. Perhaps +other souls would take warning from their fate; perhaps +other guilty couples would be frightened back to duty; +perhaps somebody tempted by the scarlet allurements of +passion would be helped toward contentment with the +gray security and homely peace of fidelity.</p> + +<p>The world was in a tempest against him. The waves +had cast up his beautiful fellow-voyager on the sands. If +only their shipwreck might keep somebody else from putting +out to sea in pleasure craft unseaworthy and unlicensed!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + +<p class="cap">HAD Forbes read the papers he would have known +that the storm had not subsided yet. The wealth +of Enslee could not bribe the least mercy; it was rather +a stimulus to the press.</p> + +<p>At the height of the tempest the funeral of Persis was +held. Almost nobody attended it, and the few that did +were rather drawn by curiosity than respect. Those who +knew Persis well were afraid to be seen in the company +even of her body. They were busy denying their earlier +intimacy or telling how they had foreseen this disaster. +She went in lonely state to join the silent throng in the +cemetery, and she knew no more of the storm that raged +about her than the world knew of the one high achievement +of her soul. She was like some little brilliant bird of paradise +flung to the ground by a lightning stroke. The +storm roared on, the ferocity of the newspaper attacks +increased with every extra. The fact that a theory was +hinted in an early edition was taken as proof enough for +a positive statement in a later. Finally there were demands +for the arrest of the husband.</p> + +<p>The district-attorney was busy, however, on an Augean +task—the cleaning out of the police stable. He delayed +or forbore to take up the Enslee matter. He was accordingly +attacked as a toady to the rich. This stung him to +an investigation.</p> + +<p>And at last the police entered into the affair. Enslee +was sent for and cross-questioned by commissioners. He +was at bay, and he revealed unexpected gifts of evasion. +Willie's lawyers stood by him. They were high-priced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span> +men, and they earned whatever he paid them. They +succeeded in fighting off an indictment.</p> + +<p>But even now Hallard and his cronies would not let +him rest above ground or Persis beneath. Conflicting +bits of Enslee's testimony were published in parallel columns, +and his explanation that Persis, in her final rage, +had seized the knife from his hand and stabbed herself +was declared impossible and unconvincing. Her dying +statement, as sworn to by Crofts, stood, however, as the +one strong shelter over Enslee's head.</p> + +<p>The skeptics insisted that Crofts, being deaf, had heard +wrong or been bribed to perjury. None of them dreamed +that Persis could have devised that snow-white lie as her +atonement to the man she had betrayed. Hallard was +obsessed with an idea that if Persis' body were exhumed +it would be shown that she could not have dealt the fatal +wound with her own hand. He had once organized a +campaign against a decision of the court sentencing a +valet to the penitentiary, and kept it up until the prison +gates were opened and the man gained an opportunity +to tell his story anew. He was found guilty again and +sent back to his cell; but the despotic power of the press +was demonstrated. If Hallard could open the penitentiary, +why not the grave in which a <i>corpus delicti</i> had been hastily +hidden?</p> + +<p>With every weapon in the vast armory of newspaperdom +Hallard waged his battle. The political ambition +of the district-attorney finally yielded to the coercion. +An order was obtained from the court commanding the +officials of the cemetery to unseal the tomb where Persis' +body had been stored until the great monument Enslee +had commissioned could be made ready to weigh her down +irretrievably.</p> + +<p>Forbes, having regained his courage in his absence in +the wilderness, was seized with a mad desire to gaze upon +his beloved's face once more and to whisper to her a +prayer that she forgive him for abandoning her in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</a></span> +desolation and her peril. Ten Eyck used every plea to +dissuade him; but, failing, determined to go with him.</p> + +<p>Permission to be present at the exhumation was secured +with little difficulty, and the two men joined the group of +court officials and the six experts who were to decide +from examination whether or not Persis could have inflicted +the fatal wound upon herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p class="cap">AND so Persis came back again to the world in a mockery +of resurrection, back again from the sodden earth +to the light of day that had blessed her beauty and not +known her sin.</p> + +<p>Forbes waited her reappearance in a frenzy of anxiety. +It was to him a kind of holy tryst that he must keep at +any cost.</p> + +<p>Slowly the casket was raised; one by one the screws +in the coffin-lid were removed, and at last the board was +removed from over the white, white face. Some impulse +of protection led Ten Eyck to thrust Forbes back until +he himself had taken the first look. He gazed and groaned +at the havoc death had wrought in all that beauty. +When Forbes pressed forward, Ten Eyck whirled and +clapped his hands over Forbes' eyes and dragged him +aside, whispering huskily:</p> + +<p>"Don't look! In God's name keep the memory of her +as she was."</p> + +<p>Forbes suffered himself to be led aside. He and Ten +Eyck waited at a distance while the tests were made. +The knife was closed in the icy fingers, and the exquisite +arms moved here and there. Over the cold and silent +body the experts wrangled. And the upshot of the +desecration was that they could not agree; three of the +jurors declared that Persis could not have reached so far +around to set the knife in her side; and three that she +could have done it, whether she did or not.</p> + +<p>Persis, wherever she was, kept her secret. And Willie, +abiding the decision in a stupor of terror, thanked God +and her for their silence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[Pg 511]</a></span></p> + +<p>The newspapers had much to say of this last phase of +the Enslee mystery. They summed up again all the old +scandals, and then they, too, went silent. Their readers +grew weary of the juggle of facts and falsehoods. The +mishaps of other lovers furnished them with unfailing +supply of the old mistakes that are the eternal news. +Forbes, who had withheld his resignation from the army +at Ten Eyck's bidding, was received back into his place, +shorn of his ambitions, his youth, and his pride.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Often and often when he is alone he takes from its +hiding shelter a little nightcap of ribbons and laces and +shakes his head with vain regret.</p> + +<p>He thinks of Persis always as she was that morning +when the filmy cap fell from her lawless curls. He cannot +but feel that there was something elect in her, something +divinely beautiful, however thwarted for this world.</p> + +<p>But then he loved her, he could forgive her anything. +If God loved her, could he not do as much?</p> + +<p>When the skies are clouded he remembers her wise +little saying, "Behind the blinds there are always eyes." +He wonders if there are eyes behind the clouds and beyond +the sun. And if there are, and if they are the seeing +eyes of perfect understanding, What do those people say?</p> + +<p class="center">THE END</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="notes"> +<p>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</p> + +<p>Obvious typographical errors in spelling and punctuation have +been corrected without comment. One example of an obvious typographical +error is on page 345 where the word "irrevocaable" was changed to "irrevocable" +in the phrase: "The irrevocable was accomplished." Other than obvious typographical +errors, the author's original spelling, punctuation, hyphenation and +use of accents has been left intact with the following exceptions:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Page 24: "tile" was changed to "tie" in the phrase: "... one silk tie..."</p> + +<p>Page 99: "lovelily" was changed to "lovely" in the phrase: "... her +lovely disparted bosom..."</p> + +<p>Page 206: "darkled": was changed to "darted" in the phrase: "And they +darted between the planets..."</p> + +<p>Page 251: The phrase: "... some one's else success." was changed to: +"... some one else's success."</p> + +<p>Page 284: "ditto" was changed to "ditty" in the phrase: "... it was a romping ditty...."</p> + +<p>Page 423: A question mark (?) was changed to a period (or full-stop) +in the sentence ending: "... stealth of clandestine lovers."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The author's use of the words "thridding" and "thredding" have been left +unchanged as in the following instances:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Page 13: "... as it thridded the unpoliced traffic...."</p> + +<p>Page 67: "... he was now thridding the maze...."</p> + +<p>Page 380: "... thredding the increasingly mucilaginous crowd...."</p></blockquote> +</div> + +<div class="notes"> + +<p class="center"><a name="Table_of_Contents" id="Table_of_Contents">Table of Contents</a></p> + +<table summary="contents"> +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><p>CHAPTER</p></td> +<td class="tdr"><p>Page</p></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></td> +<td class="tdr">1</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></td> +<td class="tdr">7</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></td> +<td class="tdr">11</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">15</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></td> +<td class="tdr">24</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">31</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">40</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">45</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">51</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></td> +<td class="tdr">57</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">61</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">74</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">80</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">93</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">96</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">103</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">108</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">119</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">123</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">130</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">135</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">139</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">143</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">153</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">159</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">172</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">177</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">182</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">191</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">202</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">215</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">220</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">226</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">237</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">244</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">263</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">267</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">272</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">CHAPTER XL</a></td> +<td class="tdr">275</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">CHAPTER XLI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">283</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">CHAPTER XLII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">288</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">CHAPTER XLIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">296</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">CHAPTER XLIV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">299</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">CHAPTER XLV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">310</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">CHAPTER XLVI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">318</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">CHAPTER XLVII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">327</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">CHAPTER XLVIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">337</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">CHAPTER XLIX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">341</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_L">CHAPTER L</a></td> +<td class="tdr">346</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LI">CHAPTER LI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">351</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LII">CHAPTER LII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">359</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIII">CHAPTER LIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">364</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIV">CHAPTER LIV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">369</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LV">CHAPTER LV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">378</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LVI">CHAPTER LVI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">383</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LVII">CHAPTER LVII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">388</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LVIII">CHAPTER LVIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">403</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LIX">CHAPTER LIX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">411</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LX">CHAPTER LX</a></td> +<td class="tdr">417</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXI">CHAPTER LXI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">424</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXII">CHAPTER LXII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">434</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXIII">CHAPTER LXIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">440</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXIV">CHAPTER LXIV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">446</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXV">CHAPTER LXV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">450</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXVI">CHAPTER LXVI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">459</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXVII">CHAPTER LXVII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">462</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><a href="#CHAPTER_LXVIII">CHAPTER LXVIII</a></td> +<td class="tdr">479</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdlp"><p><a href="#THE_AFTERMATH">THE AFTERMATH</a></p></td> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"><a href="#I">I</a></td> +<td class="tdr">489</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"><a href="#II">II</a></td> +<td class="tdr">493</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"><a href="#III">III</a></td> +<td class="tdr">496</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"><a href="#IV">IV</a></td> +<td class="tdr">502</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"><a href="#V">V</a></td> +<td class="tdr">507</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdc"><a href="#VI">VI</a></td> +<td class="tdr">510</td> +</tr> + +</table> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of What Will People Say?, by Rupert Hughes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHAT WILL PEOPLE SAY? *** + +***** This file should be named 38311-h.htm or 38311-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/3/1/38311/ + +Produced by Darleen Dove, Shannon Barker, Cathy Maxam, 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 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