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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 08:56:20 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 08:56:20 -0800 |
| commit | dc7630bc02586c2740e72088e8e7e7c2617db1eb (patch) | |
| tree | 023459374a8e7a8e336a04169742410e51b2deb2 /45100-h/45100-h.html | |
| parent | 4735d8d262dc7aeeecbdc70413e4d58fb471aa6b (diff) | |
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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>THE WHIRL</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="The Whirl" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Foxcroft Davis" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1909" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Harrison Fisher" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Martin Justice whirl.rst:2: (INFO/1) Enumerated list start value not ordinal-1: "B" (ordinal 2)" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="45100" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-03-09" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="The Whirl A Romance of Washington Society" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="The Whirl A Romance of Washington Society" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="whirl.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-03-09T18:40:10.926107+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45100" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Foxcroft Davis" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="Harrison Fisher" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="B. Martin Justice" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2014-03-09" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="the-whirl"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">THE WHIRL</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: The Whirl -<br /> A Romance of Washington Society -<br /> -<br />Author: Foxcroft Davis -<br /> -<br />Release Date: March 09, 2014 [EBook #45100] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE WHIRL</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-28"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover art" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover art</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<p class="center pfirst" id="her-glance-quick-yet-soft-was-much-the-prettiest-thing-of-the-sort-sir-percy-had-ever-seen"><span class="medium">"Her glance, quick yet soft, was much the prettiest thing -<br />of the sort Sir Percy had ever seen" (Page </span><a class="medium reference internal" href="#id1">33</a><span class="medium">) -<br />(missing from book) . . . . . . </span><em class="italics medium">Frontispiece</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE WHIRL</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">A ROMANCE OF -<br />WASHINGTON SOCIETY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">FOXCROFT DAVIS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY -<br />HARRISON FISHER AND -<br />B. MARTIN JUSTICE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">NEW YORK -<br />DODD, MEAD & COMPANY -<br />1909</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">COPYRIGHT, 1907 -<br />BY THE WASHINGTON HERALD COMPANY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">COPYRIGHT, 1909 -<br />BY DODD, MEAD & COMPANY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Published, May, 1909</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#her-glance-quick-yet-soft-was-much-the-prettiest-thing-of-the-sort-sir-percy-had-ever-seen">"Her glance, quick yet soft, was much the -prettiest thing of the sort Sir Percy -had ever seen"</a><span> (page </span><a class="reference internal" href="#id1">33</a><span>) -(missing from book) . . . . . . </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#it-is-the-old-story-you-are-worthy-to-marry-her-but-i-am-not-worthy-to-speak-to-her">"'It is the old story. You are worthy to -marry her, but I am not worthy to -speak to her'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-shall-leave-this-house-to-morrow-morning-never-to-re-enter-it">"'I shall leave this house to-morrow morning, -never to re-enter it'"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Few men have the goal of their ambition in -sight at thirty-eight years of age. But Sir -Percy Carlyon had, when he was appointed -First Secretary of the British Embassy at -Washington, with a very well-arranged scheme -worked out by which, at the end of four years, -he was to succeed his uncle, Lord Baudesert, -the present Ambassador. This realisation of -his dreams came to Sir Percy on a December -afternoon dark and sharp, as he tramped over -the frozen ground through the stark and -leafless woods, which may yet be found close to -Washington.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was a great walker, this thin, sinewy -Englishman with a sun-browned skin, burnt -by many summers in India and weather-beaten -by many winters in the snowbound depths of -the Balkans. He had the straight features and -clear, scintillant eyes which are the marks of -race among his kind, but no one would have -been more surprised than Sir Percy if he had -been called handsome. Within him, on this -bleak December afternoon, was a sensation -strange to him after many years: the feeling of -hope and almost of joy. He stopped in the -silent heart of the woods, and, leaning against -the gnarled trunk of a live oak, thrust his hands -into his pockets and glanced, with brightening -eyes, towards the west. A faint, rosy line upon -the horizon was visible through the naked -woods; all else in sky and earth was dun-coloured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To Sir Percy Carlyon this thread of radiance -was a promise of the future. This was, to him, -almost the first moment of retrospection since -the day, two months before, when, in the Prime -Minister's rooms in Downing Street, a new life -in a new country opened before him. Since -then--amid the official and personal preparations -necessary to take up his post, his seven -days on the Atlantic, during which he worked -hard on pressing business, the necessary first -visits upon his arrival--Sir Percy had scarcely -enjoyed an hour to himself. He had found -the Embassy overwhelmed with affairs, about -which his uncle, Lord Baudesert, coolly -refused to bother himself, but which Sir Percy, -as a practical man, felt obliged to take up and -carry through. That day, only, had he, by -hard and systematic work, caught up what was -called by Lord Baudesert, with a grin, the -"unfinished business" at the British Embassy, but -which really meant the neglected business of a -lazy, clever old diplomatist who never did -to-day what he could put off until to-morrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Baudesert had been many years at -Washington, and had a thorough knowledge -not only of the affairs of the American people, -but of their temper, their prejudices and their -passions. In an emergency his natural -abilities, and a kind of superhuman adroitness -which he possessed, together with the vast fund -of knowledge that he had accumulated, but -rarely used, made him a valuable person to the -Foreign Office. However, as soon as the -emergency passed Lord Baudesert returned to his -usual occupation of studying the American -newspapers and anything else which could add -to the already vast stock of knowledge which -he possessed, but rarely condescended to use.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Embassy was presided over by Lord -Baudesert's widowed sister, Mrs. Vereker, an -amiable old sheep of the early Victorian type. -Then there were three lamb-like Vereker -girls, Jane, Sarah and Isabella, all likewise -early Victorian, who regarded their uncle as a -combination of Bluebeard and Solomon, and -altogether the most important and the most -terrifying person on this planet. Lord -Baudesert's favourite instrument of torture to the -ladies of his family was the threat to marry an -American widow with billions of money. How -this would have unfavourably affected her the -excellent Mrs. Vereker could not have told to -save her life--but the mere hint always gave -her acute misery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The secretaries of the Embassy were very -well-meaning young men, who attended to their -work as well as they knew how, but as Lord -Baudesert seldom took the trouble to read a -document, and would not sign his name to -anything which he had not read, it was difficult -to get business transacted. When Sir Percy -Carlyon was getting his instructions from the -Prime Minister concerning his post of First -Secretary at Washington the Premier had remarked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your uncle, you know, is the laziest man God -ever made, but he is also one of the cleverest. -No living Englishman knows as much about -American affairs as Lord Baudesert, or has -ever made himself so acceptable to the -American people, but when he isn't doing us the -greatest service in the world, he lets -everything go hang. We are sending you to -Washington to get some work done. I hear -you can bully Lord Baudesert in every particular."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Except one," Sir Percy had replied. "Neither -I, nor anybody else, nor the devil himself, could -make Lord Baudesert work when he doesn't -want to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy, on this December afternoon in the -woods, reviewed in his own mind his whole -diplomatic career up to the point of that -interview. His first beginnings had been as a minor -civil servant on the Indian frontier twelve -years before. It is not uncommon, however, -for those clever youngsters who are sent out -to India to govern, negotiate, threaten and -subdue a vast and deceitful people to find -themselves entrusted with responsibilities which -might appal older representatives of the British -Empire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Far removed from Western civilisation, and -out of the field of newspapers, young Sir Percy -Carlyon was in effect ruler and lord of a -million people, whose united word counted less -with their English masters than one sentence -from this sahib of twenty-six years of age. -His post was on the Afghanistan frontier, -where he had to circumvent Afghans and -Russians and out-general all of them. The times -were difficult, and in spite of young Carlyon's -great and even splendid gifts of insight, temper -and diplomacy, he would hardly have succeeded -in his work but for one man. This was -General Talbott, who was in military command of -the district, and an admirable type of the -soldier-diplomatist. He had stood by Sir Percy -with a vigour and generosity, and a fatherly -kindness, which no man not an utter ingrate -could ever forget. They had gone together -through stormy and tragic days, and when the -reports had reached the Indian Office it was -Sir Percy to whom General Talbott gave the -largest share of the credit, and even the -glory, which had resulted from their joint -efforts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thanks to this extraordinary generosity on -General Talbott's part, Sir Percy's efforts had -received prompt recognition. His first two -years in India were brilliantly successful, and -marked him as a rising man among his fellows. -From that time onwards he had been what is -called lucky--that is to say, when two courses -were opened to him he took the sensible one. -After a brief but distinguished service in India -he was transferred to the diplomatic corps, and -good fortune followed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the greatest stroke of his life had come -two years before, in the Balkans, that line upon -which, as Lord Beaconsfield said, "England -fights." The Foreign Office happened not to be -as judicious in a certain juncture as its young -representative; in fact, the Premier committed -the most astounding blunder, which, if it had -become known, would have sent him out of -office amid the inextinguishable laughter of -mankind. This blunder, however, was known -only to four persons--the Prime Minister himself, -his private secretary, a telegraph operator -and Sir Percy Carlyon. What Sir Percy did -was to wire back to the head of the Government:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Message received, but unintelligible owing -to telegraph operator's ignorance of English."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he proceeded to act upon his own -account. Three days later the Russian envoy -was on his way to St. Petersburg on an -indefinite leave of absence and Sir Percy was -domiciled with the reigning sovereign at his country -place, and was in the saddle to stay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Six months after he had an interview with -the Prime Minister. Not much was said, but -Sir Percy was asked in diplomatic language -to name what he wanted. He named it, and -it was to be First Secretary at Washington -when his promotion was due, then service at -some smaller European court as Minister, and -to succeed Lord Baudesert on his retirement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Prime Minister was not startled at the -proposition. He knew Sir Percy to be a man -of lofty ambition and not likely to underrate -himself. The scheme, moreover, had in it -elements of fitness and common-sense. The Prime -Minister was heartily tired of gouty old -gentlemen in great diplomatic positions, and thought -it rather a good idea to make a man an -Ambassador before he got too old. Besides, -nothing that Sir Percy Carlyon could have asked -in reason would have been too much, -considering from what the Premier had been saved. -So it was arranged that he should go to -Washington as First Secretary, and the rest of the -plan was likely to be carried out even if there -should be a change in the party in power. -Eighteen months afterwards the appointment -was made and the first step in the programme -taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In looking back upon his career, Sir Percy -saw nothing but good fortune--great and -exceptional good fortune; so much so, that he -began to ask himself whether, like the old -Greeks, a price would not be demanded from -him for all that had been given him. The idea, -however, was unpleasing, and he began, -Alnaschar-like, to plan what he should do when he -became Ambassador. Then a thought stole -into his mind which made his somewhat grim -face relax; there ought to be an Ambassadress. -He could see her in his mind's eye, a beautiful, -stately English girl, looking like the elder sister -of the tall, white lilies. She must be grave and -dignified, and very reticent--a talkative -Ambassadress would be a horror. He would like -her to be of some great English home. -Himself one of the best born men in England, he -had a fancy, even a weakness, for distinguished -birth. He had a strong prejudice against -members of the diplomatic corps marrying outside -of their countries, and especially he disapproved -of diplomats rushing pell-mell into marriage -with American girls. He had known a few of -these feminine American diplomatists in his -time, and there was not one he considered well -fitted for her position. Most of them talked -too much; and all of them dressed too much. -Then many of them had shoals of relatives, -whom they insisted on dragging around with -them to the various European capitals, and -these relations generally involved them in social -battles which were anything but dignified. On -the whole, Sir Percy had fully made up his -mind to marry none but an Englishwoman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time he had reached this point in his -reverie he was striding fast through the woods -in the bitter winter dusk towards the town. -Suddenly a woman's face, like a face in a -dream, passed before his mind. The thought -of her brought his rapid walk to a dead stop, -like a dagger thrust into his heart. The image -of Alicia Vernon rose before him--Alicia, who -was tall and fair, and had a flute-like voice and -the deepest and darkest blue eyes he had ever -seen--Alicia, the only child of the man who -had befriended him more than all the men in -the world--General Talbott.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>True, he had been but twenty-six years of -age when he met Alicia, who was two years his -senior. True, that older and stronger men than -he had succumbed to her beauty, her charm, -her courage, her fitness, and her wantonness. -Not one of them, however, but had better -excuse than himself, so thought Sir Percy, his -eyes involuntarily cast down with shame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he first met her, Alicia was already -married to Guy Vernon, weak, worthless and -rich. Sir Percy remembered, with a flush of -self-abasement, how ready, nay, how eager, he -had been to listen to the plausible stories Alicia -told him of Guy Vernon's ill-treatment and -neglect of her. But she had omitted to -mention that she had squandered half of Guy -Vernon's fortune within the first three years of -their married life, and had compromised -herself with at least half-a-dozen men since her -marriage. True, also, that Alicia and Sir -Percy were at a lonely post among the hills on -the Afghan frontier, and that he and Guy -Vernon's wife had been thrown together in -an intimacy impossible anywhere else on the -face of the globe. True, again, was it that -Alicia Vernon's flattery had been insidious -beyond words. Money was what she had -heretofore required more than anything else on -earth except the enslavement of men. Sir -Percy's fortune, however, was only a modest -patrimony, which would scarcely have sufficed -for six months for what Alicia Vernon -considered her actual needs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she had in reality seduced Sir Percy's -honour, so, in a way, was she herself seduced -by his powerful intelligence, by his brilliance -and by his success, which, with a woman's -prescience, she felt sure was only the presage -of greater things. She inherited from her -father a clear and trenchant mind, and she -readily foresaw that the time would come -when this young Indian civil servant would be -heard of by all his world. She, however, was -his first courtier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was impossible that a woman so gifted, so -complex, so courageous as Alicia Vernon -should not have at least one virtue in excess. -That was her love for her father. False she -was to him in many ways, but true she ever -was in love of him. By the exercise of all her -intelligence, and by eternal vigilance, she had -succeeded in making General Talbott believe her -the purest, the most injured woman alive. He -always called her "my poor Alicia," and hated -her husband with a mortal hatred, thinking him -to have injured the gentlest and sweetest of -women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy's infatuation for Alicia Vernon -lasted but a few months, and, through Alicia's -woman's wit, was unsuspected by the world, -least of all by General Talbott, who adored his -daughter. Then Sir Percy awoke once more -to honour, and pitied the woman and hated -himself for the brief downfall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is not every man who beats his breast and -throws ashes on his head who is a true -penitent. But no man felt bitterer remorse for his -wrongdoing than did Sir Percy Carlyon. He -applied the same judgment to himself that he -did to other men, and while reckoning his fault -at its full wickedness, also reckoned that sincere -penitence was not entirely worthless. He had -lived his life to that time of remorse in -cheerful ignorance and a silent defiance of the Great -First Cause; but upon the darkness of his soul -stole a ray of light. He began to believe a little -in a personal God, a father, a judge and a -school-master who required justice and obedience -of mankind. Sir Percy became secretly a -religious man. He did not go to church any -oftener than before, nor did he take refuge in -Bible texts, but the prayer of the publican was -often in his heart, "God be merciful to me a -sinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a pause of a minute or two he resumed -his quick, swinging walk. The December night -was upon him, although it was not yet six -o'clock, and he had still five miles to tramp -before reaching Washington. That night the -initial ball of the season was to be given at the -British Embassy, and Sir Percy was, for the -first time, to see the kaleidoscopic Washington -society. His rapid walk stimulated him and -enabled him to put out of his mind that painful -and humiliating recollection of his early lapse, -which had lain in hiding for him by night and -day, by land and sea, for ten years past. So -long as he had been in Europe Alicia had not -allowed him to forget her, but had tracked him -from place to place. How well he remembered -the anger and disgust he felt when she -would suddenly appear--beautiful, charmingly -dressed, smiling and composed--on the terrace -at Homburg and challenge him with her eyes! -How hateful became the Court balls at -Buckingham Palace when Alicia Vernon, leaning -upon her father's arm, would greet Sir Percy -in her seductive, well-modulated voice, of -which he knew and hated every note! How -wearisome became the visits to great country -houses when Alicia, as it so often happened, -floated into the drawing-room on the evening -of his arrival, and was generally the most -beautiful and most gifted woman there, with more -knowledge of what she should not know than -any other woman present! At least, thought -Sir Percy, his spirits rising, he would be free -in Washington from Alicia Vernon's presence. -There was not much here to attract a woman -of her type.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time the lights of Washington studded -the darkness and the tall apartment-houses, -sparkling with electric lights, loomed against -the black sky, Sir Percy was himself again, -cheerful, courageous--ready to meet life with -a smile, a sword or a shield, as might be demanded.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">II</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The British Embassy was blazing with light, -and the musicians were tuning their -instruments in the ball-room, when Sir Percy came -in, a little before ten o'clock. Lord Baudesert, -a handsome, black-eyed and white-haired man, -his breast covered with decorations, was -critically inspecting Mrs. Vereker and the three -Vereker girls, Jane, Sarah and Isabella. All -were panic-stricken as Lord Baudesert's keen -eyes travelled from the top of their sandy, -abundant hair down to their large feet encased -in white satin slippers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I swear, Susan," Lord Baudesert was saying -to Mrs. Vereker, a large, patient, soft-voiced -woman, "I believe that black velvet gown you -wear figured at the old Queen's coronation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have only had it ten years, brother," -murmured Mrs. Vereker; "and it is the very best -quality of black silk velvet, at thirty shillings -the yard. A black velvet gown never goes out -of fashion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if it belongs to you," answered Lord -Baudesert, laughing. "And why don't you -three girls dress like American girls? Your -gowns look as if they had been hung out in the -rain and dried before the kitchen fire and then -thrown at you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jane, Sarah and Isabella, accustomed to these -compliments, only smiled faintly but Sir Percy, -looking Lord Baudesert squarely in the eye, -remarked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They don't dress like American girls because -they are English girls; and, for my part, I -never could understand how any sane man -could prefer an American to an English girl. -As for Aunt Susan's gown, it is very handsome -and appropriate, and she should not pay any -attention to your views on the subject."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker looked apprehensively at Sir -Percy, whom she regarded as a superserviceable -champion, likely to get her into additional -trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear Percy!" she hastened to say, -"Lord Baudesert's taste in dress is perfect. I -am sure I would be as smart as any one if I -only knew how, but we are at the mercy of the -dressmakers, and Lord Baudesert can't understand that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Baudesert can understand anything he -wants to," answered Sir Percy, laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Lord Baudesert laughed too. Sir -Percy's determination not to be bullied by him -was an agreeable sensation to Lord Baudesert, -accustomed as he was to be approached on all -fours by the ladies of his family.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The occasion to worry his womankind, however, -was too good for Lord Baudesert, and he -began again to his nephew:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope, my dear boy, you will meet a friend -of mine to-night--Mrs. Chantrey--a widow, -very handsome, fine old Boston family, with -something like a billion of money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker sighed. Mrs. Chantrey was her -rod of scourging, which Lord Baudesert freely -applied. Then, taking his nephew's arm, the -Ambassador walked into the next room, and -out of Mrs. Vereker's hearing expressed his -true sentiments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will see American women in full -force to-night," he said. "They are strange -creatures, full of </span><em class="italics">esprit</em><span>, and they have brought -the art of dress to the level of a fine art. Be -sure to look at their shoes and their handkerchiefs. -I am told that their stockings are works -of art. Don't mind their screeching at you, -you will get used to it. There is great talk of -their wonderful adaptability, nevertheless I -never saw one of them whom I really thought -was fitted to be the wife of a diplomat. You -needn't pay any attention to the way I talk -about Mrs. Chantrey; I wouldn't marry that -woman if she were made of radium at two -million dollars the pound, but it amuses me to -worry Susan on the subject."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's nice for Aunt Susan," answered Sir -Percy--"but on one point my mind is made up: -I shall never marry an American."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can tell you one thing," continued Lord -Baudesert: "marrying an American heiress is -about the poorest investment any man can -make, if he has an eye to business. In this -singular country money is never mentioned by -the bridegroom. That one word 'settlement' -would be enough to make an American father -kick any man out of the house. The father, -however, is certain to mention money to his -prospective son-in-law. He demands that -everything his daughter's husband has should -be settled on the wife, and generally requires -that his future son-in-law's life be insured for -the wife's benefit. Then, whatever the American -father has to give his daughter he ties up -as tight as a drum, so that the son-in-law can't -touch it, and everything else the son-in-law -may get depends on his good behaviour. The -American girl, having been accustomed to -regard herself as a pearl beyond price, expects -her husband to be a sort of coolie at her -command. If he isn't she flies back to her father, -and the father proceeds to cut off supplies from -the son-in-law. Oh, it is a great game, the -American marriage, when it is for high stakes. -I take it that it is impossible for any European, -even an Englishman, to get at the point of -view of an American father concerning his -daughter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the first violin among the musicians -played a few bars of a waltz. Sarah and -Isabella, seeing Lord Baudesert's back turned, -waltzed around together in a corner of the -drawing-room. As soon, however, as they -caught Lord Baudesert's eye they left off -dancing and scuttled back under the wing of -their mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem to have terrorised those girls -pretty successfully," remarked Sir Percy; "why -don't you let the poor things have a little -independence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear fellow, they wouldn't know what -to do with independence if they had it. They -have behind them a thousand years of a -civilisation based upon the submission of an -Englishwoman to an Englishman. They would be like -overfed pheasants trying to fly, if they had a -will of their own, and they are happy as they -are. They always sing when I am not by. I -annoy Susan occasionally by talking about -Mrs. Chantrey. When that lady is in full canonicals, -with all her diamonds, she looks like the Queen -of Sheba in Goldmark's opera. She looks worse -than a new duchess at her first Court."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment the great hall door was -opened, and the first guest, a tall, slight, -well-made man, with a trim grey moustache, entered, -and was shown into the dressing-room. Lord -Baudesert then took his stand, or rather his -seat, near the door of the drawing-room, with -Mrs. Vereker at his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I always have the gout," he explained to Sir -Percy, "at balls. It is tiresome to stand, and, -besides, an Ambassador is entitled to have some -kind of gentlemanly disease of which he can -make use upon occasions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so sorry," said Mrs. Vereker sympathetically -to Lord Baudesert, "that the gout is -troubling you this evening. I have not heard -you speak of it for months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haven't had a touch since the last ball," -calmly replied Lord Baudesert, and then he -stood up to greet the early guest, who entered -without showing any awkwardness at his -somewhat premature arrival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Delighted to see you," said Lord Baudesert, -with the greatest cordiality. "It is not often -you honour a ball. Let me introduce my -nephew and new Secretary of the Embassy to -you--Sir Percy Carlyon, Senator March."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men shook hands, and instantly each -received a good impression of the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Ambassador must have his joke," said -Senator March. "It is true that I seldom go -to balls, nor am I often asked. You see how -little I know of them by my turning up ahead of -time. The card said ten o'clock, and to my -rude, untutored mind it seemed as if I were -expected at ten o'clock, and here I am, the sole -guest. I don't suppose the smart people will -show up for an hour yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better, for it gives me the -chance to talk to you," replied Lord Baudesert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the three men sat down together and -chatted. The conversation was chiefly between -the Ambassador and the Senator. A question -concerning international affairs had been up -that day in the Senate, and Senator March, who -was Chairman of the Committee on Foreign -Relations, had spoken upon it. He gave a -brief </span><em class="italics">resumé</em><span> of what he had said, and Lord -Baudesert, in a few incisive sentences, threw -a flood of light upon the subject. Sir Percy -listened with interest to what Senator March -had to say. It was his first informal -conversation with an American public man, and he -admired the ease, the simplicity and the sublime -common sense with which Senator March -handled the complicated question, and so -expressed himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no excuse for our treating any -question except in the most sensible, practical -manner," answered Senator March. "In -Europe you are shackled with the traditions -and customs of a thousand years. You can't -take down even a tottering wall without -endangering the whole structure. With us it is all -experimental. Nevertheless, our affairs are no -better managed than yours in England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy at every moment felt more and -more the charm of Roger March's manner and -conversation. It was so simple, so manly and -so breezy. Nor was Senator March without -appreciation of this clean-limbed, clear-eyed -Englishman. Half an hour passed quickly in -animated conversation before there was -another arrival; but then the stream became a -torrent. In twenty minutes the rooms were full -and the dancers were skimming around the -ballroom to the thrilling strains of music. -Mrs. Chantrey was easily identified by Sir Percy. -She was a big, handsome woman, with an enormous -gown of various fabrics and colours, who -so blazed with diamonds that she looked like a -lighthouse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy was not a dancing man, nor did he -ever admire dancing as an art until he saw -the soft, slow, rhythmical waltz as danced by -Americans. His duties as assistant host kept -him busy, but, like a born diplomat, he could -see a number of things at once and pursue more -than one train of thought at the same time. As -he talked to men and women of many different -nationalities, ages and conditions, his eyes -wandered toward the ball-room, where the waltzers -floated around. Never in his life had he seen -so many good dancers, particularly among the -women. One girl in particular caught his eye. -Her figure was of medium height, and her black -evening gown showed off her exquisite -slenderness, the beautiful moulding of her arms and -the graceful poise of her head. Her face he -scarcely noticed, except that she had milk-white -skin contrasted with very dark hair and eyes. -She danced slowly, with a motion as soft as the -zephyr at evening time. Sir Percy's eyes dwelt -with pleasure upon her half a dozen times while -the waltz lasted. Then came the rapid -two-step, which reminded Sir Percy of a graceful -romp. But the black-haired, white-skinned -girl was not then taking part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The drawing-room grew crowded, and Sir -Percy, moving from group to group, did not -go into the ball-room. He was introduced to -a great number of ladies, young, old and -middle-aged, and the general impression made -upon him was what he expected of the -American woman </span><em class="italics">en masse</em><span>. Prettiness was almost -universal, but beauty of a high order was rare. -One girl alone he reckoned strictly beautiful--Eleanor -Chantrey, the only child of the lady -like the lighthouse, but totally unlike her. -Eleanor was tall and fair, and Sir Percy -thought he had never seen a more classic face -and nobler bust and shoulders. Her voice, too, -was well modulated, and delicious to hear after -the peacock screams of most of the women -around him. Miss Chantrey had both read -and travelled much, and had the peculiar -advantage of knowing the best people everywhere, -quite irrespective of the smart set. It soon -developed that she and Sir Percy had mutual -friends in England, and had even stayed at the -same great country house, although not at the -same time. Her manner was full of grace and -dignity, but with a touch of coldness like a New -England August day. It was quite unlike the -English. Eleanor was the highly prized -American daughter, whose value is impressed upon -her by that most insidious form of flattery--the -being made much of from the hour of her -birth. Nothing, however, could be farther -from assumption than Eleanor's calm, grave -sweetness, with a little touch of pride. Sir -Percy, smiling inwardly, could not but be -reminded by this gentle and graceful American -beauty of some royal princess before whom the -world has ever bowed. She was well worth -seeking out, however, and Sir Percy, thinking -he was doing the thoroughly American thing, -asked Miss Chantrey if he might, in the name -of their mutual friends, call upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother will be very glad to see you, I am -sure. We receive on Tuesdays," she answered, -and named a house in the most fashionable -quarter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little later Sir Percy found himself -standing among a fringe of men around the -ballroom door. The lancers quadrille was being -danced, and once more he noticed the -black-haired girl dancing, and this time he was -surprised to see that her partner was Senator -March. The Senator went through the square -dance with the gravity and exactness with -which he had learned his steps at a dancing -school forty years before. His partner was -no less graceful in the square dance than in -the waltz, and was more unrestrained, making -pretty little steps and curtsies and movements -of quick grace, which made her dancing the -most exquisite thing of the kind Sir Percy had -ever seen. When the quadrille was over he -suddenly found her standing almost in front -of him, laughing and clinging to Senator -March's arm. Her profile, clear cut as a cameo, -but not in the least classic, was directly in front -of Sir Percy, and he was forced to admire her -sparkling face. She had not much regular -beauty, but her white skin, contrasted with her -black hair, dark eyes and long, black lashes, -was charming. Her mouth was made for -laughter and on the left side was an elusive -dimple. Sir Percy hated dimpled women, but -he found himself looking at the girl's mobile -face and watching the appearance and -disappearance of this little hiding place of -laughter upon her cheek. And, wonderful to -say, she did not screech, but spoke in a voice -that was singularly clear and musical. Some -experience of the American methods of -introducing right and left had been Sir Percy's, and -he was not surprised when Senator March laid -a hand upon his arm and whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I introduce you to this young friend of -mine, Miss Lucy Armytage of Bardstown, -Kentucky? You have heard of Kentucky -horses, haven't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered Sir Percy, with the recollection -of Iroquois and the Derby in his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, the Kentucky horses are not a -patch on the Kentucky women."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case," replied Sir Percy, laughing, -"may I beg you to introduce me to Miss -Armytage at once?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March introduced him in due form, -and Miss Armytage, holding out a slim hand, -cast down her eyes demurely and murmured -that she was glad to meet him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy has only lately arrived in -America," explained Senator March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And has probably never heard of Bardstown, -Kentucky," responded Miss Armytage, -suddenly lifting her eyes and fixing them full -upon Sir Percy. "I am afraid," she said -meditatively, "that I follow the example of St. Paul. -You know he was always bragging about being -Paul of Tarsus, and I am always bragging -that I am Miss Armytage of Bardstown, Kentucky."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pray tell me all about Bardstown," said -Sir Percy gravely, and Miss Armytage, in her -clear, sweet voice, and with equal gravity, -proceeded to a statistical and historical account of -Bardstown, the dimple in her cheek meanwhile -coming and going.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy listened, surprised and amused. -The affected dryness of what Miss Armytage -was telling was illuminated with little turns -and sparkles of wit; and from Bardstown she -proceeded to give, with the utmost seriousness, -a brief synopsis of the history and resources -of the State of Kentucky. Sir Percy grew -more and more amused. He perceived that -she was diverting herself with him, a thing no -woman had ever done before. He had heard -of American humour, but he did not know -that the women possessed it. He felt sure -that Miss Armytage was a real humourist, -and also a sentimentalist when she said, presently:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was at a great dinner in New York last -week, and as we were sitting at the table I -heard an organ grinder in the street outside -playing 'My Old Kentucky Home,' and while -I was listening, and thinking about Bardstown, -two tears dropped into my soup. I never was -so ashamed in my life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked into Sir Percy's eyes with an -appealing air, like a child who knows not whether -it is to be rebuked or praised. Her whole air -and manner radiated interest in Sir Percy as -she asked softly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you suppose the other people at the -table thought of me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy answered her as any other man would:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That you had a very tender heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id1"><span>He was charmed with her simplicity, -combined with her natural grace. A moment after -a young naval officer came up and claimed -Miss Armytage for a dance. She turned to go -with him, but looked backward at Sir Percy -with a glance such as Clytie might have given -the departing lord of the unerring bow. Her -glance, quick yet soft, was much the prettiest -thing of the sort Sir Percy had ever seen. He -perceived that Miss Armytage was the typical -American girl. However, he was much -disgusted, as his eyes followed Lucy, to see her -glancing up into the eyes of Stanley, the young -naval man, with precisely the same look of -appealing confidence with which she had -bewitched himself two minutes before. He hated -a coquette with an Englishman's hatred of -being trifled with by a woman, and immediately -classified Miss Armytage, of Bardstown, -Kentucky, as a very finished coquette, and -concluded not to trouble himself further about her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ball went on merrily, and it was one -o'clock in the morning before the carriages -began to drive away from the </span><em class="italics">porte-cochère</em><span>. -Among the last guests to go was Lucy -Armytage. Sir Percy was standing in the hall when -Lucy tripped down the stairs and joined an -elderly, grey-bearded man standing near Sir -Percy. A long white evening cloak enveloped -her slender figure and a white gauze scarf was -upon her soft black hair. She joined the -grey-bearded man, who had on his overcoat and his -hat under his arm, and then she, glancing -toward Sir Percy, cried softly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so glad I met you. May I introduce -my uncle? Colonel Armytage, of Kentucky, -Sir Percy Carlyon. My uncle is a member -of Congress; in Kentucky that makes him a -colonel, though I can't explain why."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear sir," responded Colonel Armytage, -extending a cordial hand, "I am extremely -pleased to meet you, extremely so! I am of -unmixed English descent myself, and quite -naturally I look upon our country as the mother -of us all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy tried to imagine a member of -Parliament meeting an American as Colonel -Armytage met him, but his imagination was -not equal to anything so extraordinary. He -understood, however, and appreciated the -frank, unconventional good-will which -animated Colonel Armytage, and replied with -sincere courtesy:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am always glad to hear that sentiment from -an American, and be assured we feel the tie of -blood as much as you do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some of you do," answered Lucy oracularly, -"but some of you don't. I can tell you a -harrowing tale of a little upstart Englishman. -Pray excuse me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Armytage scowled at Lucy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must forgive her, my dear sir," he said -to Sir Percy; "this child has a charter to say -and to do as she pleases, and Mrs. Armytage -and myself are under bond to obey her. I shall -have much pleasure in seeing you if you will -honour me with a call. That, I believe, is the -custom in Washington, but I assure you, sir, -in the State of Kentucky, it would be the native -who would call first, and such would be my -desire if it were not for this infernal official -etiquette which forbids it. Mrs. Armytage -and my niece receive on Tuesdays," and he -named a large down-town hotel, which had -ceased to be fashionable about forty years -before, but still was frequented by Southern and -Western representatives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Lucy nodded and smiled and took -Colonel Armytage's arm and was gone in a -moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy followed Lord Baudesert to the -library and joined him in a cigar and a whisky -and soda.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think of 'em?" asked Lord -Baudesert knowingly, and Sir Percy, understanding -that the American ladies were meant, answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very pretty and very well dressed and very -much spoiled, I should judge. I can't quite -make out how much real and how much -apparent cleverness they have."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, neither can any one else," replied -Lord Baudesert; "they are the most complex -creatures alive. You must readjust all your -ideas concerning the sex when it comes to -studying this particular variety. They are not -like Englishwomen, nor Frenchwomen, nor -Spanish women, nor German women, nor -Hindoo women, that ever I heard, yet they have -some of the characteristics of all. Having -been afraid of women all my life--except, of -course, Susan and her brood--I am more -afraid of American women than any others. -Don't marry one, my boy. That's my advice--but -don't tell Susan I say so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trust me," replied Sir Percy confidently, -lighting another cigar.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">III</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon had declined to be -domiciled at the British Embassy, as Lord -Baudesert urged, but took modest chambers -close at hand. He found plenty to do, and -although he was supposed to be capable of -bullying Lord Baudesert, it was impossible to -force the Ambassador to a regular course of -work every day. Sir Percy, however, watched -the chances, and succeeded in getting more out -of Lord Baudesert than any one else had ever -done. Moreover, Sir Percy was a </span><em class="italics">persona grata</em><span> -to Mrs. Vereker and the three girls, not that -this mattered to Lord Baudesert, who, as far -as women were concerned, was a natural and -incurable bully and buccaneer. Lord Baudesert -was neither bad-tempered nor bad-hearted, but -it cannot be denied that he was a trying person -domestically. It was in vain that Sir Percy -reminded his aunt and cousins that Lord -Baudesert had no power of life or death over them -and could not eat them. Mrs. Vereker was -horrified at the suggestion that she should -exercise a little personal liberty, and the three -girls thought Sir Percy slightly cracked when -he advised them to assert themselves boldly in -the presence of their uncle. On the whole, -however, Sir Percy liked his new outlook upon the -world, and considered that he was now in the -sunshine of good fortune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker, Jane, Sarah and Isabella -worked hard in the society grind, and Lord -Baudesert was less lazy in social than in official -life. Sir Percy, up to the evening of the ball, -had not paid a single visit, except of an official -nature, but on the Tuesday afternoon following -he put on a frock-coat and started out -armed with his card case. In front of his own -door he hesitated a moment to think whether he -should call on the Chantreys or the Armytages. -Ridiculous to say, Sir Percy had been haunted -by the remembrance of the airy grace, the -seductive eyes of this provincial coquette--for so -he classified Lucy Armytage; and, calling -himself a great fool, he turned his steps first -towards the down-town hotel where the -Armytages lived. He began to reckon what Lucy's -age might be. She had a peculiar guilelessness -of look and voice and manner which seldom -lasts beyond a girl's twenty-first birthday; yet -he judged her to be not less than twenty-five. -One thing about her, he admitted, was -adorable--an obvious ignorance of evil, a lovely -innocence, which revealed itself readily to the -experienced eyes of a man of the world. Sir -Percy hated knowing women, and that recalled -Alicia Vernon. He doubted if she, even as a -young girl, had ever been truly innocent in mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The afternoon was warm and bright, though -it was December, and carriages full of -elaborately dressed women were dashing about the -streets and standing in long lines before houses -which were open on that day. Sir Percy found, -when he reached the down-town hotel, that -visitors were plentiful there also, and thronged -the halls and staircases. He was shown up to -the great public drawing-room, in which lights -were already blazing, and where a bevy of -Congressmen's wives and daughters were holding a -joint reception. The huge room was well filled, -the ladies being in the majority. Sir Percy, -standing in the doorway, was searching for -Lucy Armytage when a hand was laid upon his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am delighted to see you, Sir Percy," said -Colonel Armytage. "Lucy will be delighted, -too. She has talked about you incessantly since -she met you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the uncle of an English girl had confided to -Sir Percy that she had talked about him -incessantly since their first meeting Sir Percy -would have thought it time to ask for leave -to hunt big game in the Rockies. But, being -a man of brains, he recognised the mental -attitude of Colonel Armytage, and found -himself rather pleased at the thought that this -dark-eyed girl had chatted about him. Probably -he was the first Englishman of his kind -she had ever met. The next moment he was -being introduced to Mrs. Armytage, a motherly -soul, in a black velvet gown, which was the -twin of Mrs. Vereker's robe of state. A little -way off, Lucy, in a white gown, was talking -earnestly with a group of plain, elderly -persons. She turned her head and caught sight of -Sir Percy, but with a little nod and a glint of a -smile she continued her conversation, and even -escorted the little group to the door, where she -said good-bye. Then she came up to Sir Percy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were constituents," she said. "They -are very nice people at home, but they are not -much accustomed to society, and naturally they -feel a little awkward in a room full of strangers -like this. If one takes them in hand, and is -a little pleasant, they are eternally grateful, and -will stand by Uncle Armytage through thick -and thin when the nominating convention is on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see you are a politician," said Sir Percy, -looking down at her and trying to determine -whether white or black were more becoming to -her piquant and irregular beauty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; I am a diplomatist, like yourself," -replied Lucy, looking up with laughing, -unabashed dark eyes into his face. "My uncle, -you see, is not a diplomatist at all, and neither -his worst enemy nor his best friend could call -him a politician. I call him a statesman. He -is the dearest man on earth, but he always acts -on his impulses, and that, you know, is very -unwise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gravity with which she said this made -Sir Percy smile, but Lucy kept on with the air -of an instructress:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, it is unwise. Imagine Lord -Baudesert bolting out the truth upon every -occasion! And that is just what my uncle does. -My aunt thinks him the wisest person in the -world, so you see I am the only one in the -family who is capable of any diplomacy at all. -Now, as I am twenty-five years old----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So old as that?" said Sir Percy, pretending -surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-six next birthday," gravely responded -Lucy, "and I have learned a great deal. -One thing is, that constituents never forgive -one if they are not shown attention in -Washington. I assure you my attentions to -Bardstown people in Washington got my uncle his -last nomination. I took a grocer's daughter -round with me sight-seeing, and I gave nine -teas in one month for Bardstown girls. I didn't -commit the folly of asking for invitations for -them. Nobody thanks you for introducing the -superfluous girl, and I can't see why one should -expect other people to pay one's social debts. -But I paid all my own debts, and made Uncle -Armytage do a lot of things for the Bardstown -men who were here, which he said he hadn't -time to do. But I made him find the time. Isn't -that diplomacy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Diplomacy and good sense combined," answered -Sir Percy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He thought he had never seen so expressive -a face as Lucy Armytage's. Every word she -uttered seemed to have a corresponding -expression of the eye. Her cheeks were colourless, -like the leaves of a white rose, but her lips -were scarlet and showed beautiful and -regular teeth. A charming English girl always -reminded Sir Percy of a beautiful rose in -bloom, but this girl was like the star-like -jessamine, which grows not in every garden, -its white, mysterious flowers hiding in the -depths of its green leaves and casting its -delicious perfume afar. Then Lucy said, -suddenly changing the subject:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been in a dream all day. This morning -I went for a walk far into the country, as -I often do, and I took Omar with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Omar?" asked Sir Percy, not quite understanding her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'The Rubaiyat,' I mean. Everybody reads -it here. It always takes me into another world. -Our life is so vivid, so full of action, so -concerned with to-day, and Omar's world is all -peace and dreaming. I daresay you can read -Omar in the original?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A little; but I didn't know that Americans -liked peace and dreaming."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait until you see more of us. There is -Senator March; I must speak to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned and went up to Senator March, -who had come in and was standing talking with -Mrs. Armytage. Sir Percy remained some -minutes looking at the sight before him. -He was reminded of those meetings of the -Primrose League which bring together all -manner of men and women. Meanwhile -he was acutely conscious of Lucy's presence, -although half the room separated them. -She was indeed like the jessamine flower -whose languorous sweet odour forces one to seek it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy found a few acquaintances, and -while talking with them Senator March made -his adieux and came up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come," he said, "my brougham is below; let -us take a turn together round the speedway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy liked the simple friendliness of -Senator March's tone and manner, and readily -accepted. As the two men passed along the -corridor of the hotel another man was entering -who came up and shook hands with Roger -March. The new-comer carried a satin-lined -overcoat on his arm and his hat in his hand. -His appearance was so striking that to see him -once was to remember him. He was of medium -height, rather handsome, with dark hair -slightly streaked with grey, a thin-lipped, -well-cut mouth, and eyes of peculiar keenness--the -eyes that see everything and tell nothing. A few -pleasant words were exchanged and Senator -March and Sir Percy passed on. Outside, a -handsome brougham, with a pair of impatient -horses, was waiting. The two men entered and -in a little while were whirling along the level -curve of the boulevard which skirts the river. -The sun was sinking redly, and the water was -wine-coloured, in the old Homeric phrase. The -air was like champagne, with a sharpness in -it brought by the breeze from the inland sea -a hundred miles away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you observe," asked Senator March, -"the man I spoke to coming out of the hotel? -It was Nicholas Colegrove, one of those -thoroughly American types that are worth -observing. He is the son of a Congregationalist -minister somewhere up in New England. He -managed to pay his boy's way through a small -college. Then Colegrove went into a railway -office as clerk; by sheer force of intellect he -has forced his way upward until he is the -strongest man in railway circles in this country. -Not that everybody knows it--oh, no! -Colegrove is one of those men who avoids the -shadow of power as much as he loves its -substance. He keeps sedulously in the -background; but there isn't a railway president in -this country who would like to antagonise -Nicholas Colegrove."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One sees at a glance," replied Sir Percy, -"that he is a strong man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A very strong man. He shows a sort of -good will for me, but as I am Chairman of the -Committee on Railroads I don't cultivate the -intimacy of Nicholas Colegrove. I am a little -afraid of the man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are wonderful and diverse American -types," said Sir Percy, "of men and women, -who are so distinctively American that they -seem to belong to this continent as much as -Indian corn and the giant trees of California."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps so, and our friends the Armytages, -for example, are a very distinctive American -type. Armytage himself is a sensible man, a -good lawyer, and a hard worker in the House, -but he is rashly outspoken and fiery tempered. -His wife is a good creature, devoted and -domestic, but of no particular value to Armytage -in his public life, as she always approves of -everything he does. The charming Miss Armytage -is the real political manager of the family. -She is a born diplomatist, if ever I saw one, and -manages to conciliate the enemies whom Armytage -makes by this hasty temper and unguarded -tongue. I admire Lucy Armytage very much, -and have often thought, if ever I had a -daughter, I would wish her to be like her. I -have known her ever since she was a schoolgirl, -and often call her by her first name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought," said Sir Percy, "that American -women took no share in public life?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not openly, but every official position in this -country, including that of the Presidency, has -some time or other been determined by a -woman. I know of a Presidential convention -where, at midnight, a train was chartered and -the party managers, making a run of one -hundred and fifty miles in one hundred and -sixty-seven minutes, knocked up a possible candidate -at two o'clock in the morning and asked if he -would consent to have his name presented to -the convention. 'Wait until I talk with my -wife,' was his answer. He went upstairs, -remained fifteen minutes, and came down and -said: 'No, gentleman; my wife has the doctor's -opinion that my heart is weak, and she refuses -to consent that I shall run.' It turned out -afterward that the nomination would have been -equivalent to an election. Oh, no! our -American women, as a rule, carefully avoid any -appearance of meddling with politics, but they -have a great deal to do with it, -nevertheless, just as the Roman ladies had in their -time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they rolled along in the handsome, -well-hung brougham, each man felt a growing -regard for the other. Sir Percy, after the -English manner, rarely brought a name into -conversation, while Senator March, like an -American, spoke names freely, and presently -mentioned that he was due at Mrs. Chantrey's -for a dinner call.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come with me," he said to Sir Percy; "the -Chantreys will be glad to see you. I know that -Mrs. Chantrey dearly loves a member of the -diplomatic corps, and the daughter is -charming--she is, in her way, as typically American -as Lucy Armytage--I often call the child by -her first name involuntarily."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Chantrey was kind enough to ask me -to call," said Sir Percy, and after a while the -two men were entering together a fine house in -one of the best avenues of the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy might have imagined himself in an -English house. The large pink and white -footman at the door was unmistakably English, and -the quietness of the atmosphere and repose, -which became at once obvious, were as English -as the footman. In the beautiful drawing-room -Eleanor Chantrey sat beside a tea-table drawn -close to the fire. Mrs. Chantrey almost -embraced Senator March when he mentioned the -liberty he had taken in asking Sir Percy to -come with him, and Sir Percy was figuratively -invited to rest on Mrs. Chantrey's bosom--like -the poor stricken deer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Chantrey had a hidden romance, a -heart's dream, a secret aspiration, to be one -day an ambassadress, to share Lord Baudesert's -title and position. To say that Lord -Baudesert's sharp old eyes had seen this, from -its first budding, is putting it mildly. In fact, -the wily old gentleman had, himself, planted -the notion in Mrs. Chantrey's innocent, -susceptible, elderly mind, and carefully cultivated -it. Every season, for ten years past, -Mrs. Chantrey had confidently expected to be asked -to preside over the British Embassy, and every -season she had been disappointed, yet not -without hope. It was one of Lord Baudesert's chief -delights in Washington to play upon the hopes -and fears of various enormously rich widows, -of whom Mrs. Chantrey was the first. And -Lord Baudesert, having something like fifty -years' experience as an accomplished flirt, -managed to keep these ambitious ladies dancing to -a very lively tune. Hence the advent of Lord -Baudesert's nephew was to Mrs. Chantrey a -delightful and encouraging sign, and she was -ready to be an aunt to him at a moment's -notice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only three or four persons were sitting -around the tea-table, all of whom Sir Percy -had before met. There were no introductions, -and when Eleanor Chantrey handed Sir Percy -his tea he could scarcely persuade himself that -he was not in Mayfair. Eleanor Chantrey, -with ten times her mother's brains, had not an -atom of coquetry in her being; she was -perfectly graceful, and with a sort of cool -kindness which suggested sincerity. Instead of -being the same to all men, she was different -in her manner to each person present, -according to her degree of acquaintanceship. To -one infirm old gentleman, who was plainly -uninteresting at his best, Sir Percy noticed that -Eleanor was extremely kind and even cordial -in her manner, and pressed him to remain when -he made a feeble motion to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a pleasant visit, Senator March and Sir -Percy left at the same time; it seemed as if the -two could not see too much of each other. -When they parted, at Sir Percy's door, it was -with the understanding that they should dine -together at the club the next evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clear December twilight was at hand and -a new moon trembled in the heavens as Sir -Percy, instead of going indoors, started for his -invariable walk before dinner. He made -straight towards the west and soon found -himself on a wide avenue recently laid out, with -young trees in boxes on each side. A quarter -of a mile away from the houses it soon ran into -the open fields, with clumps of trees and little -valleys on either hand. Nothing quieter, more -remote or deserted could be imagined, and yet -Sir Percy was but fifteen minutes from his own -door. Not a person was in sight, until, after -a time, he saw, at some distance ahead, and -rapidly approaching, the slight figure of a woman -muffled in furs and walking rapidly. Something -in the grace of her movements attracted -Sir Percy as she came nearer. She held up her -muff to her face in an attitude which reminded -Sir Percy of Vigée le Brun's picture in the -Louvre, "The Lady with the Muff." As the -girl flashed past him in the grey twilight he -recognised Lucy Armytage. A strange and -almost uncontrollable desire suddenly rose -within him to join her, but, with the hereditary -caution of an Englishman, he turned his head -the other way. The next moment Lucy faced -around, and, coming up to him, cried breathlessly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How glad I am to meet you here! Pray walk -with me as far as the car."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no help for it, and Sir Percy, with -the feeling of delight which follows when a -man is forced to do what he wishes to do, -replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With the utmost pleasure. Is it not rather -late for you to be in so lonely a place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Decidedly so. Our reception closed at five -o'clock, just when other people's are beginning, -and a friend asked me to drive out in this -direction for a little air. She left me on a lighted -street, but I wanted to feel the earth under my -feet so I walked around this way. I didn't -realise how late it was until a few minutes ago, -and I was scurrying home half frightened to -death."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she said this, Sir Percy would have liked -to open his arms wide and hold her to his breast -like a timid bird, but Lucy dispelled this idea -by saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Afraid of my uncle, I mean. He makes such -a terrible row when I am out late. I am not in -the least afraid of anything else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her timidity had seemed charming, but her -girlish courage was more charming still. Sir -Percy's head was in a whirl. No woman had -ever impressed him so quickly and so deeply -as this black-eyed girl, and he was staggered -at the intensity of his own pleasure in being -with her. Meanwhile Lucy thought him the -most impassive of men, and felt a curious -feminine desire to disturb that cool placidity which -was so like a lake covered with a thin skin of ice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw you and Senator March going into the -Chantreys'," she said, as they walked rapidly -along in the deepening dusk. "I admire Miss -Chantrey more than any girl in Washington. -At first I thought her a little cold, but her very -coldness is a sort of sincerity. I should like to -have a house exactly like the Chantreys', -except that I would make the atmosphere a little -warmer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She rippled out a laugh, and her eyes, under -their long lashes, sought Sir Percy's in the half -gloom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid that you would find our English -houses a little chilly, and they are not always -redeemed by such grace as Miss Chantrey's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, one expects a little British chilliness in -an English house! You admit, you know, that -your reserve is nothing but shyness after all. -Now I am not in the least shy, and so I have -managed to get on beautifully with the few -English people I have met. My uncle, you -must know, is an Anglomaniac of the deepest -dye, and claims relationship with all the -peerage and half the baronetage. He is the most -prejudiced man! If it were not for me I don't -know what would become of him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy was extremely diverted at the notion -of a slip of a girl taking care of a member of -that great body which had its origin at -Runnymede in the far-off days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stars were coming out in the wintry sky -and it was yet some little distance to the streets -where the gas lamps flared. It was an -enchanting walk to Sir Percy, and without a word -being spoken concerning a street car, or a cab, -Sir Percy and Lucy Armytage walked together -along the quieter streets to the very door of the -big hotel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy Armytage went upstairs to her room, -the typical hotel bedroom, but which she had -transformed into something resembling herself. -She had been proud of the bower-like air -she had given the large square room, and had -regarded with confident admiration the -spotless muslin curtains and the thin white -draperies over her little bed. Now she looked about -her with dissatisfaction. How unlike it was -to Eleanor Chantrey's beautiful and artistic -room! And then Eleanor had an exquisite -yellow boudoir, in which Lucy once had tea -with her. How much beauty and ornament and -luxury was in Eleanor's life! For the first time -Lucy Armytage began to wish for something -which could not be furnished in Bardstown, -Kentucky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At least," she said, rising and speaking to -herself, "I </span><em class="italics">know</em><span> I'm provincial. It is a great -thing to know the limitations of one's horizon. -What a narrow, uncultivated, inartistic, -uninteresting person Sir Percy Carlyon must find -me after Eleanor Chantrey!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she went to her constant and usually -faithful consoler--her mirror. But to-night -even the mirror seemed not in a flattering -mood, and Lucy only saw a disconsolate girl -who, to her mind, could stand no comparison -with that fine flower of civilisation--Eleanor -Chantrey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same moment Sir Percy was smoking -fiercely as he made his way back to his -chambers. From the first moment his eyes rested -upon Lucy Armytage she had commanded his -attention. He had tried to escape from the -enchanting spell she had thrown over him, but -all in vain. What was the meaning of that -stirring of all his pulses, that sudden joy, when -he met her in the twilight? He reminded -himself that he was thirty-eight years old, quite -old enough to know better; that he was the -First Secretary of the British Embassy and -that he had firmly resolved never to allow -himself to become in the least interested in an -American woman. He determined to avoid -Lucy Armytage in the future as a disturbing -element; in short, he resolved to take up arms -against his destiny.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">IV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon kept his word to -himself, and did not go near Lucy Armytage. -Nevertheless he could not avoid seeing her. -One dull afternoon he was taking tea with -Mrs. Vereker and the three girls, who were all so -much alike that only their names differentiated -them. In the midst of the deadly dullness with -which Mrs. Vereker invested this function -visitors were announced. Lucy Armytage with -her aunt arrived to pay their call of ceremony -after the ball. Mrs. Vereker and Mrs. Armytage -were birds, or rather fowls, of a feather, -as each of them was distinctly of the barnyard -variety. They sat and talked commonplaces -comfortably together, like a couple of old sheep -browsing side by side, the lady from Bardstown -and the lady from the greatest metropolis -in the world, and found each other thoroughly -companionable. Not so Lucy Armytage and -the three Vereker girls. Lucy's manner of -saying the unexpected thing, her gravity, which -was really her method of trifling, her quick, -incisive humour, puzzled Jane, Sarah and -Isabella. So also it puzzled Sir Percy Carlyon, -who for that reason found Lucy Armytage the -most interesting woman he had ever known. -She had odd scraps, and even whole volumes, -of knowledge upon the most unexpected -subjects. She knew nothing about art or music, -but she confessed her ignorance with a sweet -humility which bewitched Sir Percy more than -all the knowledge that Minerva carried under -her helmet. Lucy had, however, read much -and indiscriminately about the East, could -discuss occultism intelligently, knew Omar, and -had the Indian Mutiny at her finger tips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The truth is," she said to Sir Percy, holding -her muff to shield her face from the fire and -reminding him once again of the picture in the -Louvre, "we are very old-fashioned in -Bardstown. At home we have a great many old -books, but not many new ones. My uncle hates -modern books, as he does most modern things, -and our library is a haphazard collection of -antiques."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Lord Baudesert entered, and his -appearance created the same flutter among the ladies -of his family as if a vulture had descended -upon a dovecote. Mrs. Vereker hastened to -give him tea, while Jane, Sarah and Isabella -fell over each other in their efforts to provide -him with thin bread and butter. Mrs. Armytage, too, -was somewhat awed by the appearance -of a live Ambassador and, except Sir Percy, -Lucy alone remained tranquil. Lord Baudesert -talked with her a little, and was pleased to find -that she could give a connected answer without -fear or embarrassment. And then an -untoward thing occurred--the door opened, and -at almost the same moment two South -American diplomats, between whom a frantic -controversy and charges and counter-charges were -raging, entered the room. Mrs. Vereker looked -frightened to death, and the Vereker girls could -think of nothing else to say but to invite the -belligerents half-a-dozen times over each to -have tea. Lord Baudesert's manner was -perfect in its evenly matched courtesy, and Sir -Percy Carlyon was not a whit behind. Lucy -Armytage, however, who knew how the land -lay, calmly engaged one of the sultry-eyed -South Americans in conversation, and even got -him off in a corner to look at a picture. Then -Sir Percy, seeing a way out of the situation, -went up to Lucy and her diplomat and asked -them to come into the next room to see a -portrait lately added to the Embassy. With -perfect tact and grace Lucy managed to take the -South American, with Sir Percy escorting -them, into the adjoining room--a service for -which Sir Percy thanked her with a meaning -glance. They were absent only five minutes, -but that gave time for the other belligerent to -take his departure. Then Lucy's diplomat, -after five minutes' talk with Lord Baudesert, -went out, and Lucy and Mrs. Armytage began -to make their adieux. As Lucy offered her -hand to Lord Baudesert he said, smiling:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad I happened to be here when you -called, and more glad that you were here when -our South American friends called."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy gave him a roguish glance, which -brought a smile to his handsome, saturnine old -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she was gone Lord Baudesert, alone in -the bosom of his family, remarked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That might have been a deuced awkward -thing. Miss Armytage stood in the breach and -helped to save the situation. She has a great -deal of natural tact--looks simple, but is really -very artful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon sat soberly drinking his -tea like a true-born Briton, but inwardly he -was not at peace. Lucy Armytage always -moved and interested and disturbed him. He -glanced toward the low chair in which she had -sat and saw her again as "The Lady with the -Muff." He heard her voice, gentle yet ringing, -and the perfume of the lilies of the valley -she had worn pinned upon her breast still -pervaded the room. He remained silent while -Mrs. Vereker and the three girls discussed -Lucy. Mrs. Vereker and Jane thought her -very pretty, Sarah and Isabella thought her not -pretty at all. Lord Baudesert decided that she -was extremely pretty; then they all agreed with -him. When the ladies of the family went away -to dress for dinner Lord Baudesert asked Sir -Percy:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you ever know three such idiots as my -nieces?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are not idiots at all," responded his -dutiful nephew; "they are afraid of you--that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, that's all! But that's enough. -However, with all their dulness, they are better -fitted to be the wives of diplomats than women -like that sparkling little Armytage girl. She -is clever enough at getting people out of a tight -place, but, mark my words, the cleverer women -are in getting out of trouble the readier they -are to get into it. That's why they are not -suited to the diplomatic corps."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I quite agree with you," answered his -nephew, with vigour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy found himself overwhelmed with -dinner invitations, which he accepted partly -as a duty and partly as a pleasure. He -enjoyed the Washington dinners hugely, and -after a while grew accustomed to the shrill, -and often untrained, voices of the American -women. He liked the naturalness and -simplicity both of the men and women he met, and -the absence of the young-lady-anxious-to-be-married -was pleasing to him. He also liked -the wives and daughters of his colleagues, and -often thought, if dinners were the sum of -man's existence on this planet, Washington -was the ideal spot in which to live. Besides his -work at the Embassy, which was not light, he -was making a thorough study of American -public affairs--no small undertaking. Then -Lord Baudesert was continually clamouring -for his nephew's company, so that Sir Percy's -days and evenings were full. So full, indeed, -was his time, that he ought, in the natural -course of events, to have forgotten Lucy -Armytage, of whom he only caught stray glimpses -during the next month.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Armytage promptly returned Sir -Percy's visit, and Sir Percy, by the exercise of -all his will power, managed to call at the hotel -one day just after having seen Lucy drive off -in a hansom. He was rewarded--or punished, -as the case might be--by meeting her face to -face at the White House reception that night. -She was again talking with Stanley, the -handsome young naval officer, dazzling in his -uniform. Lucy stood under the branching leaves -of a huge palm, in the east room, which made -a background for her delicate and </span><em class="italics">spirituelle</em><span> -head. She wore the same black gown in which -Sir Percy had first seen her, and carried a fan, -which she used for the purpose for which it -was designed--to accentuate and set off her -own charms. Sir Percy passed her with a bow -and a word, which she returned with one of -those brilliant smiles that transformed her soft -and elusive beauty into something vivid, -palpitating and star-like. Unconsciously to himself, -Sir Percy kept a furtive watch upon her. He -saw other men come up to drive Stanley off, and -they in their turn were driven off by other -enterprising gentlemen. Some of them were -ridiculously young, and others were obviously old; -but Lucy contrived to make a beardless ensign -feel as if he were a full admiral, and a dry-as-dust -senator forget the burden of his years and -drink once more of the draught of youth. Sir -Percy fully determined not to seek Lucy Armytage -out, and just as this decision was fixed in -his mind he saw her pass upon the arm of -Colonel Armytage. He went up to her, and, -being a close observer, saw Lucy's mobile face -suddenly light up, and the little dimple come -and go in her cheek.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Delighted to see you," said Colonel -Armytage; "my niece is dragging me away just as -I was beginning to enjoy myself. She has been -sending me to bed every night at ten o'clock -because I have had a touch of rheumatism, and -half-past ten, she has just informed me, is too -dissipated for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe Miss Armytage claims entire -authority over you, doesn't she?" asked Sir -Percy, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Absolute jurisdiction. She has taken charge -of my person and estate, and also Mrs. Armytage, -and she manages us both according to -her own ideas."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Armytage said this with a note of -pride in his voice, which an American uses -when he proclaims he is ruled by his womankind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They talked together a few minutes, and then -Lucy and Colonel Armytage passed on to the -cloak-room. When Lucy Armytage was gone -the crowded rooms seemed empty to Sir Percy -Carlyon. He walked home through the still -and quiet streets at midnight and then smoked -savagely for an hour before his study fire. No -man was ever more surprised, annoyed and -chagrined than was Sir Percy Carlyon to find -himself bewitched by this captivating, -provincial girl, and one amazing thing had -happened--she had driven away the image--the -hateful image--of Alicia Vernon. Alicia was -the only woman who had ever deeply impressed -herself upon Sir Percy Carlyon, until he met -Lucy Armytage. There was warfare between -these two ideals. It seemed to Sir Percy as if -Alicia's wantonness had, in a way, cast a shade -over all women. If a creature outwardly so -modest, so refined, so high-bred, could be at -heart a wanton, how could he ever believe in -the purity of any woman's heart and mind? -He dallied with the false suggestion that, if a -woman were dull, she might be good, but if -she were clever, her mind might range afar -into the forbidden paths. Lucy Armytage, -however, from the moment he met her, seemed -to restore his shattered ideal of women. He -had not reasoned, and could not reason, upon -this, but he felt deeply the strong, unconscious -and unacknowledged influence of this girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy, sitting before his fire, repeated to -himself that, in spite of Lucy's charm, there -was every conceivable reason why he should -not seek to marry her. She was an American -to begin with, she had never seen a European -capital, she was not a linguist, and her only -accomplishment, as far as he had seen, was -that of dancing, which was scarcely what an -Ambassadress, as his wife would become, -would find the most useful accomplishment in -the world. He was a poor man for his position, -and there was no indication that Lucy had a -fortune. Then it suddenly occurred to him -that, even if he gave rein to his passion, Lucy -might scorn him. She had not been trained -to appreciate what he had to offer, and she -might classify him with Stanley and the other -youngsters whom he had seen dancing -attendance upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He called himself an ass, and then, his cigar -being out, he lay back in his chair and fell into -a delicious reverie. Supposing that Lucy -might marry him, what charming, piquant -beauty was hers; what insinuating grace; with -what naïveté did she admit her imperfections! -How unerringly did she divine the best way -of making herself acceptable, and how singularly -and completely did she possess that art of -arts--the art of pleasing! Soon his reverie -merged into a soft dream. He was with Lucy -Armytage in the winter twilight and they were -walking together through the cold, bare, winter -woods, and Lucy's slim hand was in his and -her eyes were downcast. He awoke suddenly -and found his fire out and the clock striking -one, and he marched off to bed swearing at -himself for his folly and determining that the -time had come when he must put Lucy absolutely -out of his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next night Sir Percy Carlyon was to -dine at the Chantreys'. Lord Baudesert and -Mrs. Vereker were also of the party. -Mrs. Chantrey thought a member of the British -Embassy but a little lower than the angels, and -to this was added the stimulus that she -confidently expected to be Lady Baudesert before -the year was out. Lord Baudesert encouraged -this harmless delusion in every possible way, -short of actually proposing, and if he had not -been the ablest of diplomatists Mrs. Chantrey -would certainly have married him when he -was not looking. She had, in her own mind, -already rearranged all the furniture in the -British Embassy, decided whom she would -invite to dinner and whom she would leave -out, and intended to be very civil to -Mrs. Vereker. However much Lord Baudesert -might be outwardly diverted by Mrs. Chantrey's -elderly coquetry, he was forced, cynic -though he was, to admire Eleanor Chantrey. -He even went so far as to concede that, if it -were possible for an American woman to be -fitted for an Ambassadress, Eleanor Chantrey -was that woman. Beauty, distinction and -many other accomplishments were hers, and -she would have adorned the highest position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first person Sir Percy's eyes rested upon -as he entered the drawing-room was Lucy -Armytage, and to his rage and delight she was -given to him to take in to dinner. Every -moment thereafter he felt himself falling more -and more in love with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March was among the guests, and -after the ladies had departed and the men were -smoking he said to Sir Percy:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Next month I'm having a little house-party -at a country place I have in the Maryland -mountains. I go there occasionally for a -few days' rest. I hope you will be of the party."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy accepted with pleasure. He had -never met a man for whom he felt a stronger -inclination towards friendship than Roger March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the men returned to the drawing-room -Lucy Armytage and Eleanor Chantrey were -standing together on the hearthrug and talking -with animation. Eleanor was resplendent in -her beauty, but to Sir Percy Carlyon the slim, -black-haired Lucy Armytage seemed to -outshine her as a scintillant star, set high in the -heavens, outshines the great, round, common-place moon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later, driving back to the Embassy in the -big, comfortable coach, Lord Baudesert said to -Sir Percy:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Magnificent girl, Miss Chantrey. She has -everything: beauty, breeding and fortune. If -she were not an American I should advise you -to pay your court in that direction."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But she is an American," replied Sir Percy, -laughing, "and that is the unpardonable sin, -according to my view of a diplomat's career."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That day two weeks Sir Percy Carlyon found -himself at Senator March's country place for -the week end. The party was small but -brilliant. Eleanor Chantrey, her mother and Lucy -Armytage were the only ladies. Their amusements -were simple, and consisted chiefly in the -enjoyment of the country, open in winter, after -a siege in town. Young Stanley, a personable, -pleasant fellow, was among the guests, and his -frank adoration of Lucy Armytage made -everybody smile, except one person, the other -man who was in love with her--Sir Percy -Carlyon. Sir Percy was too well trained and -well balanced to show the chagrin he felt and -the Fates, and the exigencies of a house party, -threw him more with Eleanor Chantrey. He -was forced to admire her, but his admiration -was cool and discriminating. On Eleanor's -part sprung up a strong admiration for Sir -Percy Carlyon. She was not incapable of love, -but her will and intellect were always dominant -over her heart. And then the daughter -repeated her mother's dream of ambition, -marked, however, by the enormous difference -between the dream of a woman and the sense -of a simpleton. Her beauty, her intelligence, -her wealth, her prestige, had inspired her with -what Sir Percy called "the princess attitude of -mind," which looks around and chooses the -man upon whom to bestow her hand. Sir Percy -Carlyon was well fitted to please her, and she -understood perfectly the really splendid -position which would be his in time. She knew, -also, he was a man of small estate, and it -occurred to her, in her half-laughing, half-serious -speculations, that her fortune would be well -applied in maintaining the position of an -Ambassadress. The idea that if she should indicate -the slightest preference for Sir Percy she could -not bring him to her feet did not occur to her. -Her imagination, stimulated by her ambition, -took hold of her, that Sir Percy would be -eminently suitable for her, and she played with it, -as women of the world do with such ideas quite -as much as the veriest country lass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the afternoon before the party broke up -a walk was proposed. As the case always is, -the party paired off, and Eleanor Chantrey -considered herself ridiculously mismated with -Stanley, who was equally dissatisfied. Sir -Percy Carlyon found himself walking with -Lucy Armytage through the winter woods in -the red February afternoon. The dead leaves -were thick underfoot and drowned the sound -of footfalls. Unconsciously the two voices -grew low, and it was like the fulfilment of Sir -Percy's dream. An impulse, stronger than -himself, made him try all his powers on this girl, -with her innocent guile, her unworldly -coquetry. Suddenly he found she vibrated to -him as a violin answers the bow. That was -too much for the resolution of Sir Percy -Carlyon, or for any other man with red blood -in his veins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were the last to return, and at dinner -that night Lucy Armytage's usually pale cheeks -were flooded with a deep colour. She had -promised to be Sir Percy Carlyon's wife.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">V</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon's mystification with -his American </span><em class="italics">fiancée</em><span> began within twenty-four -hours of the time she had given him her first -kiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Above all things," she said earnestly, as they -were supposed to be exchanging commonplaces -in the train, "nothing must be said of this, not -one word to a soul. After a while I will break -it to my uncle and aunt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy stared at her, and wondered -whether he were dreaming or she raving. He -expected, after the English custom, to -announce the engagement immediately to Colonel -and Mrs. Armytage, and what did Lucy mean -by "breaking" it to them? His name, his -position and his prospects were such that the -greatest match in England might not have been -reckoned unequal for him, and here was a girl -from Bardstown, Kentucky, who proposed to -wait for an auspicious moment when she could -"break" this direful news to her aunt and -uncle! Something of his involuntary surprise -showed in his face, and Lucy studied it gravely -and then suddenly laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," she whispered, "you don't understand. -This is </span><em class="italics">our</em><span> secret: the world has nothing -to do with it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought," answered Sir Percy, infatuated, -but still retaining some of the vestiges of -conventionality, "that marriages were quite public -affairs. One has to get a license and be -married in church."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But this isn't being married," explained -Lucy; "this is only being engaged."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the two looked at each other with -adoring but uncomprehending eyes. Lucy's -woman's wit, however, came to her rescue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," she said gravely, "that perhaps you -know more about the ways of the world than -I do, and, after all, there are other ways than -those of Bardstown, Kentucky. So that it shall -be as you wish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She said this with such a pretty lowering of -her long lashes, and so much deep feeling -visible under her coquetry, that Sir Percy was -more than ever charmed. Nor was the sound -sense at the bottom of Lucy's remark lost upon -him. A compromise was effected, by which -Colonel and Mrs. Armytage were to be -informed immediately, and the rest of the world -was to remain in ignorance until within one -month of the wedding day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no suspicion among the others of -the party concerning what had occurred, and -least of all with Eleanor Chantrey and Stanley, -both of whom might be said to have contingent -interests in the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The morning after Lucy's return she was -awakened to receive a bouquet of roses and a -letter from Sir Percy Carlyon. There was -also a note for Colonel Armytage asking -for a private interview. This precipitated -matters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to know," said Colonel Armytage, -standing with his back to the fire in his -own room, with Sir Percy's letter in one hand -and </span><em class="italics">The Congressional Record</em><span> of the day -before in the other, "what this means--'a private -interview.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps," ventured Mrs. Armytage, "he -wants to ask you for a copy of your speech of -yesterday. There is an editorial in the -newspaper about it this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy, dressed in a delicious pink </span><em class="italics">négligée</em><span>, was -standing by the window, holding the roses in -her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she said, coming forward with cheeks -matching the pale beauty of the roses; "he -wants to ask you, uncle--we were together, -you know--and--and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A light dawned upon Colonel Armytage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The fellow wants to marry you," he roared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I want to marry him," answered Lucy, -with much spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then there were kisses and tears and -embraces among all three of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a far cry to England," said Colonel -Armytage, "and I had always hoped you would -marry some rising young lawyer in Bardstown."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Armytage hinted that it might be a -marriage of ambition for Sir Percy, who would -naturally wish to be allied to a man of such -eminent perfections as Colonel Armytage. -At eleven o'clock Sir Percy walked into -Colonel Armytage's room. His manner was -so manly and so debonair, even in his imminent -circumstances, that Colonel Armytage could -not but compare him mentally with those -Kentucky thoroughbreds who are models of -decorum in the stable, on the race track and -wherever they are seen. Sir Percy told his -story and then waited for Colonel Armytage's -decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear sir," said Colonel Armytage, after -a moment, "I appreciate the respectful attitude -you take towards me, but, to tell you the truth, -these matters are in the hands of our young -people entirely. It is the part of parents--and -Mrs. Armytage and I stand in that relation to -our niece--to advise and take precautions, but -not to coerce. However," he continued, -smiling, and showing fine white teeth between his -grey moustache and beard, "I don't think there -is any coercion in this case."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe not," said Sir Percy, with an -answering smile, "these things are somewhat -differently managed in the States than with us, -but the result is the same. Miss Armytage is -doing me the honour of marrying me without -the consideration of certain matters which -must be mentioned between you and me. As -regards settlements, I shall be as liberal as I -possibly can, but I must frankly tell you that -my fortune is modest. All of it, however, shall -be settled upon the future Lady Carlyon and -her children."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg to differ with you there," promptly -replied Colonel Armytage. "I think children are -not to be considered in these matters: I don't -believe in putting a woman in the power of her -children. Every penny I have is settled upon -my wife, and she is my sole executrix, without -bond. That is what I require of any man who -marries my niece, and also that he insures his -life for her benefit, and that her money--for -my niece has some money of her own--shall be -settled upon her irrevocably."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon longed both to laugh and -to swear, but he controlled his inclinations and -said calmly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fully appreciate your point of view, but -you must remember certain obligations which -we, in England, acknowledge to our successors. -My baronetcy will descend to my eldest son, if -I be blessed with a son, and there are moral -obligations in such a case to give a child -something to maintain the rank to which he is born. -With regard to the future Lady Carlyon--what -is hers I desire to remain hers. If I were a -richer man, I think I could convince you of -my disinterestedness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colonel Armytage, like Lucy, had a mind -open to conviction, and, after considering this -speech for a moment or two, acknowledged -that Sir Percy was right. Thus the dangerous -question of settlements was got over without -friction. After a few minutes more of -conversation, Sir Percy asked to see Mrs. Armytage. -That excellent woman, in bestowing her -approval upon his suit, told him earnestly that -to be related by marriage to such a man as -Colonel Armytage was in itself a high privilege -and carried a special blessing with it. Sir -Percy inwardly agreed with this. He was glad -that his future wife was brought up in the -atmosphere of love and kindliness, which -surrounded the Armytages. He had a rapturous -half-hour alone with Lucy, and then went away -feeling that the gates of paradise had been -opened before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In order to escape comment, it had been -arranged that Sir Percy's visits should be on -one or two evenings in the week, when he -would not be likely to meet any of his -acquaintances as he passed in and out of the hotel, or -might be supposed to be going to see a man. -Evening visits, although long since abandoned -by the smart set, still prevail among the -old-fashioned people and the Congressional circle, -in which were most of the Armytages' -acquaintances. Never had Sir Percy imagined that -such delicious hours in life awaited him as -those he spent during the next fortnight in the -Armytages' little sitting-room. Colonel and -Mrs. Armytage, according to the Bardstown -custom, felt it their duty to leave their modest -sitting-room entirely to the lovers; but Lucy, -who was making a close study of Sir Percy -Carlyon's class prejudices, insisted that -Mrs. Armytage should remain. Mrs. Armytage, -feeling guilty, would establish herself with her -knitting before the fire and dutifully fall asleep -within ten minutes of Sir Percy's arrival. The -lovers, sitting in an embrasure of a window and -looking down upon a quiet side street, were -almost as much alone as they had been in the -winter woods, on that February afternoon, -when they had first known each other's hearts. -Sir Percy had a satisfaction which is often -denied lovers--the satisfaction of seeing his -</span><em class="italics">fiancée</em><span> adapting herself with grace and -intelligence to his tastes and wishes. Lucy -Armytage was far too clever to have that deadly -obstinacy which is the bane of provincials, and -which makes them carry their Bardstowns into -every company and association in which they -may find themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It occurred to Sir Percy, a very short time -after his engagement, that the sacrifices which -he was prepared to make for the sake of marrying -the woman he loved might not be so great -after all. Whenever he saw Lucy he found -that she had learned something. She had -picked up a new phrase, or abandoned an old -one which was not in perfect taste; she had -learned to curb her wit and to be on her guard -against those indiscreet words and actions -which are harmless enough in a young girl, -but highly dangerous in the wife of a diplomat. -Sir Percy had begun to believe all he heard of -the adaptability of the American woman after -studying Lucy Armytage, and he saw, with -profound pride, that Lucy was forming herself -to be his wife. One thing only troubled him: -should he confess to her then, or after their -marriage, the story of Alicia Vernon? It was -a difficult thing to tell to a girl so young as -Lucy Armytage, and so guileless, and so little -familiar with wickedness. If penitence could -avail, then he had atoned for that early -wrongdoing. He concluded it would be -kinder for him to wait until after their -marriage, when he could tell her the whole painful -story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One afternoon, three weeks after Lucy -Armytage had promised to become Lady Carlyon, -a letter was delivered at the British Embassy -for Sir Percy Carlyon. One look at the clear, -strong handwriting made him turn pale--it was -Alicia Vernon's hand and the postmark was -Washington. He thrust the letter into his -pocket and, declining Lord Baudesert's -suggestion to come in to tea, went back to his own -chambers. With hatred and repugnance -pulsating all through him, he opened the letter -and read it. The date was of that day, and it -was written from a fashionable uptown hotel.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"We arrived yesterday, my father and I. It -was quite unexpected, for Washington has -always seemed as far away to me and as unreal -as Bagdad, but here we are. We shall call at -the Embassy in a day or two, and meanwhile -my father asks me to say that we shall be at -home at five o'clock every day, and he hopes -to see you soon.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"A.V."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>How like the letter was to Alicia Vernon! -Apparently so conventional, so frankly friendly, -and yet how different was she to all of this! -Sir Percy Carlyon had reached that age and -stage of life when he was sceptical of -reformations. One thing was certain, General -Talbott's presence ensured Alicia Vernon's </span><em class="italics">entrée</em><span> -to the British Embassy, and that she and Sir -Percy would be much thrown together. At -this, rage and shame possessed him. He saw -at a glance the grim possibilities of the case, -and they were enough to stagger a strong man. -He examined the letter before him as it lay -upon his study table, and it seemed to bring -contamination with it. His sin and the shame -had tracked him over the world, and were now -seated, hideous spectres that they were, on each -side of him. He had repented and had atoned -as far as he could, for the sin of his youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose and, throwing his arms wide, despaired -in his heart, and then asked pardon of -that Higher Power to which his soul aspired. -The thought of Lucy came to him like a lash -upon an open wound. Then his mood grew -dogged and a kind of fatalism possessed his -mind. If it were written that Alicia Vernon -should be avenged upon him, then it </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> -written, and struggle were useless. If only he had -not told Lucy Armytage of his love! She, poor -child, might be dragged into the degradation -which awaited him! He remembered that he -was to go to see Lucy that evening after dinner. -The joy he felt at the thought of being with her -was poisoned by the black shadow of Alicia -Vernon's presence in Washington. He had to -pass the hotel where she and General Talbott -were lodged on his way to his club for dinner, -and the place which held Alicia seemed odious -to him. And General Talbott, too; of all living -men he was the man whom Sir Percy should -most wish to meet and to serve; but among the -keenest pangs of his punishment were the -shame and unworthiness he felt in General -Talbott's presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy had some thought of excusing himself -from his semi-weekly visit to Lucy on that -evening, but, doggedness still possessing him, -he went, thinking to himself, at any moment -the explosion might come, any meeting might -be their last, therefore would he have as many -as possible. He had not reached his present -position without acquiring perfect mastery -over his manner, his voice and his countenance, -and Lucy had no suspicion that he was not -entirely at his ease when he entered the -Armytages' sitting-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Never had he seen Lucy more charming than -when she came forward to meet him. She was -full of the lessons in languages she was taking, -especially in rubbing up her superficial -knowledge of French. She had got a French -newspaper, and read with admirable accent some -editorials in which Sir Percy was interested. -Mrs. Armytage went sound asleep as usual, -and the lovers could talk with a sweet -unrestraint. Heretofore it was Sir Percy who had -risen promptly on the stroke of ten, but -to-night it was a quarter past before he stirred, -and Lucy then forced him away. He returned -to his chambers accompanied by the ghost of -his wrong-doing, and the black dog who kept -watch over him prevented him from sleeping -all night long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next afternoon at five o'clock Sir Percy -Carlyon was ushered into General Talbott's and -Alicia Vernon's charming little drawing-room -at the hotel. As he came in, General Talbott -met him with both hands outstretched. Sir -Percy realised, as he always did in General -Talbott's presence, that here was a man of no -common mould. He was small, bald and -low-voiced, but in distinction of bearing and -manner there were few men superior to General -Talbott. This distinction also belonged to -Alicia Vernon, and Sir Percy could not but -recognise it as she rose and advanced towards -him and gave him her hand. She was quite -forty, and showed it. Like most women of her -exquisite blonde type, each year left a visible -mark. Her chestnut hair had lost much of its -lustre, and her fine white skin had little marks -and lines in it, like a crumpled roseleaf. She -had not the freshness and naturalness which -Sir Percy Carlyon reckoned the chief charm of -the American women. Alicia Vernon was the -product of an old civilisation, and showed it; -but her tall and stately figure retained all its -symmetry, and her eyes and her voice and her -smile--ah, they were matchless still! Her -voice, low, soft and clear, had a melancholy -sweetness and power of expression that Sir -Percy Carlyon had never known in any woman's -voice but hers, and her eyes, the colour of -the violets, had in them a depth of fire, and -flickering shadows like the heart of an opal. -Everything about her was individual and -distinctive. Sir Percy was not much versed in -the details of a woman's dress, but he felt, -rather than knew, the beauty of the sweeping, -pale blue draperies which undulated about -Alicia Vernon, and the seductive perfume -which exhaled from everything which she wore -and used. Hers was the charm of the Shulamite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In meeting Sir Percy her manner and tone -were perfectly calm, friendly and composed. -Towards her father she was always perfect; -and his air of tender, chivalrous protection was -touching and beautiful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three sat around the fire and talked -intimately, as friends do after a long absence. -Mrs. Vernon offered Sir Percy a cup of tea, -and even handed it to him with her own hands -sparkling with gems, but he declined it. If it -had been in Italy during the time of the Borgias -he would have hesitated to drink any cup -offered him by Alicia Vernon. She said little, -leaving the conversation chiefly to her father -and Sir Percy. As they talked she sat in a -large chair, her head half turned towards Sir -Percy and holding between the fire and her -face an antique fan painted by Greuze. She -had been a slip of a girl when her lips had -sought Sir Percy's, and had shown him, in -triumph, her long, bright hair; but in some -things she was unchanged, and Sir Percy felt -that a stripling of to-day, such as he had been -in the old days, would not be safe with -Mrs. Vernon. While they were talking Lord -Baudesert's card was brought to General -Talbott. On it was scrawled:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My first chance to take the air. Gout has me -by the leg, so come down and drive with me -for an hour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Talbott rose at once. Sir Percy had -no excuse to leave at the same time and -remained perforce.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the door was shut on General Talbott -Sir Percy Carlyon's face changed into the hardness -of a flint, and he sat silent waiting to see -what position Mrs. Vernon would take with -him. She too remained silent for a while, -fixing upon him two wells of violet light. The -setting sun streamed through a western -window upon Sir Percy's face, and she studied it -carefully. No; he was not handsome even as a -young man, and at thirty-eight his moustache -was growing grey and his hair scanty, and -there were crow's feet in the corners of his -eyes. But what did that matter to her? He -was the most considerable man upon whom she -had ever tried her power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After all," she said presently, her low voice -filling the room as a trained singer's softest -note is heard at the Paris Opera, "I was right -even in my youth, and knew that before you -was a great destiny. You are to be the next -Ambassador here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you know that?" asked Sir Percy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Partly by observation and partly by a clever -guess. I have been staying in the same house -with the Prime Minister, and quite naturally -we spoke of you. I told him that we were old -friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she said the last two words Sir Percy -Carlyon turned away his head and a dull flush -dyed his sunburnt face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However, those are matters really of -prescience. I was very young when we loved, but -even then I knew that some day you would be -a great, if not a famous, man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am neither," responded Sir Percy, taking -refuge in commonplace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then there was silence again for a time. The -firelight played over Mrs. Vernon's face and -figure and the masses of pale blue draperies, -and over the tip of her pale blue slippers, upon -which stones sparkled. Her eyes were fixed -upon Sir Percy, and, raising herself in her -chair, she leaned over towards him and said calmly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Guy Vernon, you know, has been dead more -than a year."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy knew what she meant--that she was -now free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had not heard it," he replied with equal -calmness. "I hope that your latter days with -him were happier than the earlier ones."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had not seen or spoken with him for several -years. We had much unhappiness together. -If I had been happily married----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke off suddenly and then continued -after a while:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be hypocritical for me to express -any grief at Guy Vernon's death, and, -whatever I am, I am not a hypocrite--except to my -father. I love him, for I can love, and he is -the one person I really fear--except you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she spoke she leaned forward again, and, -closing her fan, almost laid the tip of it upon -Sir Percy's hand, outstretched on the arm of -his chair. In another instant it would have -been a caress, but Sir Percy coolly moved his -hand and Mrs. Vernon quickly withdrew the fan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"General Talbott is a man very much to be -feared as well as loved," was his answer. -"Whenever the memory comes to me of what -I owe him and how I repaid him I feel like -shooting myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But we were very happy in that time," -murmured Alicia, leaning back and letting her -hands fall in her lap as she watched the fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy rose and Alicia Vernon rose too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know very well," she said, showing -some agitation, "why I came here. I wanted -to see you. I am a fool, of course--every -woman is about some man. I have tried to -forget you, I have been trying to do that for -twelve years, but I have not yet succeeded. Do -you remember those tragic stories of the -Middle Ages, when a woman who loved a man -would dress herself as a page and follow him -to the Crusades? Such are the women who -knew how to love; not those conventional -creatures who sit by the fire and to whom one -man is the same as another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she spoke her eyes filled and two large -bright tears dropped upon her cheeks, and she -pressed her handkerchief to her eyes with a -trembling hand. Sir Percy had meant to be -stern with her, but no man, if he be a man, -can be stern to a woman in tears. He -remained silent for a minute or two, moved, in -spite of himself, at Alicia Vernon's emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alicia," he said, and then paused. It was -the first time he had called her by her name -for years, and as he spoke her eyes lighted up -and a sad smile played about her mouth. "I, -least of all human beings, can reproach you. I -am willing to take upon myself all the guilt, -all the shame, of that bygone time, but it was -guilt and shame, and let us not deceive ourselves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was it guilt and shame?" she asked in her -thrilling voice. "Was it rather not fate? I -was married at twenty to a worthless wretch. -I was formed to love and be loved, and I found -myself tied to a creature like Guy Vernon. -Then I met in you the man for whom I was -meant and I came into my own. At least I -was disinterested, for then you were both poor -and obscure. I never had one regret for -anything that happened. Do you suppose that -Marguerite Gautier regretted, even when she -was dying, that she had loved Armand? I -always go, when I can, to hear that opera, </span><em class="italics">La -Vie de Bohème</em><span>. Mimi's death is really a -triumph of love. Let me tell you this: no woman -who ever loved ever regretted it. If she -regretted it she did not love. Men feel and act -differently about these things. You know you -loved me once and you have seemed to hate me -ever since, but love will prevail--it will yet -prevail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a piteous sight to see her with clasped -hands and the glory of an undying hope in her -eyes and voice. To make her believe that the -end had come long since between Sir Percy -Carlyon and herself was like fighting a shadow. -The resolve took possession of Sir Percy to tell -her of Lucy Armytage, and then she might -realise the inevitable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will speak no more of the past," he said, -"and I will tell you what has happened in the -present. I have met a woman whom I truly -love, and she has promised to marry me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon turned deathly pale, and stood -looking at him with eyes like those of Dido -when she saw Æneas sail away from her. She -walked steadily to the window and looked with -unseeing eyes at the glory of red and gold in -which the sun was sinking. Sir Percy -Carlyon, standing where she had left him, had to -battle with his common-sense. Reason told -him that he had done this woman no -injury--rather she had injured him--and although -Alicia Vernon's protestation of love for him -carried with it conviction of truth, it had not -kept her in the straight path. Nevertheless he -felt as if he had struck her a physical blow. -Presently she came from the window towards -the fire, and said to Sir Percy what any woman -of forty would say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The girl you love is young?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the way of the world," cried -Alicia--"youth is everything. What is it François -Coppée says? 'There is nothing for women -but a little love when they are young.' I ask, -however, one thing of you. You can scarcely -refuse it." Sir Percy remained silent. He did -not refuse it, but he was too much on his guard -to promise it. "Only this, let me see this -woman whom you prefer to me. You think it -childish? Very well; all women have -something of the child in them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy went towards the door, and his face, -already dark and flushed, grew still darker. -Alicia came up to him and said with pleading -in her voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't suppose that I would let her -suspect anything? I think I have shown that I -know how to keep the secrets of my life. I -would hardly be so foolish as to betray myself -to this girl who has succeeded where I have -failed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came one of the most exquisitely painful -moments of Sir Percy Carlyon's life. The -thought of bringing Lucy Armytage into the -same room with Alicia Vernon filled him with -rage and shame. Rather than see Lucy -Armytage become what Alicia Vernon was he would -have killed her with his own hand. Something -of this dawned upon Alicia's mind as she looked -at him. It flashed from her eyes and burst into -words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the old story. You are worthy to -marry her, but I am not worthy to speak to -her. Oh, what a world it is!"</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 65%" id="figure-29"> -<span id="it-is-the-old-story-you-are-worthy-to-marry-her-but-i-am-not-worthy-to-speak-to-her"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'It is the old story. You are worthy to marry her, but I am not worthy to speak to her'"" src="images/img-100.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'It is the old story. You are worthy to marry her, but I am not worthy to speak to her'"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the world which has made that law, not -I," responded Sir Percy. "Don't think that I -reckon myself worthy to marry this woman -whom I love--I only hope to make myself a -little less unworthy. Ever since the world was -made it has demanded more of women than of men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That law sounds well when it is enforced -by you against me. Good-bye," was Alicia's -response.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">VI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon went out into the -cool March air, which steadied his -much-shaken nerves. He had refused to bring about -a meeting between Alicia Vernon and Lucy -Armytage, and with masculine directness made -not the slightest secret to himself why he did -it. Yet he was not without shame at the part -he had played in the matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was early for his walk, as the spring -afternoons were growing longer. He struck out -toward the northwest and walked for an hour. -As he was returning he reached the top of the -hill, where the paved streets began, when Lord -Baudesert's carriage with its high-stepping -bays overtook him. Lord Baudesert called out -of the window, and in another minute Sir Percy -was sitting in the carriage opposite Lord -Baudesert and General Talbott.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is rather pleasant," said Lord Baudesert, -"to come across a countryman once in a while, -and not to be always considering American -susceptibilities. Talbott, here, is delighted with -the country as far as he has got. I told him -it is the most interesting, as it certainly is the -most complex, of all nations and societies." Lord -Baudesert leaned back in the carriage and -settled himself comfortably to talk upon that -agreeable subject, his own affairs. "The -Ambassadors at Paris and Berlin and other -European capitals have an easy berth compared -with mine. I can walk in and talk with the -President and arrange affairs to our mutual -satisfaction. It might be supposed that I had -accomplished something, as it would be in any -Chancellery of Europe, but not here, if you -please. At the next Cabinet meeting the -Secretary of State may say that it is all a stupid -blunder on the part of the President, or the -Attorney-General may put in his oar, and all -goes to smash. Then, if it gets as far as the -approval of the Secretary of State, and the -permission of the Attorney-General, as soon as -it is done up in official form, it goes to the -Senate. The Senate likes to lay the Secretary -of State by the heels and the British Ambassador -on top of him; and that is where our -carefully studied arrangements generally land. The -House of Representatives, too, can generally -find a peg on which to hang some objection, -and, if there is any money involved, we can't -turn a wheel without the help of the House. -That is diplomacy in America."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you get anything done, then?" said -General Talbott.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are ways, my dear Talbott. The -Speaker of the House is a useful man to have -as a friend, and there are, besides, a few men -in the Senate who can deny themselves the joy -of tripping up an Ambassador. One of them -I particularly desire you to meet--Senator -March. He stands high with the administration, -and with everybody, in fact. He is an -uncommonly able man, and has a candour and -fairness which disarms opposition. I should -not venture to call him absolutely the most -gifted man in the Senate, or the most profound -lawyer, or the most brilliant speaker, but, take -him altogether, I consider him the strongest -man in public life in Washington to-day. You -will meet him when you dine at the Embassy -next week. I will send a card in due form to -yourself and Mrs. Vernon. I think I had the -pleasure of meeting your daughter once before -her marriage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That marriage turned out most unfortunately -for my poor child," replied General Talbott, -with the peculiar tenderness in his voice -with which he always spoke of Alicia. "Guy -Vernon had a large fortune, but he was a -scapegrace inborn. My daughter was young, -innocent, and had never had the command of -money, so you may imagine she made some -mistakes, but she was most cruelly treated; that -I found out after her patience could no longer -stand her husband's unkindness. Vernon died -more than a year ago, after having lived long -enough to ruin the life of my only child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon, sitting with his back to -the horses, listened with an impassive face to -General Talbott's words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Vernon had her settlements, had she -not?" asked Lord Baudesert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. But she and Vernon between them -managed to get some of the provisions of that -arrangement set aside, and spent a great part -of the money which was supposed would be a -provision for my daughter in the event of -Vernon's death. Luckily, there were no -children. I shouldn't care to have a grandchild -with Guy Vernon's blood in him. My daughter -is an angel. Pardon a father's pride."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She looked an angel," replied Lord Baudesert, -"when I saw her in the first bloom of -her beauty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon, listening to this, reflected -that his shrift would be short if General -Talbott knew what had happened twelve years -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Baudesert dropped General Talbott at -his hotel, then drove back with Sir Percy to -the Embassy, where Sir Percy joined the -family circle at dinner. When the ladies left the -table and the uncle and nephew were alone was -Lord Baudesert's favourite time for exchanging -confidences with Sir Percy. To-night he -chose the subject of General Talbott and his -daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"While I have not seen Talbott's daughter for -many years, I remember well what a beautiful -and captivating young girl she was, but it -seems to me that I have heard rumours--eh? -Bad marriage, worthless husband, -and gay wife. Do you know anything about it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy then calmly and deliberately -proceeded to lie like a gentleman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing except what the world knows. I -saw a great deal of Mrs. Vernon twelve years -ago when I was in India. As you see, General -Talbott is a most devoted father and -Mrs. Vernon a most affectionate daughter. She was -virtually separated from Vernon when I first -knew her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And had squandered a lot of money?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both of them were spendthrifts, as far as -that goes. Mrs. Vernon was a beautiful young -woman and much admired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And a little gay, perhaps?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that I ever heard," responded Sir Percy -coolly, looking Lord Baudesert in the eye. "It -would be hard to believe that General Talbott's -daughter were not everything she should be. -He is, I think, altogether the finest man I ever -knew."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Baudesert, with a catholic interest in -beauty, asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You saw Mrs. Vernon this afternoon. Is -she still beautiful?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy paused before answering this -question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, she is still beautiful, but she is no longer -a girl, of course. If you will excuse me now, -I will join my aunt in the drawing-room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy went from bad to worse--because -as soon as he appeared in the drawing-room -Mrs. Vereker and the three girls fell upon him -like playful sheep and began to ask him all -manner of questions about Alicia Vernon. -Was she a great beauty, as Mrs. Vereker had -heard, and was she going to marry somebody -else, now that Guy Vernon was dead? Jane -wished to know how Mrs. Vernon dressed her -hair. Sarah inquired if her sleeves were large -or small, according to the latest London -fashion, and complained that, for her part, -Americans changed the mode of their sleeves -so often that she could not keep up with them! -Isabella yearned to know whether Mrs. Vernon -smoked cigarettes or not. Sir Percy almost -laughed at the latter suggestion. He had never -seen any woman in his life so careful to pay -the tithe of mint, anise and cummin to the -world as Alicia Vernon, or more ready to avoid -the weightier matters of the law. The slightest -aroma of fastness was rigidly forsworn by -her, and no Cromwellian ever kept out of the -way of the fast set more absolutely than did -the lady of the violet eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of this patter of questions Lord -Baudesert entered the drawing-room, and the -three girls suddenly grew mute, while -Mrs. Vereker asked Lord Baudesert, for the fourth -time that evening, if the east wind hadn't given -him a touch of gout. Having answered this -question three times with much savagery, Lord -Baudesert let it pass, and demanded pen and -paper, directing Isabella, who was the family -scribe, to make out the list for the dinner which -was to be given next week in honour of -General Talbott and Mrs. Vernon. The first name -put down was Senator March, and then followed -a list of eight or ten other representative -men whom Lord Baudesert thought General -Talbott would like to meet. The selection of -the women was more difficult. By way of -disciplining Mrs. Vereker, who did not need it in -the least, Lord Baudesert commanded Isabella -to begin the list of ladies as follows:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Chantrey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker ventured to say feebly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Chantrey has already dined here twice -this season."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She may be dining here oftener than you -think," was Lord Baudesert's menacing reply, -and Mrs. Vereker, in her mind's eye, saw -Mrs. Chantrey as the future Lady Baudesert, -presiding with much majesty over the British Embassy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some girls were required for the unmarried -men who were asked. It was the unwritten -law that at dinners only one of Mrs. Vereker's -covey should appear at the table--an honour -which was always received with nervous -apprehension by the successful candidate. This -time it was Isabella who was the Jephtha's -daughter of the occasion. Mrs. Vereker -suggested several girls, but each one was -remorselessly thrown out by Lord Baudesert on -various grounds. Presently he asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the name of that girl who was here -on the afternoon the two South Americans -called, and helped to pull us out of the hole?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Armytage," replied Mrs. Vereker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She struck me as rather an unusual sort of a girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker, with her usual capacity for -misunderstanding Lord Baudesert's meaning, -replied faintly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, very unusual! She is from a little -town called Bardville in Tennessee, or is it -Indiana? I forget which. Of course she would -not do at all, and we never thought of -suggesting her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put down Miss Armytage," snapped Lord Baudesert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The comedy suddenly became a tragedy to -Sir Percy Carlyon. So, then, Alicia Vernon -and Lucy Armytage were to be brought face -to face after all--and it filled him with a dumb -rage. Isabella, meaning to conciliate her uncle, -murmured:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A lovely girl, Miss Armytage, so intelligent, -so interesting!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A provincial, if ever I saw one," was Lord -Baudesert's response to this. "Nevertheless she -has some beauty and a pretty voice, and we will -have her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Lord Baudesert had retired to his -library Mrs. Vereker and the three girls talked -in subdued tones for fear the ogre might hear -them. They mournfully agreed there must be -something between Lord Baudesert and -Mrs. Chantrey, and Sir Percy was appealed to for -his opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Baudesert wouldn't marry Helen of -Troy if she had all the virtues of St. Monica -and John D. Rockefeller's wealth into the -bargain," was Sir Percy's consoling answer. -"He simply talks about Mrs. Chantrey to worry -you. I wish them both joy if they get each -other, but there isn't the shadow of danger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker, however, refused to be comforted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what a surprise that he should have -gone out of his way to ask Miss Armytage, -whom he frankly called a provincial! Surely, -in the language of the hymn, it might be said -of Lord Baudesert, 'He moves in a mysterious -way, his wonders to perform.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy had promised to stay all the -evening, but he broke his promise and left early. -He began to believe that Fate, and not he, -would settle when and how Lucy Armytage -would hear the painful story of his youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the next week Sir Percy Carlyon saw -General Talbott every day, and for hours, and -it was inevitable that he should see much of -Alicia Vernon. He did the regular sight-seeing -with them, drove with them through the park, -went with them to Mount Vernon, and, in -short, acted as their cicerone. Nothing could -exceed the grace and composure of Alicia -Vernon's manner, and in her defeat she was -not unlike General Talbott in the few rebuffs -that he had experienced during his life. If -Sir Percy Carlyon had been a younger or more -sanguine man he would have felt quite at ease, -but he knew Alicia Vernon too well ever to feel -at ease in her neighbourhood. She was not -the woman to lay obvious snares and traps to -find out things, much less to fall into the open -vulgarity of asking questions, yet Sir Percy -felt that her sharp intelligence was at work on -every word and phrase he uttered, to find out -what he had refused to tell her--the name and -habitat of the woman he loved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cards and invitations began to pour in upon -General Talbott and his daughter, but the -dinner at the Embassy was the first formal -entertainment which they attended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy's first meeting with Lucy Armytage -after Alicia Vernon's arrival was purely -accidental. He had taken his late afternoon walk -eastward, and as he crossed, after sunset, the -deserted plaza of the Capitol he noticed Lucy's -slim figure standing in the purple dusk upon -the Capitol terrace. She did not know he was -near until he spoke, and then she turned, her -face and eyes flooded with the joy of the -unexpected meeting. She had come from the -National Library with a book, and announced her -intention to walk back to the hotel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Since I am to be an Englishwoman, I shall -probably be more English than the English -themselves. I walk everywhere, and I have -bought a pair of large thick boots, which my -uncle declares he can't tell from his own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy's feet were slender enough to take this -liberty with them. Lucy was full of her -invitation to dinner at the British Embassy, where -she had never dined before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be different," she said, "from any -dinner I was ever at, because when Lord -Baudesert and Mrs. Vereker know--you -understand"--Sir Percy understood well enough, -and Lucy continued--"they will, of course, look -back and begin to canvass me and I want them -to have a good opinion of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To which Sir Percy, like a true lover, replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could they have any other?" Yet the -thought of Lucy coming face to face with -Alicia Vernon made him sick at heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was still light enough for them to remain -out of doors twenty minutes, and the region of -the Capitol, which swarmed with people during -the day, was absolutely deserted. A sudden -impulse prompted Sir Percy to say to her, as -they strolled slowly along the quiet streets in -the twilight:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have something to ask of you, something -I hope you will grant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy turned upon him two laughing, adoring -dark eyes; but the look upon Sir Percy's face -sobered her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is this--to have enough faith in me to -accept my word. There is something in my -past life, something which the world might -think of no great consequence, something I will -tell you all about when we are married. It will -be a confession, but I repented of it long before -I ever met you, and I have repented of it a -thousand times more since."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could not marry any man whose word I -could disbelieve," replied Lucy with calm confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked together until within a square -of the hotel, when Lucy demanded that Sir -Percy should leave her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening of the Embassy dinner came, and -Sir Percy Carlyon, who always acted as -assistant host, was the first guest to arrive. -Almost immediately General Talbott and Alicia -Vernon followed. Alicia, like most Englishwomen, -was at her best in the evening. She -was one of those rare women who could wear -jewels in her hair and look well, and to-night -she sparkled with gems. No woman could -cross a drawing-room floor with more grace -than Alicia Vernon, or could sit and rise and -bow with greater dignity. She was more like -an enthroned queen than a pretty princess such -as Lucy Armytage's air and manner suggested -when she entered the drawing-room. Nevertheless -their charms were so different that they -enhanced, rather than outshone, each other. -Lucy carried in her hands a huge bouquet of -violets. They had been Sir Percy's gift, and a -whispered word of thanks, unnoticed by any -one, repaid him. Alicia Vernon, apparently -absorbed in conversation with various persons -who were introduced to her, after the -American fashion, watched closely every woman as -she entered the room. She was the last woman -in the world to underrate her rival, and with -discernment saw that this black-haired girl -with the milk-white skin was easily the most -attractive woman present. Mrs. Chantrey and -Eleanor were the last to arrive. The former -wore at least a quart of large diamonds strewn -over her person, and, recalling with triumph -that this was her third dinner at the Embassy -during the season, considered herself as good -as married to Lord Baudesert, and adopted -condescending airs towards weak Mrs. Vereker. -Alicia had claimed a woman's prescience -in matters of the heart. She felt instinctively -that the beautiful Eleanor Chantrey was not -the woman whom Sir Percy loved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not a soul except herself at the long, brilliant -dinner-table suspected anything between Sir -Percy Carlyon and Lucy Armytage, who sat -opposite each other. But Alicia Vernon's -violet eyes saw everything without watching. -She knew the English habit of not conversing -across the table, but she observed that Sir -Percy Carlyon spoke to Lucy Armytage once -or twice. Lucy, herself, instead of answering -him with the gaiety and spirit she showed in -her conversation with her neighbours, replied -to Sir Percy with only a brilliant smile and a -word or two. The indications were so slight -that not even the hawk-eyed Lord Baudesert -noticed them, but nothing escapes a jealous -woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, never had Alicia Vernon exerted -herself more to please. She sat on Lord -Baudesert's right hand and on her left was Senator -March. Mrs. Vernon was a better listener -than talker. She had not the naïve -effervescence of the American women, but she had -a softness, a charming air of listening with -profound attention, which few American -women ever acquire. Senator March, struck -from the beginning by her manner of the -highest breeding, admiring her mature beauty and -charmed by her subtle and even silent flattery, -thought it the pleasantest dinner he had ever -attended. Eleanor Chantrey sat on the other -side of him and he experienced a glow of -pleasure which a man feels when he basks in -beauty's light. But Eleanor Chantrey was not -much older than Lucy Armytage and her range -of conversation was strictly limited to what -had happened since she came out in society. -Senator March had passed his fiftieth birthday -and liked to talk about things which -happened twenty-five years before. He had an -agreeable feeling with Mrs. Vernon of being -contemporaries, which he could not feel with -a younger woman. Alicia Vernon, on her part, -recognised Senator March's virtues as a dinner -man and was tactful enough to keep to herself -the surprise she felt at finding an American so -accomplished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the ladies left the table and the -gentlemen's ranks were closed up for that -comfortable after-dinner conversation, which is still -the heritage of the Englishman, Lord Baudesert -took pains to bring General Talbott and -Senator March into conversation together. -Between the two men a good understanding -was instantly established. General Talbott did -not lose interest in Senator March's eyes for -being the father of the charming woman who -had sat next him. With the frank friendliness -of the American, he made greater -headway in General Talbott's acquaintanceship -during their half-hour's talk than many -Englishmen make in a month's companionship. -Simultaneously Senator March asked permission -to call, and General Talbott gave a cordial -invitation to him to do so. Lord Baudesert was -in high feather. The dinner had been pleasant -and agreeable and he was pleased that General -Talbott should see what admirable dinner -guests Americans of the best sort made. Sir -Percy Carlyon appeared to be in his usual form, -but, as he sat smoking and talking pleasantly, -the thought that Lucy Armytage and Alicia -Vernon were at that moment in the same room, -on the same terms, and reckoned to be of the -same sort, gnawed him like some ravenous -beast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vernon at that very time was sitting on -a sofa with Lucy Armytage, and with perfect -art and tact was finding out from her many -things which the girl was quite unconscious of -betraying. Alicia Vernon was puzzled by the -fact of a secret engagement, because Sir Percy -had told her that the girl he loved had -promised to marry him, and this was evidently -unknown to the rest of the world. Without the -least trouble, by asking a few half-laughing -questions about the custom of engagements in -America, Alicia Vernon discovered that such -things as unannounced engagements existed -and were not considered discreditable. Lucy -answered readily, but in speaking her pale -cheeks took on a colour like the faint pink of -the azalea. Alicia led her on without questions, -but with clever suggestions, to tell of her -employments, of the books she read and many -other things, which Lucy told frankly and -without the slightest suspicion that she was -being cross-examined, and was adding link by -link to the chain of evidence which had begun -with the mere probabilities of a guess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon's heart burned within her. She -would like to have forgotten Sir Percy -Carlyon long ago, as she had forgotten many -others. She knew that her feeling for him was -an infatuation, but in some strange manner he -had dominated her imagination from the -beginning. It was the most dangerous, on account -of General Talbott, of all the affairs in which -she had ever been engaged; but all women like -Alicia Vernon have one tragic love. The old -Greek superstition that those who defy love are -punished works out in a different civilisation -with those who dishonour love, paying for it in -blood and tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon had said to Lucy:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy Carlyon and I are old friends. We -met first in India twelve years ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy had enough mother wit not to express -surprise or to betray how much she knew of -the incidents of Sir Percy's life. But she was -no match in </span><em class="italics">finesse</em><span> for Alicia Vernon, who -found out, without the least trouble, that the -girl knew certain dates, places and events -which she could not have known except from -Sir Percy Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sight which greeted Sir Percy when he -entered the drawing-room was Alicia Vernon -and Lucy Armytage still sitting upon the small -sofa together, apparently conversing with -intimacy. A tall, red-shaded lamp cast a rosy -glow over the woman and the girl, and fell upon -Alicia Vernon's rich hair, in which a few grey -threads showed. Her beautiful eyes were fixed -upon Lucy with an expression which Sir Percy -Carlyon knew perfectly well. He surmised in -a moment what had happened. Lucy was -clever as girls are clever, but with Alicia -Vernon she was as a bird in the snare of the -fowler. His poor little Lucy!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The irruption of the gentlemen into the -drawing-room was greeted with enthusiasm, as -it always is. Mrs. Chantrey made a dive for -the Ambassador, and, wedging him into a -corner with a chair, leaned over it girlishly and -ogled him, much to Lord Baudesert's delight. -Nothing he had ever known in his life had -diverted him quite so much as Mrs. Chantrey's -determination to become Lady Baudesert if -she could possibly contrive it. Lord Baudesert, -as usual, made plaint of his poverty outside of -his official income, and omitted to mention that -his private income was something like £10,000 -a year. Mrs. Chantrey then held forth -eloquently upon the worthlessness of money -except to help those one loves. Lord Baudesert, -with </span><em class="italics">malice prepense</em><span>, led her to the verge of -an offer of marriage before making his escape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon drew up a chair close to -the sofa on which sat the woman he hated and -the woman he loved, and smiling and outwardly -at ease, talked with both of them. Senator -March, too, soon gravitated that way. He -wished to see more of his late neighbour with -her low, delicious voice and her beautiful, -melancholy eyes. Then quite naturally came out -the story of the late house party at his country -house, and what the guests did to amuse themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very quiet up there," said Senator -March; "we are in the Maryland mountains, -you see, and there are no ruined abbeys to visit, -no hunt balls, or anything of the sort. We -simply walk and read and rest and talk; but -my friends who give me the privilege of their -company are so kind that I feel that they enjoy -their visits almost as much as I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy hastened to corroborate this, and Sir -Percy added pleasantly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The pleasure you offer us is just what we -like best. I remember those country walks in -which the ladies sometimes did us the honour -to join us. Don't you remember them, Miss -Armytage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon understood this as a cool defiance -of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must pay me another visit as soon as -possible," cried Senator March. "The country -is looking beautiful, now that spring is -approaching. Perhaps Mrs. Vernon and General -Talbott will do me the honour to join us? Of -course, I count upon you, Miss Armytage and Sir Percy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lucy accepted promptly. So did Sir Percy, -with the mental reservation that Lucy should -stay away from any house-party of which -Alicia Vernon was to be a member.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the guests were leaving, Alicia passed Sir -Percy and said to him, unheard by any one else:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is she."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Driving back in the carriage, General Talbott -expressed to Alicia his enjoyment of the -evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not been to a pleasanter party for -a long time. What a fine fellow Senator March -is! He has an enormous fortune, Lord Baudesert -tells me, but lives very simply. He has no -capacity for money-making, and the beginning -of his fortune was an inheritance, and he became -rich rather by accident than effort. It is years -since I met a man who pleased me so well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Alicia told the thought which had -occurred to her many times during the evening:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't think that Americans could have such -good manners as some of those people had."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even while she was speaking her mind -was upon that strange problem, why could -she not cast off the memory, the passion for -Sir Percy Carlyon? He hated her and she -knew it, but that only made her love him the -more, as she reckoned love--so curious a thing -is the heart of a woman.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">VII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The very next day Senator March called -upon General Talbott and Mrs. Vernon and -found them both at home. Alicia seemed to -him even more charming than on the evening -before. There are few occasions that a woman -appears better than when dispensing the simple -hospitality of her own tea-table, and it is a -charm which many Englishwomen possess. -Alicia Vernon had it in great perfection, and -her tea-table gave an air of home to the hotel -sitting-room. Senator March remained a full -hour and enjoyed every minute of it. Alicia -Vernon's voice was the soul of music, and her -soft and gracious manners completed the -charm of her voice. Then, too, she was not so -ridiculously young. Before Senator March -left, he had arranged for a dinner at his own -house, and also for a week-end at his country -place. Just as he was leaving, Mrs. Chantrey -came fluttering in, and that meant still another -dinner for the English visitors, and Senator -March, being a court card, was at once grabbed -by Mrs. Chantrey for her dinner. The next -week was to be one of Grand Opera, and -Senator March, who loved music, determined to -take the best box at the theatre, chiefly for the -pleasure of having Alicia Vernon in it. Quite -naturally, in all these plans for pleasure, Sir -Percy Carlyon was included. Senator March -and himself had become almost chums from -the beginning of their acquaintance, and what -could be more suitable than that Sir Percy -should be one of the party when his old friends -were entertained? Then Senator March's -fondness for Lucy Armytage, and his -somewhat limited acquaintance among the younger -set, brought her into the circle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the dinner which Senator March gave in -his big, old-fashioned house Alicia saw, with -her own eyes, evidence of inherited as well as -acquired wealth. There was a ton, more or -less, of family silver on the sideboards and -cabinets, while the portraits of three generations -hung upon the walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Among the twenty-five guests were Lord -Baudesert, Mrs. Vereker, Lucy Armytage and -Sir Percy Carlyon. The second meeting with -Lucy Armytage made Alicia Vernon's -confirmation doubly sure; but there was a new -personality present which divided her interests -with Sir Percy Carlyon and Senator March: -this was Colegrove, the man whom Senator -March and Sir Percy Carlyon had passed in -the hotel lobby on the day of their second -meeting. He sat directly across the table from -Alicia Vernon, who was on Senator March's -left, Mrs. Vereker being on his right. The -mellow glow from the shaded candelabra fell -full upon Colegrove's head and shoulders. He -was instantly struck with the beauty of Alicia -Vernon's eyes, as most men were, but Alicia -was no less struck with his. They were clear, -so compelling--they were the eyes of the -commanding officer on the field of battle. His -well-shaped, iron-grey head, his clear-cut -features, spoke power in the lines of their -contour. Alicia Vernon found herself -involuntarily glancing across at her neighbour, and -whenever she looked at him she found his -glance fixed upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the ladies retired to the drawing-room -the conversation turned upon Colegrove, and -Alicia found out that he was one of the great -railway magnates of America, one of those -men of whom she had heard and read about, -who, beginning at the lowest rung of the -ladder, make their way up by sheer indomitable -force to the top, and then kick the ladder down -after them. He had a wife, whom no one had -ever seen, stowed away somewhere in the West, -but was never known to speak of her, much -less to present her. Fabulous tales were told -of his wealth and of the simplicity of his mode -of living. His winters were generally spent at -Washington, in a comfortable but not -expensive hotel, where he had a modest suite of -rooms. While the ladies were talking about -him, the gentlemen appeared from the dining-room. -Colegrove walked straight up to Alicia, -and, seating himself, plunged into conversation -with her. Alicia, with infinite tact, led him to -speak of himself, his affairs, his wishes, his -aspirations, and listened so intelligently that -she bewitched him even more than she had -Roger March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," she said presently, in her slow, -sweet voice, "that I am getting new ideas all -the time in this country about money. You -Americans are credited with thinking much -about it. I never saw people who value money -so little."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should we?" answered Colegrove, -smiling. "We have no hereditary nobility, no -entailed property to keep up. Every generation -here looks out for itself. Then American -ladies don't give their husbands the best chance -of saving money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can any woman save money?" asked -Alicia helplessly. "I am always in want of -money, have been all my life, and yet it doesn't -seem to me as if I have many costly things or -expensive habits."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, the want of money with a woman is -chronic," replied Colegrove easily. "The right -way to do would be to pay your bills and ask a -smile in return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her with such frank admiration -that it brought the colour to Alicia Vernon's -face; but she was not displeased with him; on -the contrary, she rather liked the sense of -power, of innate force, which was so plainly -his. How trifling to him would seem the -mountain of debt under which Alicia had -always laboured, and which she had only -managed to keep partially from her father's -knowledge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shouldn't mind a woman spending money -on toilettes, jewelry, carriages and such -things. That would be just like buying toys," -he said, still smiling. "I am a man of simple -tastes--you would be disgusted at the plainness -of my rooms at the hotel, but I can understand -that white birds should have downy nests."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove would have monopolised Mrs. Vernon, -but Senator March would by no means -have it so. He came up and began to talk about -the coming house-party, taking Alicia into the -library to show her pictures of the place. Then -her eyes fell upon pictures of Senator March's -family home, which was in a near-by Eastern -State, and the photographs he showed of it -proved that it was a fine old Colonial -house added to with taste and judgment until -it was a beautiful and spacious mansion. Also -he had a ranch far off in the Northwest, -and his near-by country place in Maryland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have as many homes as a great English noble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But they are not castles; they are only -houses; and a man alone, as I am, has no home. -This was my father's town house; he was in -the Senate before me, but you see that it is an -old barn compared with the splendid modern -houses in Washington. Then the home, in my -native State, is where I was born, but I have -lived there very little. After I left the -university I travelled for some years, and then -went into public life, and that has kept me -pretty close to Washington. My own home is -too far away to go to for the week-end, so I have -this little place a hundred miles away in the -mountains. I don't know exactly how I -happened to acquire the ranch. I went into a land -purchase with some friends of mine, and the -first thing I knew was that I had a ranch, and -I don't yet quite understand how I came by it. -I didn't know what to do with it, but I went out -there, and found it a gloriously lonely place, -with an adobe house and a courtyard, stuck -up on the side of the mountain. The people -out there told me to stock the place--I have -the title to a good part of the big valley--I got -a manager, and, strange to say, I haven't been -swindled. Every year or two I try to go out -there for six weeks. It's a superb climate and -I live on horseback, as I did when I was a boy. -I should like so much to show you the ranch -which I found in my pocket one day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia smiled and shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is so much to see, and one can't -stay in America for ever: it is so expensive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March looked at her with secret pity. -He thought what a nasty freak of Fate it was -that this exquisite creature should want what -he would so easily have given her, but could not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon, with a woman's subtlety, -noticed and liked this attitude of the -American toward women--the eternal readiness to -give. It was distinctly different from that of -the Englishman, who is strictly just to his -womankind, but is not expected to be generous, -and the normal woman hates justice as much -as she loves generosity. Alicia, with a sigh, -recalled the storms concerning money in which -her married life with Guy Vernon had been -passed, and the laborious subterfuges which -she was forced to employ to keep her father -from knowing the exact state of her finances. -And here were two Americans, strangers to -her, and with oceans of money, who were as -ready to give it to a wife as they would give -sugar-plums to children!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove determined to see more of his -charming </span><em class="italics">vis-à-vis</em><span>, and went up boldly to -General Talbott and asked permission to call on -him. General Talbott, the kindliest of men -under his English reserve, cordially invited him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a remarkably pleasant dinner to -everybody, with one exception--Sir Percy Carlyon. -His pride, his self-respect, his self-love, -suffered cruelly every moment that Lucy -Armytage was in the company of Alicia Vernon. He -had taken Lucy in to dinner, and he could not -but see the advance she had made, even in the -short time, in tact and self-possession. Not a -self-conscious word or look escaped her as she -sat talking charming nothings to the man -whose lips had been upon hers only the night -before, and no one would have dreamed that -Sir Percy Carlyon was upon any different -footing with her than any other woman at the -dinner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next week was the week of Grand Opera. -Senator March took a box for the whole week, -and three nights during that week Alicia -Vernon and her father were his guests. As -Mrs. Vernon sat in the shadow of the box, -listening to the enchanting voice of one of the -greatest tenors in the world, it dawned upon -her mind how privileged was the position of -an American woman where men were concerned. -The social customs, which permitted -men to lie almost at the feet of a woman, were -entirely new to her, and when this was done -with the tact and high breeding of Senator -March, he appealed to the craving for luxury -in her which had been her undoing. He had -asked her to name which operas in the week's -repertoire she would like to hear, and when she -had made her selection he called in his carriage -for her and her father, and she found a -beautiful bouquet waiting for her in the opera box -and a supper after the performance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whither Senator March was drifting was -plain to everybody except himself. He had -grown accustomed to consider himself as a -bachelor for life. He did not, himself, know -the cause of his bachelorhood. Few women -pleased him thoroughly, and he had put off -from year to year the search for the other half -of his being, and suddenly he found himself -a middle-aged man. He disliked the idea of -an inequality in age and felt no desire to make -any of the sparkling young girls he knew -Mrs. Roger March, and the women who were -suitable in age did not often retain the power to -please his æsthetic sense. He had no fancy -for widows and did not care to be the object -of a woman's second love. When he heard -Alicia Vernon's history, however, it occurred -to him that a woman's second husband might -possibly be her first love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These things all came to him before the soft -spring days which Alicia Vernon, her father -and Sir Percy Carlyon spent at his country -place. Senator March had particularly desired -Lucy Armytage's company. He had been fond -of her from childhood, and she was one of the -few young girls who did not worry him with -the insistencies of youth, but Lucy, after -having accepted the first suggestion of the visit -with enthusiasm, was not now able to come. -Senator March explained why at dinner the -first evening of his house-party, which was as -large as his modest house could accommodate, -and numbered two ladies besides Alicia Vernon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I regret very much that my young friend, -Miss Armytage, is not one of us, but she found -herself obliged to go out to Kentucky for a -fortnight's visit to some relatives," he said. "I -believe that in Kentucky people are in bondage -to their relations. However, I shall hope to -have Miss Armytage at our next reunion, for -we must come here often. Congress promises -to sit into the summer and we must take refuge -in the country as often as we can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon, sitting on Senator March's -right hand, with Sir Percy Carlyon on her -left, turned towards him with a look which held -a meaning. It was Sir Percy who would not -let Lucy stay under the same roof with her, -Alicia Vernon. No repulse he had ever given -her stung like this. For the first time she felt -an impulse of fury towards him and a desire to -make him suffer. She lay awake in her bed that -night, hot and cold with rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next day was Sunday, and in the -afternoon the usual Sunday walk along the -mountains was proposed. Senator March was too -accomplished a host to devote himself to any -lady of the party, and as there were not enough -to pair off all the gentlemen, he attached -himself to General Talbott for the afternoon. A -little clever management on Alicia's part, in -the presence of her father, secured Sir Percy -Carlyon as her escort. Sir Percy made no -effort to escape. He knew that strange liking -which women have for opening the grave of a -dead passion and dragging the bones of it into -life, weeping and wringing their hands over it -and crying aloud to it, commanding it to live -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked together in the April afternoon -through the budding woods, looking down upon -the wide, peaceful valley before them, with the -blue peaks cutting the edge of the clear horizon. -It was the same walk which Sir Percy had -taken Lucy Armytage two months before on -the Sunday afternoon, and the recollection of -it, and the strangeness of Alicia Vernon being -his companion now, almost bewildered him. -When they came to a sunny spot on the hillside, -where a grey, flat rock afforded a resting-place -under the pine-trees, Alicia would have -stopped, but Sir Percy said to her almost roughly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not here; we must go on farther."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?" asked Alicia. "Was it because -you and Lucy Armytage once rested here and -therefore I am not worthy to stop for a moment -in this place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a chance shot, but it went home. Sir -Percy turned his back, and Alicia, with a -feeling of triumph, seated herself upon the flat -stone where Lucy had first heard the words of -love from Sir Percy Carlyon. When he turned -round she saw in his face, dark and displeased, -that she had scored against him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I could forget you," she said, "and -not care whether I can hurt you or not, but I -can't. You see, there are some parts of a -woman's life which she can live only once, and -the memory is always tormenting her. This is -the first walk we have taken together since--since -that time in India. It was a hilly country -somewhat like this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy made no answer; the rage in his -heart against Alicia Vernon had received an -accession in the last fortnight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," she continued in a voice of -suppressed anger, "you forbade Miss Armytage -to come here. You didn't wish her to be -under the same roof with me. One would -think that I were the only sinner in the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I sinned as much and more than you," -replied Sir Percy, "but I have repented."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is to say, you grew weary of your -passion for me. I think that is what men call -penitence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy looked at her, amazed for the -thousandth time. Outwardly she could observe -every canon of dignity and refinement, but -secretly, like every woman who had ever gone -wrong, as far as Sir Percy Carlyon's -experience went, she had lost all sense of justice, of -proportion, of reticence, of discipline, and even -of sound sense. He had heard stories of -women who trod the downward path and then -retrieved themselves, but he had never met one. -These women and Alicia Vernon, with her -heritage of the best birth and breeding, "were -sisters under their skins." The thing which -really surprised him was that Alicia -maintained so outwardly and unbrokenly the high -standard of her birth and breeding, and was -still capable of disinterested affection--her love -for her father.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Sir Percy would not reply, Mrs. Vernon -said no more for a while. She leaned against -the mass of rock at her back and looked around -at the still woods, in which only a few trilling -bird notes broke the golden silence, across the -sunlit valley and then at Sir Percy Carlyon. -What strange fate had brought them from one -end of the world to the other that they might -meet alone in such a place? She was so still -that Sir Percy presently looked around to see -if she were there. She was sitting quite -motionless, looking with deep, inscrutible eyes -straight before her. She turned her gaze to -him and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know no more than you do why I could -speak to you in this way, or why I could ever -think of you again. I am like a child who has -got hold of some pretty, shiny thing, which -turns out to be a jewel, and the child -weeps and struggles when the jewel is taken away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy could not but be sorry for her; he -often had moments and hours of silent rage -with her, but it would not hold against her in -the presence of her despair. Presently she -arose and came toward him, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look around you," she said; "this spot, I -know, I feel, is associated with the image of -that girl. Now you will be unable to think of -it without thinking of me also. I will not have -it that I only shall think of you; I mean that -you shall not be able to escape the thought of -me. Come, it is late; let us be going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They turned and walked back towards the -house. Farther along the mountain path they -met Senator March and General Talbott; quite -naturally the party divided, and Sir Percy -joined General Talbott, while Senator March -ranged himself with Mrs. Vernon. They fell -behind, as Senator March was pointing out the -features and general historic points of the -landscape, while Sir Percy and General Talbott -went ahead. When they were quite far in -advance and walking down the country lane -bordered with the mountain ash, now with little -brown buds upon the bare white branches, and -the whole air scented with the coming spring, -General Talbott said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think this journey, my dear fellow, to be -one of the pleasantest, and even one of the most -fortunate, that I ever made. It has been a long -time since I have seen my poor child so like -her earlier self. She is interested and amused. -The social customs over here permit a woman -to enjoy a great many pleasures and to receive -a great many attentions from men without -exciting remark. My daughter is, as you know, -extremely careful in her conduct, often -prudish. Not that I would wish her otherwise, but -still I am glad when she finds herself in an -environment that permits her a little innocent -enjoyment. Those parties at the opera were -extremely pleasant, but no such attention could -be offered or accepted in Europe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are quite right; socially American -customs are extremely pleasant. They embody -liberty without license."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I agree with you from what I have seen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As General Talbott spoke, Sir Percy observed -in him a cheerfulness and note of pleasure in -his voice which always followed when Alicia -seemed to be at ease and a little happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy Carlyon left early on the Monday -morning and returned to Washington in advance -of the rest of the party. It was still some -days before Lucy Armytage arrived from -Kentucky. At their first meeting afterwards -Lucy asked no questions whatever about -Senator March's house-party, and the delicate -reticence which she showed on this point was -not unnoticed by Sir Percy, who volunteered -to tell her all of which he could speak. He -did not avoid Alicia Vernon's name, but -whenever he spoke of her Lucy saw that peculiar -expression of his eye which indicated dislike. -She asked, however, a great many questions -about Senator March and then said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder if Mrs. Vernon will marry him -when he asks her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy was thunderstruck; no such idea -had entered his thoroughly masculine mind, -and after a moment he said so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How stupid!" remarked Lucy, eyeing him -with profound contempt. "It was perfectly -obvious the first night they met. Everybody -in town is talking about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are?" replied Sir Percy after a moment, -and then quickly turned the conversation -into another channel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile his mind was in a tumult. Alicia -Vernon married to Senator March, or to any -man of honour, for that matter, and Senator -March, chivalrous, high-minded, taking everything -for granted in the case of the woman he -loved! It was staggering to Sir Percy Carlyon; -the whole thing was anomalous, inexplicable. -But for him Senator March and Alicia Vernon -would never have met. His mind went back to -those early days in India: how the web then -formed not only entangled him, but caught -others, innocent and helpless, in its meshes. -He would be forced to stand silently by and see -a man who loved his honour better than his life -take to his heart a woman unworthy of him. -This thought possessed Sir Percy, and brought -with it the fiercest stings of remorse. He went -about that day with a strange sense of unreality -concerning everything. Alicia Vernon might -indeed have married even an honourable man, -but to see a man as proud and sensitive as -Senator March lay his honest, tender heart at -the feet of Alicia Vernon was an incredible -thing to Sir Percy Carlyon. That evening at -the club the first person he saw in the -smoking-room was General Talbott.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very glad to have come across you this -evening," said General Talbott. "I wish to -speak with you confidentially. How are -marriages arranged over here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With the least possible trouble," answered -Sir Percy with a glimmer of a smile, "and -totally unlike marriages anywhere else. They -are supposed to be on a basis of pure sentiment, -and the question of money is handled in the -most gingerly manner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Talbott smiled and then continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To be quite confidential with you, my dear -fellow, I have seen lately that Senator March -takes an uncommon interest in my daughter. -Whether Alicia would marry him or not I -can't say. This afternoon Senator March -called to see me, to tell me, what I had suspected -for some little time past, that he is deeply -attached to my daughter. I needn't tell you -that the idea was quite acceptable to me. I am -an old man, and at my death my child would -be unprotected in the world; she is one of those -delicate creatures unfitted to stand alone, and -what I most desired for her was the protection -of a good man's arm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy listened with quiet attention, but all -the while a sense of unreality deepened upon -him; nevertheless he said quite coolly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As far as the man himself goes, it would be -hard to find Senator March's superior, and, -as you probably know, he has a great fortune, -honestly come by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not in love with money myself," said -General Talbott, and then stopped and looked -meditatively at Sir Percy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The idea had occurred to him many times -since Alicia's widowhood that the friendship, -which was all that General Talbott knew had -existed between Alicia and Sir Percy, might -bring them into a closer relationship. It would -have been an ideal marriage for Alicia, her -father thought, except that Sir Percy Carlyon -was a poor man and Alicia, as her father -always said deprecatingly, had little idea of the -value of money. He would rather, he thought, -that Alicia should marry in her own country, -but, recalling Sir Percy's modest income and -expectations, General Talbott dismissed the -half-formed wish from his mind. No; Alicia -was not the wife for a poor man in public life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To be still more confidential with you, my -dear Carlyon," he said, laying his hand on Sir -Percy's knee, "nothing could have been more -generous in every way than March's proposition -to me. The law makes a liberal provision -in America for the wife, I find, but Senator -March, knowing our customs, volunteered to -make settlements, splendid in their generosity, -upon my daughter. She will have an independent -income of her own, every year, far -exceeding the entire income of Guy Vernon's -estates, and for a woman of my daughter's -luxurious tastes that is a great consideration. -She is so high-minded, however, that I scarcely -think she took this in, although after Senator -March left I talked with her quite frankly on -the subject. Of course, she isn't a young girl -any longer, and has realised painfully all her -life the restrictions of a modest income."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But she will marry Senator March?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think so; she has asked a little time for -consideration, but you know what that means -with ladies. March had the good feeling to -say to me that, if she would consent to marry -him, he would promise in advance that she -should visit England once a year to see me, and -he hopes that I will agree to spend a part of -each year with them--most considerate of a -father's feelings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As General Talbott talked, Sir Percy saw in -him a deep feeling of gratification and even of -relief. The only fault her father could find -with Alicia was her reckless expenditure, but -if she married Senator March she would be -far beyond all need of doing without anything--so -General Talbott in his simplicity thought. -Sir Percy's manner struck General Talbott as -being a little peculiar, but he thought he could -account for it: Sir Percy had his own private -disappointment to bear; such was General -Talbott's explanation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">VIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In Washington there is always an outbreak -of gaiety after Easter to atone for a slight -suppression during Holy Week. It is then that the -results of the season are tabulated and the -coming June weddings announced. Two such -announcements were made which surprised -society: that of Sir Percy Carlyon, First -Secretary of the British Embassy, to Miss Lucy -Armytage, whose name most of the smart set -heard for the first time; and that of Senator -March to Mrs. Vernon, the charming Englishwoman, -who had been received with open arms -by the smartest of the smart. The first was -paralysing in the effect it produced. The -British Embassy, and all that belongs to it, is -reckoned the peculiar property of the smart set, -and for any one attached to that Embassy to -go outside of the smart set for a bride seemed -almost a violation of international law, to say -nothing of diplomatic usage. Every particular -about Miss Armytage, as the facts came to -light, was more appalling; she was from a -provincial Kentucky town, of which nobody, -outside of Kentucky, had ever heard; she was the -niece of a representative in Congress who lived -in a down-town hotel; she had never been to -Europe, and Newport and Lennox were -unknown ground to her. Almost the only -fashionable house at which she had ever been -seen was that of the Chantreys, and society -had from the beginning bestowed Eleanor -Chantrey's hand upon Sir Percy Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Deep in Eleanor's heart was a disappointed -dream of ambition. She had herself too well -in hand to fall in love with Sir Percy Carlyon, -or any other man, until her love had been -asked, but his eligibility had been suggested to -her a great many times, chiefly by Mrs. Chantrey, -who had visions of possessing the British -Embassy, body and bones: herself the -Ambassadress, her daughter the wife of the First -Secretary. Some hint of this Mrs. Chantrey -let drop to Eleanor when they sat together at -tea in Eleanor's yellow boudoir on the day that -Sir Percy Carlyon's engagement was announced. -There are ways by which a daughter, -as perfectly well-bred as Eleanor Chantrey, -can silence a garrulous mother, and this is what -Eleanor did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must go this afternoon," she said -calmly, "and call on Miss Armytage. I think -her a charming girl, quite clever enough to fill -any position whatever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Chantrey, being civilly bullied by her -daughter, the two drove down later to the -Armytages' hotel and, instead of merely -leaving cards, waited to know whether they could -see Mrs. and Miss Armytage. They were -ushered up into the modest sitting-room, which -had been the scene of some halcyon hours to -Lucy and Sir Percy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Eleanor Chantrey, the most sincere of women, -honestly admired Lucy Armytage, and the -quiet dignity and grace with which Lucy -received her congratulations confirmed Eleanor -in her previous opinion, that Lucy Armytage -would be equal to any position. She thanked -Eleanor warmly for her good wishes and kind -interest, and the two girls were drawn closer -together by the innate nobility which both of -them possessed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Sir Percy was having what might -be called "a roaring time" at the Embassy with -Lord Baudesert, his Aunt Susan and Jane, -Sarah and Isabella. Sometimes even sheep -will make a feint of butting, and, following -Lord Baudesert's tigerish assault, the Verekers -butted and prodded as viciously as they knew -how. Sir Percy had chosen tea-time as the -hour to break the news to his family. He first -had a private interview with Lord Baudesert -in his library. The Ambassador happened to -have a real and not a diplomatic touch of gout, -and was correspondingly savage. When Sir -Percy coolly, and without any preamble, -announced that he was engaged to Miss Armytage, -and that the wedding would take place at -Bardstown, Kentucky, in the middle of June, -Lord Baudesert almost jumped from his chair -with wrath and surprise, and then fell back -again overwhelmed with disgust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You swore to me," he bellowed, "that you -would never marry an American."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy smiled and stroked his moustache.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he said, "I am of that opinion still. -This is the only American I would ever marry -under any possible circumstances and I don't -propose to do it but once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know the disadvantages of it," cried -Lord Baudesert, thumping the table; "her -money will be tied up as tight as wax; you will -have a tail of relations following you all over -Europe, and the whole thing is the most -damnable mess I have ever heard of in my life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Call it anything you please," replied Sir -Percy, still smiling, "only be careful how you -mention Miss Armytage. As for her money -being tied up, she has very little, so it really -doesn't matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was like throwing a bushel of dynamite -into a burning house. Lord Baudesert forgot -his gout and, getting up from his chair, strode -up and down the room, dragging his gouty leg -after him, and muttering savagely to himself, -with an occasional blast against American -marriages. Presently Sir Percy rose and went -into the drawing-room, followed by Lord -Baudesert. There sat Mrs. Vereker and the three -girls, and while Mrs. Vereker was handing Sir -Percy his tea, he remarked casually to her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Susan, I hope very much that you and -the girls will, as soon as you conveniently can, -call upon Miss Armytage, who has done me the -honour of promising to become my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the big chandelier in the middle of the room -had tumbled on the tea-table, and had been -followed by a patch of the blue sky, Mrs. Vereker -could not have been more astounded; her jaw -dropped, and the three girls, horror-stricken, -gazed at Sir Percy, who went on drinking his -tea with the most exasperating calmness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Engaged to Miss Armytage," murmured -Mrs. Vereker despairingly, when she found her -voice. "A most incredible thing! I think you -must be joking, and that you are really -engaged to Miss Chantrey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I assure you that I am not," replied Sir -Percy. "Give me another cup of tea, please, -Isabella."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mamma," said Isabella, without paying the -slightest attention to Sir Percy's request, "he -is simply teasing us. He certainly is engaged -to Miss Chantrey. I have heard it suggested a -dozen times in the last month."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I am not," said Sir Percy, helping -himself to tea, which no one else was sufficiently -composed to give him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker shook her head hopelessly. "I -am sure it is Miss Chantrey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This view of the matter acted upon Lord -Baudesert's smouldering rage like a stone in -front of a rushing railway train, which is at -once derailed and helpless. Lord Baudesert -exploded into a short laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No such luck," he said; "Miss Chantrey has -a fortune; Miss Armytage has not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy, having finished his tea, put down -his cup and rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be very much obliged to you, Aunt -Susan, if you will do as I ask. Lord Baudesert, -of course, will call to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Baudesert growled something between -his clenched teeth, which nobody could make -out, and Sarah cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Cousin Percy, how many times have -I heard you say that you would never marry -an American;" and Jane chimed in, "No one -would have minded in the least if it had been -Eleanor Chantrey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps," remarked Sir Percy to Jane, -meanwhile looking Lord Baudesert full in the -eye, "you may yet have the pleasure of being -allied with the Chantreys. Common report has -it that Lord Baudesert and Mrs. Chantrey are -to be married shortly. Good-afternoon." And -leaving this bomb behind him, he escaped into -the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only to one other did he feel the necessity -of imparting the news himself. This was to -General Talbott, and through him to Alicia -Vernon. He walked to their hotel and was -shown to their sitting-room to await their -return from a drive. He went to the window -and looked down on the street embowered with -trees, and with sidewalks full of gaily dressed -people, and smart carriages dashing to and fro -in the sunny spring afternoon. He had heard -that day, as had everybody else, the announcement -of Alicia Vernon's engagement, and it -brought him no surprise, but only that strange -feeling as if such a thing could not be: that -Alicia Vernon should become the wife of an -honourable man. While he was watching, the -carriage with General Talbott and Alicia drove -up, and the General, with his own portly grace, -assisted his daughter to alight. In a moment -or two they entered the room together, and -General Talbott grasped Sir Percy's hand and -congratulated him from the bottom of an -honest and generous heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We, too, have news for you," he said, smiling; -"I will leave it to Alicia to tell you, as it -is her affair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia fixed her violet eyes on Sir Percy -Carlyon, and in them was the light of triumph. -"I think, papa," she said, in the sweet, -affectionate voice which she always addressed her -father, "if you will leave me with Sir Percy for -ten minutes it would be kind. I want to tell so -old a friend all about it. So here is your -newspaper, and go into your own room for ten -minutes and then we shall be delighted to see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took the afternoon newspaper off the -table and, thrusting it into General Talbott's -hand with an air of tender familiarity, led -him to the door and closed it after him, and -then she came back to where Sir Percy stood -near the window and began to pull off her long -gloves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you told Miss Armytage about that -summer at the hill station?" she asked calmly, -with a sidelong glance. Sir Percy remained -silent, but it won for him no mercy. "I see that -you haven't," she said. "Yet you think it right -to marry that innocent girl without telling her -all? Very well, I shall marry Senator March, -but neither shall I tell him all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It occurred to Sir Percy to ask her if she -meant, like himself, to be so true, so devoted -in her marriage that she might have some little -ground upon which to ask forgiveness. But -although he by no means adopted the specious -view that the law has no variation for men and -women, yet he felt that no one who had -violated the law in any part could rebuke his -fellow-sinner, and, therefore, remained -obstinately silent. Mrs. Vernon had encountered -this mood before, but it made the situation -rather easier for her, as Sir Percy never -contradicted anything she said. After a moment -or two she spoke again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a curious thing that people like Senator -March, who have never been tempted, put all -poor sinners in the wrong. I feel it every -moment that I am with him. I never had this -feeling with Guy Vernon, because from the -day I married him his wickedness and his -weakness were plain to me. But there is a -compelling honesty about a man like Senator March -from which one can't get away; it is like my -father's. Senator March thinks I am marrying -him for love; you think I am marrying him -for money. This last is true, and I can't deny -it, but I also have a disinterested motive--it -will make my father happy and put him at ease -concerning me. I have a good many debts of -which my father knows nothing, and which he -would pay, if he knew of them, with his last -shilling. I couldn't keep them from him much -longer and I dreaded to tell him. Now he is -spared all that. I had the satisfaction of -dealing honestly with Senator March when I told -him that I must still give a part of my life to -my father. He kissed my hand and told me -he loved me the better because I loved my -father so well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, it was the only redeeming love which -Alicia Vernon had ever known, and it had in it -a strange element of nobility and perfidy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope sincerely you may be happy," was all -that Sir Percy Carlyon said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know whether I wish you to be happy -or not," Alicia replied in the same low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At least the past is now a closed book between us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the past ever a closed book? Certainly -not to a woman. There are some things which -are bloodstains upon the page of life and sink -through and through its pages until at the very -last there is still a red stain. Anyway, I don't -hate Senator March and I don't wish to make -him unhappy. That is as much as I can feel -for any man now, but I could chop him to pieces -for my father's sake or for--" The sentence -remained unfinished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia's wild, unreasoning passion, mingled -with revenge, regret and chagrin, died hard. -There had never been a moment in which she -would not have considered a marriage with Sir -Percy Carlyon as imprudent and even disastrous. -But there had never been a moment, not -even the present, when she would not have -rushed into this joyous madness. She turned -and walked up and down the room once or -twice, saddened, as all sentient beings are, -when looking down an abyss in which they long -to throw themselves, struggling fiercely against -the restraining hand. Sir Percy, quite immovable, -stood in the same place until Alicia turned -towards him and spoke in her usual, quiet tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I have this to say to you: if, after you -are married, you assume that your wife is too -good to breathe the same air with me, you may -expect me to resent it. We may be in -Washington together, remember, for some time, and -if I am unjustly treated there will be a -catastrophe, and this you may count upon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then General Talbott's bedroom door -opened and he walked in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The ten minutes are up," he said; "now sit -down, Carlyon, and let us talk about coming -events. Alicia and I will call to see Miss -Armytage to-morrow, taking the privilege of old -friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Sir Percy, and could not -force himself to say more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How strangely things fall out," continued -the General pleasantly. "I had no thought -when I came to Washington that I should leave -Alicia behind me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't leave me for long, papa," replied -Alicia, "because I know in two or three months' -time I shall ask Senator March to take me to -England and then we will bring you back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes!" replied General Talbott, smiling, -"there will be an eternal fetching and carrying, -and some day I shall be a rickety old fellow; -then you and March will probably throw me over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia only answered him with a look which -was eloquent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>General Talbott did not think Sir Percy's -silence strange; Englishmen are not likely to be -talkative under such circumstances; so General -Talbott, full of sympathy and kindliness, kept -on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After having seen Miss Armytage, my dear -fellow, one can safely congratulate you. The -newspapers say the wedding comes off in the -middle of June."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The newspapers are right for once," -answered Sir Percy. "The wedding is to take -place in Kentucky, so I am afraid I sha'n't have -the pleasure of Mrs. Vernon's presence and -yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; we shall have our own affairs to attend -to at that time. We are to be married -ourselves, you know," answered General Talbott, -laughing, and then Sir Percy said good-bye -and went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he was gone General Talbott said to -his daughter:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Armytage is indeed a charming girl, -but it is a pity she has not fortune and prestige -such as Miss Chantrey has, and fortune and -prestige are what Carlyon needs in a wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon made no reply and General -Talbott, taking up a batch of newly arrived -English newspapers, retired to his own room to -read them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon, lying back in the depths of a -deep arm-chair, sat quite still, looking straight -before her. From the street below came the -sound of voices, of traffic; outside her window -black and white sparrows were wheeling and -chattering, and a linden tree in full leaf close -by the broad window waved softly in the -breeze, making delicate green shadows pass -over the room and Alicia's pale face. The -phase of existence on which she had entered -was as strange to her as if it were that of -another planet. Senator March's offer of -marriage had not taken her by surprise; she had -seen it coming for weeks and had made up her -mind from the first to accept it. Nevertheless, -when it came she was overwhelmed with the -strangeness of her new position. Of all of -those who had ever made love to her, he was -the first man who believed her to be the soul -of truth and purity. It produced in her a faint -stirring of a wish to be a little like what Roger -March thought her to be. If only she could -put Sir Percy Carlyon out of her mind! But -his presence, when he came to tell her of his -engagement to another woman, had agitated -her more than Senator March had been able -to do, even in the moment of asking her love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the door opened, and a boy ushered -in the person farthest from Alicia Vernon's -mind at that moment--Nicholas Colegrove. -His personality was so strong that he could not -come and go anywhere unnoticed. The sight -of his handsome, iron-grey head, the grasp of -his firm hand, brought Alicia Vernon to her -feet and dispelled instantly the strange, -benumbing dream into which she had fallen. -Colegrove was saying in his rich voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I took the liberty of a friend, albeit a new -one, in coming to offer you my felicitations on -what I heard this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia Vernon, now quite herself, smiled and -thanked him prettily and asked him to be -seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marriage is a very different thing between -men and women and between boys and girls," -he said in a tone of good-humoured cynicism. -"When a full-grown man and woman marry, -I have often noticed they assume a defensive -attitude, one to the other; it is best in the -long run. Of course, they don't admit -it--everything in this blessed country is on the -basis of the slightest sentiment--but it is a fact -just the same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia smiled and answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think that American men have ever -been on the defensive with women."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite true in a way," answered Colegrove. -"My interest in the subject is purely academic. -I was married at nineteen to a pink-cheeked -girl three years older than myself. We found -out our mistake at the end of a few years. I -am not a brute and I am willing to give her -everything she wants, but she doesn't know -what she wants. Sometimes she thinks it's a -divorce, but as soon as I agree to it she finds -out that she doesn't want it at all. Of course," -continued Colegrove, rising and walking about -the room, "the time may come when I shall -meet a woman who will mean a good deal to -me. So far, however, not one of them has been -able to make any impression on me as deep -as the action of the Board of Directors of the -A.F.& O. Railroad. If you don't mind my -saying it, however, now that it is too late, I was -very much impressed by you. Your type, you -know, is very unusual."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes; Alicia Vernon knew that her type was -very unusual and never in her life had her -pride and self-love been more flattered than by -Colegrove's frank and debonair admission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However," he said, coming and standing -before her, "it won't keep me from being friends -with Senator March; he is a very strong man -in every way, and I hope you will let me be a -friend of yours, too. Recollect, if you ever get -into a financial tangle, I can give you some -good advice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been in a financial tangle all my life," -murmured Alicia, "but now that is past."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if you have been in it all your life, my -dear lady; those things are matters of temperament -and bear a very indirect relation to the -rise and fall of one's income. That's one thing -in which I have been always very indulgent -towards women. Very few of them have any -real idea of the value of money, and the -charming and beautiful among them should have it -just as they should have plenty of air and -sunlight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This sentiment was peculiarly acceptable to -Alicia Vernon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove remained twenty minutes longer, -and when he left Alicia reflected that in him -was embodied that American type of which she -had heard so much--men who can deny nothing -to women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next day Lord Baudesert, cursing and -swearing, and Mrs. Vereker, sighing and -lamenting, while Jane, Sarah and Isabella -sighed and lamented at home, went to call -upon Lucy Armytage as the </span><em class="italics">fiancée</em><span> of Sir -Percy Carlyon. Luckily Lucy was not at home, -for which mercy Mrs. Vereker was humbly -thankful. The visit, however, had to be -returned, and within the week Mrs. Armytage -and Lucy drove in a hired carriage to the -British Embassy and were shown into the -drawing-room. Never was there a meeting -with greater elements of danger. Besides -Mrs. Vereker and the three girls, they had General -Talbott, Alicia Vernon and Senator March. It -was enough to disconcert a trained woman of -the world, but Lucy Armytage, with the -natural tact and self-control which was her -heritage, bore herself beautifully. She had -long since divined that the three Vereker girls -followed their mother as if she were a bell cow, -while Lord Baudesert was the supreme arbiter -of their destinies. Lucy took up the best -possible strategic position--a chair next to Lord -Baudesert. The Ambassador, in spite of his -tendency to harass his womenkind, was a -gentleman, and while cursing Lucy from the -bottom of his heart, treated her with courtly -attention. Something in the softness of her -manner and the fearlessness of her eyes struck -Lord Baudesert with a sneaking admiration. -Lucy Armytage had neither great beauty, -great talents, nor great fortune, but she was a -conqueror of hearts and her empire was over -men. No man had ever withstood her charm -when she deliberately chose to exercise it. On -this occasion she proceeded with infinite tact -to captivate Lord Baudesert. Sir Percy, -secretly diverted in spite of himself, watched -Lucy serenely walking into the good graces of -the Ambassador, and that by a path which -few had the courage to tread--the path of -polite disagreement with him. Mrs. Vereker -turned pale when she heard Lucy say, smilingly, -to Lord Baudesert concerning a certain -public question then under discussion:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I speak with much ignorance and more prejudice, -but just the same I can't agree with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Lord Baudesert, instead of eating her -up in two mouthfuls on the spot, answered -amiably:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear young lady, you are no more ignorant -and prejudiced than nine men out of ten -who have discussed it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Lucy told him, with quiet drollery, of -her own views and opinions on the subject and -the various others which she had heard -expressed by the public men who discussed it, -and Lord Baudesert laughed with appreciation. -And then they found a book or two in common, -and Lord Baudesert made the amazing -discovery that a girl might browse about in a -library and get hold of interesting odds and -ends of knowledge, which she knew how to use -without pedantry or affectation. Lucy's -information about the Indian Mutiny was a mine of -gold to her. Lord Baudesert had been a cornet -in the days when there were still cornets, and -had been both at Delhi and Lucknow, and sewn -upon the breast of his court costume was the -medal of the Alighur, which he would not have -exchanged for the blue ribbon of the Garter. -Lucy was the first woman he had met in -America who even knew the date of the -Mutiny, and Lord Baudesert therefore soon -reckoned her above and beyond the rest of the -nation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The visit was to Lucy a little triumph of her -own, which was not lost upon any one present, -least of all Alicia Vernon. The manner -between these two women was perfect. Lucy had -not forgotten Sir Percy Carlyon's word of -warning. She knew not why he had no desire -for her to be intimate with Mrs. Vernon, but -his wishes were respected. Each was carefully -polite to the other, and the little shade of -reserve was too delicate to be noticed by any one -present except Sir Percy Carlyon; Senator -March did not notice it in the least, but came -up to Lucy as she was leaving, and said in a -low voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope that you and Mrs. Vernon will become -great friends. I owe Sir Percy a debt of -gratitude: it was through him, you know, I met -Mrs. Vernon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," replied Lucy. "Sir Percy is -always laying people under obligations to him," -and she turned away smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, after a short visit, Mrs. Armytage -rose to go, Lord Baudesert tried to pin Lucy -down. Lucy stayed a little longer, but not -even Lord Baudesert's blandishments made -her commit the blunder of staying too long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Baudesert's first remark on finding -himself alone in the bosom of his family was to -Mrs. Vereker:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have her to dinner as soon as you can. -Delightful girl, she is. After all, perhaps Percy -didn't make any blunder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker shook her heard like a Chinese -mandarin, and sighed; she had been shaking -her head and sighing ever since the -engagement was announced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dinner two weeks later was another and -greater triumph for Lucy Armytage. Sir -Percy had expected her to be frightened out -of her wits at the thought of sitting next Lord -Baudesert during the whole of the dinner, and -he could not quite bring himself to believe that -Lucy's calm courage was not foolhardiness. -But where men were concerned, Lucy Armytage -knew what to say and do as well as any -woman that ever lived. As she sat next to -Lord Baudesert at the long and glittering -dinner-table, she talked with him so prettily, -controlling her natural effervescence, but -occasionally sparkling into brilliance, that Lord -Baudesert found himself captivated as he had -never been before in his life. Senator March -and Alicia Vernon were present also; it seemed -to Sir Percy as if the Fates were still at their -terrible work between Alicia Vernon and him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker was sadly polite to Lucy, -wondering all the time what Lord Baudesert -saw in her to delight him so obviously. When -the last guest had departed, Lord Baudesert, -standing in front of the fire in the hereditary -attitude of the Englishman, with his feet wide -apart and his hands behind his back, remarked -coolly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Susan, when you go home this -summer, you may as well arrange to remain -during the winter. I intend to take the future -Lady Carlyon in hand and show her a few -things, and I can't do it as well with you here. -I shall ask her to preside here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Vereker gasped. The intimation was -not wholly displeasing to her after three years -of trial with Lord Baudesert, but the idea of -an American woman doing the honours of -Lord Baudesert's Embassy was enough to -stagger anybody, certainly a person so easily -staggered as Mrs. Vereker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On a June morning in a small church in -Bardstown, Kentucky, Lucy Armytage became -Lady Carlyon. It was the simplest little -wedding imaginable, without any token that -Lucy was making a splendid marriage. She -was a charming and unaffected bride, and -looked all happiness. Sir Percy, however, -after the manner of an Englishman who has -attained his heart's desire, was silent, and -looked somewhat bored.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the same day, at a fashionable church in -Washington, Alicia Vernon became Alicia -March. The first news she heard of Sir Percy -Carlyon was that he was promoted, and -appointed Minister at a small Continental court. -Thus Lady Carlyon and Mrs. March had -separate orbits many thousand miles apart.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">IX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Four years and a half afterwards, on a mild, -sunny December afternoon, Senator March, -whilst walking through the still fashionable, -fine old street in which his house was, saw a -beautiful victoria, superbly horsed, drawn up -to the sidewalk. In it sat a lady and -gentleman, whom he instantly recognised as Sir -Percy Carlyon, recently appointed Ambassador -to Washington, and Lady Carlyon. They -had stopped for a moment to speak to two -beautiful little boys, three and two years of -age, in the care of a stately nursemaid and -her assistant. Senator March's eyes rested -with longing upon the charming little children. -He was passionately fond of children, and they -were the only gift of Heaven which seemed -denied to him. When the nurse moved away -with her charges Senator March stepped up -and grasped Sir Percy's hand, and then Lady -Carlyon laid her little white-gloved hand in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't know you had arrived," said Senator -March. "I watched the newspapers, and so -has Mrs. March, thinking that we would not -let twenty-four hours go by without seeing you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We reached town only last night," said Sir -Percy; "and we were speaking of you five -minutes ago when we drove past your house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Sir Percy was speaking, Senator -March, man-like, kept his eyes fixed upon Lady -Carlyon. One glance showed to him that she -had found herself; she was far prettier than -she had ever been before, and there was a new -meaning and intelligence in her black eyes -and added charm in her agreeable and -well-cultivated voice. She seemed to have -grown taller, and she had a sweet, unaffected -dignity of wifehood and motherhood. The -dainty, high-bred girl had become a woman, -had developed into an Ambassadress worthy of -the name. It was she who said to Senator March:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope Mrs. March is well, and of course she -is happy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She appears to be both," replied Senator -March, smiling; "perhaps it is only her -British pluck which enables her to stand the -American husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall hope to see her very soon," said Lady -Carlyon, and then Sir Percy inquired about -General Talbott.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are expecting him in the spring. As -you may imagine, Mrs. March does not let any -long interval pass between her visits to -General Talbott in England and his visits to us. -By the way, what an odd fatality has always -interfered with our seeing you and Lady -Carlyon when we have been in Europe. We -seemed to be playing a game of hide-and-seek, -but now there will be no escaping each other, -and we must see as much as we can of you and -Lady Carlyon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," answered Sir Percy, with the -utmost cordiality, but it was Lady Carlyon who -added: "Yes, pray remember us to Mrs. March, -and we shall look forward to seeing General -Talbott as soon as he arrives. We shall expect -to see you very shortly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then after a few moments more of conversation -the carriage drove away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A victoria, with a coachman and footman in -hearing, is no place for a private conversation, -and nothing was said about Senator March and -his wife until Sir Percy and Lady Carlyon had -reached home and were alone in Sir Percy's -library.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dearest," said Lady Carlyon, laying her -little hand upon his sleeve, "there is but one -attitude to take: we must be friendly with her. -Remember Senator March's position and how -you stand with General Talbott."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it all," answered Sir Percy doggedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were standing together, and Sir Percy -took his wife's hand and kissed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are the better diplomatist of the two," -he said; "I could not bring myself to mention -Alicia March's name. If it hadn't been for -your readiness Senator March must have -suspected something. It must be hard for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very! But I have been preparing myself -for this complication ever since you told me -that story. After all, it is quite natural that -Mrs. March should make a fight for her -position in the world. It isn't every woman who -has it in her to be a Louise la Vallière."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is certainly not in Alicia March; however, -there is nothing so cowardly as for a man to -complain of a woman. I should be glad to take -all the pain of my own wrongdoing, but you, -poor, innocent child, must suffer too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us not think of it," said Lady Carlyon, -drawing her husband's lips to hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy said nothing, but his kiss and his -eyes were eloquent of love and gratitude. Then -Lady Carlyon went into the drawing-room and -Sir Percy followed her. Deep in his heart he -was a sentimentalist, and he loved his wife with -single-hearted devotion. He could not but -compare her, as she moved about the room, her -white cloth gown trailing upon the floor, with -the slim, pretty and inconsequent young girl -whose waltzing had first charmed him. She -was still slim and pretty, but she had grown -wise with soft, sweet wisdom. It was she, now, -who thought for him, smoothed over the rough -places, practised an easy and graceful -self-control, and was all that the wife of an -Ambassador should be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tea-tray was brought in, and Lady -Carlyon gave Sir Percy his tea, a thing -comforting in itself, with the same gracious air -that she would have handed it to the -Ambassador of France.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was in the ball-room that I first saw you, -waltzing with young Stanley, the naval officer," -said Sir Percy, drinking his tea with calm -deliberation, "and it was in the library that Lord -Baudesert warned me that a diplomat should -never marry an American, and I swore to him -I never would."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is all wrong in principle," replied Lady -Carlyon, making a pretty little grimace--she -retained for Sir Percy's benefit alone all the -little roguish tricks and airs which made Lucy -Armytage so charming, but would scarcely -have been becoming in Lady Carlyon--"I -never thought that anything would induce me -to marry any man outside of Kentucky. I have -often been shocked by your want of knowledge -of horses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy tweaked her ear. The form and -ceremony with which horses were treated in -England had been a revelation to Lady Carlyon, -and Sir Percy himself was no mean judge of -a horse. Nevertheless, Lady Carlyon, when -she chose to be once more Lucy Armytage, -would give herself supercilious airs to Sir -Percy upon all equine subjects.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You hardly know a horse from a cow, my -Lady Lucy," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the name by which he called his wife -when they were alone. He had explained to -her at the beginning of their married life, when -instructing her in titles, that she could not -really be Lady Lucy Carlyon unless she were -an earl's daughter, to which Lucy replied -demurely that she had always supposed every -gentleman in Kentucky to be the equal of the -biggest earl in England. The small joke -amused Sir Percy, and from that on she -became to him "Lady Lucy." In some way Lord -Baudesert had also caught the name, which so -pleased his fancy that "Lady Lucy" became -applied in tenderness to Lady Carlyon. It -recalled Lord Baudesert, and Lady Carlyon said, -as she gave Sir Percy his second cup of tea:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think your uncle will be able to keep -away long from Washington. He will be sure -to come back here as a visitor. He declares -that he finds London, Paris, Vienna and Berlin -dull after Washington."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps it is because he is no longer an -Ambassador, or else that the English, French, -German and Austrian sense of humour is not -so acute as he found the American, and my -uncle can't have the ambassadorial joke as he -did here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Mrs. Chantrey is still unmarried," said -Lady Carlyon, and then they both laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon kept away from the hateful -subject of Mrs. March, but Sir Percy understood -well that his wife would shoulder the burden -and carry it bravely and quietly. The idea of -Alicia March being under his roof was odious -and humiliating to Sir Percy Carlyon, but he -saw no way out of it. His immediate departure -for England after his marriage, and thence to -his Continental post, had kept Lady Carlyon -and Alicia March apart. The Carlyons had -not been to America but once since, and then -only for a few weeks, within a year of their -marriage. Colonel Armytage had been stricken -with paralysis, and Lady Carlyon, with Sir -Percy, had hastened to him, arriving in time to -find him conscious, but dying. Mrs. Armytage -had followed her husband within a fortnight, -her last days tended by Lady Carlyon, to whom -she had been a mother. Within a month all -was over and Lady Carlyon returned to -Europe without going near Washington. The -chapter of accidents which Senator March -mentioned as having kept him and his wife -from meeting the Carlyons in Europe had been -really a series of clever stratagems on the part -of the latter. When the Marches were on the -Continent, especially at the Capitol, where Sir -Percy Carlyon took his preliminary canter as -Minister before winning the blue ribbon of an -Embassy, he and Lady Carlyon had found it -convenient to be absent at those times. Then -when the Marches went to London the -Carlyons managed to be on the Continent. Sir -Percy could not possibly put himself in the -position of avoiding General Talbott, who had -visited him at his Continental post, and had -been made an honoured guest. Only one -person suspected why the Marches and the -Carlyons had never met, and that was Alicia -March. Nor were the Carlyons the only -persons who avoided her, but of this her husband -remained entirely ignorant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stories of Senator March's wealth made -a sensation in the sphere of General Talbott's -and Mrs. March's acquaintances. Mrs. March -herself gave evidence of it in the splendour of -her jewels and the cost and exquisiteness of -her costumes. She spent with a lavish hand, -and the world knew it. Sir Percy Carlyon, -hearing rumours of this, thought to himself: -"It is the same Alicia, whose passion for -spending has grown by what it feeds on." Sir Percy -Carlyon turned these things over in his mind -while drinking tea on this December afternoon, -but he said nothing of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then when tea was over, following the custom -established after the birth of their first boy, the -Carlyons went upstairs to pay a visit to the -nursery. In saying good-night to the two -beautiful little children, Lady Carlyon knelt down -by their cribs and made a silent prayer, and Sir -Percy, standing near her, did likewise, and -thought himself the happiest of men, but for -one thing--that which had happened in the -far-away hill-country of India long years ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, on parting from the Ambassador -and Lady Carlyon, Senator March soon -reached his own door. The outward aspect -of the house had been changed and wonderfully -improved. The adjoining house on each -side had been demolished, and wings built out -in the same simple but dignified style of -architecture of the original house. One wing was -a ball-room and the other was a picture gallery. -As Senator March entered the hall a footman -handed him a box which contained a bouquet; -this was Roger March's daily tribute to his -wife ever since his marriage. Within the -house the note of luxury was struck, and it -increased in an ascending scale until it came -to Alicia March's boudoir, which was part of -the new building. Senator March's quarters -alone had escaped the tide of splendour, and -his own rooms remained as simple as in his -bachelor days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knocked at the door of 'his wife's boudoir -and Alicia bade him enter. The four years -and a half, which had developed Lucy Armytage -into an Ambassadress worthy of the name, -had also made a subtle change in Alicia March. -She was apparently no older than on the day -when she had first seen Roger March. She -was an admirable subject for the great London -and Paris dressmakers, and she had reached -that stage of a woman's existence where dress -ceases to be a passion and becomes a fine art. -Time had left no mark on her, but her eyes--her -beautiful violet eyes--had an expression -of apprehension, even of fear, in them, and she, -heretofore the most placid and self-controlled -of women, had become strangely nervous. She -started as her husband entered, but smiled as -she received his gift of flowers with the graceful -thanks which she never omitted. Then Senator -March asked her how the day had passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," she replied. "I didn't wish to -go out until you had come in. What have you -been doing to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I worked like a cart horse until three o'clock, -then walked uptown for exercise, and whom -do you think I saw half-a-square away?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Carlyons," answered Mrs. March -calmly. "I saw them drive past. Did you -speak to them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes! I was delighted to see them again. -You know I have a special reason for gratitude -to Carlyon, as it was through him I met you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. March turned her beautiful eyes on her -husband with a look which every woman's eyes -have when she receives a sincere compliment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy is looking very well; that man has -had unbroken good fortune of the most brilliant -sort. I believe him to be the youngest -Ambassador in the diplomatic service, and Lady -Carlyon!--bless me--she is Lucy Armytage -and yet she is not Lucy Armytage--that is to -say, she has grown up. She has a charming -dignity without the slightest pretension, and -one can see at a glance that she will do well -anywhere. They had stopped the carriage for -a moment to speak to their children, two fine boys."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw them, too," said Mrs. March; "they -looked quite adorable. Did Sir Percy ask for -me or send me any message?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March tried to recall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I really can't remember anything special. -Both of them were most cordial, and Lady -Carlyon particularly said she hoped to see us -very soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. March smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy has forgotten, perhaps," she said -softly after a moment, "his first six months in -India."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I think not! He told me during our first -acquaintance all about that and the enormous -obligations he was under to your father. We -must call and see the Carlyons very soon, and -have them here to dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Alicia suddenly changed the subject, and -began to ask him about his day's work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a tremendous amount of work on -hand for the committee, as there is a great -mass of information to be mastered before one -can treat intelligently this whole railway -subject, for instance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Senator March went on to describe the -pitfalls and obstacles in the way of certain -intended legislation concerning railways. His -wife listened with the deepest attention, -occasionally putting in an intelligent question. -Presently the Senator said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe you know as much about the matter -as I do. You should be an interstate commerce -commissioner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia smiled, she rarely laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the way with Englishwomen: we -accommodate ourselves to our husbands -instead of requiring them to mould themselves -to us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a very pleasant way," replied Senator -March gallantly, and then, being full of his -subject, he went on talking about it until, -suddenly recalling himself, he said: "You have not -been for your drive and it is already growing -dark. I can't go with you to-day; I have a lot -more of this business on hand in my study."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think I shall drive this afternoon," -replied Mrs. March. "I think I shall walk for -half-an-hour. You wish to be undisturbed -until dinner?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Senator March, going into his -own quarters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten minutes later Mrs. March, in a plain -walking dress, with a thin black veil over her -face, went out of her own door, and when she -was well around the corner called a cab and -gave the address of a plain hotel in the lower -part of the city. As she leaned back in the -ramshackle cab she drew her veil still more -closely over her face and tried to collect her -thoughts for the interview which she sought, -but her mind wandered to all manner of -subjects. How strange it was that she, the wife -of one of the richest men in the Senate, with -an allowance which was a fortune in itself, -should be at that moment harassed for money! -She never remembered the time in her life that -such had not been the case. When she married -Senator March it was with the expectation that -never again as long as she lived would she ever -want for money, but within the year the old -emptiness of purse returned. Money slipped -through her fingers she knew not how. She -loved pearls and diamonds and beautiful things -with an insatiable love. Senator March had -loaded her with jewels, but she wanted more. -It seemed to her that wealth was not wealth if -one had to consider how it was spent. That -principle had caused her to spend not only a -splendid income, but had piled up debts to -which her old burdens were a mere nothing. -The same principle of shame and even fear -that she had felt toward her father prevented -her from opening her heart to her husband, -the soul of indulgence. There was a kind of -rigid morality about Roger March, and the -idea that she had made debts which she -concealed from him she knew would appear as a -crime in his eyes. He would, of course, pay -them--of that she felt quite certain--but in -spite of her husband's love and gentleness, he -had always inspired her with a certain fear, -just as her father did, and General Talbott -would know the whole story which she so -shrank from telling. She found a curious lack -of power in herself to stop spending money. -Then came Nicholas Colegrove's opportunity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had seen Alicia March several times -during the first winter of her marriage, when she -immediately became one of the great hostesses -of Washington. Colegrove was by nature -social, and liked, as well as any one, a good -dinner, a good glass of wine and a pretty -woman on each side of him. His position as the -moving spirit of an association of great -railways, which some people called a conspiracy, -placed him somewhat at a disadvantage with -public men in Washington. Senator March, -however, liked Colegrove well enough, and was -by no means afraid of him, and if Alicia March -wanted to have him at her brilliant dinners -her husband made no objection. Senator -March was chairman of the committee which -was dealing with Colegrove and his associates, -but so far nothing had been discovered of a -nature damaging to Colegrove or his friends. -As he good-humouredly told Senator March, -the railways asked only to be let alone; and -Senator March, with equal good humour, -replied that was the very thing that the -committee did not mean to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the committee would not agree to let -Colegrove alone, but persisted in asking prying -questions, the next best thing for him was to -find out exactly what the committee knew, and -how it proposed to act. Alicia March was the -instrument ready to his hand. Colegrove, who -had a vast quantity of that semi-divine gift -known as common-sense, was under no illusion -respecting Alicia March's influence over her -husband. Senator March was deeply devoted -to his wife, but neither she nor any other -human being who ever lived could swerve -Roger March from his duty, or cause him to -betray the smallest trust. He was not, -however, on guard against his wife, and Colegrove -knew it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he passed the March house late at night -and saw the lights burning in Senator March's -study, and knew that he was at work there with -his clerk and a stenographer, Colegrove longed -to know what they were writing. How easy it -would be for Mrs. March to make a few copies -of the letters and memoranda, which would be -immensely useful to the A.F.&O.! Reflecting -on this, Colegrove cultivated Mrs. March's -society. Being a man of acute observation, he -found out some things about Alicia March -which not even her husband knew. He -discovered that she had a strange sense of -dislocation in her new place. She had been forced, -as she thought, in her previous life to have -many concealments, and she still had them, but -they gave her a vague sense of discomfort -which she had never known before. Still the -habit was upon her, and she had the conviction -that concealment, however wrong, was -absolutely necessary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove alone of all the men she had ever -known seemed to penetrate at once into -everything which she wished to keep secret. He had -got out of her the fact that she was pressed for -money within a year of her marriage. This -he proposed to remedy in a manner at once -easy, simple and honourable: to get hold of -stocks which would cost next to nothing to -buy, and would sell for a fortune, and this -he would do for Alicia March in his own name. -He made the condition, however, that she -should not mention it to her husband, and to -this Alicia March agreed readily enough, -knowing the transaction could not take place -unless it were kept a secret from Senator -March. Then money flowed into her hands, -not enough to make her independent of Colegrove, -but enough to ease the perpetual strain. -At this point Colegrove had asked her to get -copies of certain letters which he knew were -in Senator March's desk in his study. At this -Alicia recoiled and then refused, but when -payment was demanded for a couple of black pearls -which she had bought, and her dividends from -her stocks were not forthcoming, Colegrove told -her plainly that he must have copies of those -letters before any more money was paid. Alicia -had realised some time before that she was -playing a dangerous game, but who fears the -danger of a game as long as one is winning? -It was ridiculously easy to get what Colegrove -wanted, and love for the black pearls was -stronger in Alicia March than honour or fear. -Colegrove got his copies and Alicia's stock -suddenly, according to Colegrove, declared a -tremendous dividend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove congratulated himself on what he -had accomplished with Mrs. March and -incidentally was scorched. All men are dreamers -of dreams, and at last the dream took shape -with Colegrove that he should force a wedge -between Roger March and his wife. As for -Colegrove's own wife, the fretful lady in a -far-away western city, that was easily -managed--he could drive her into a divorce any -day he liked. He was the last man on earth -who would betray himself, and what seemed -an unguarded outbreak of passion for Alicia -March was really a carefully calculated -procedure. Alicia received it with a calmness and -capacity to deal with the situation which -showed him that she was no apprentice in such -matters. She held him off, but she did not -break with him. Each was too useful to the -other to come to an open rupture, and so -matters had gone on for more than three years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In that time no human being, not even Roger -March, suspected that Alicia March and Colegrove -ever met except in the presence of others, -and generally at dinners. Nevertheless, they -had brief interviews, chiefly relating to bills -and their payment, and papers were handed -over to Colegrove, and crisp new bills for -considerable amounts were received by Alicia. -These meetings generally took place in -unfrequented streets and parks at twilight, and -might easily be explained as accidental. Those -were not occasions of sentiment, but when -Alicia and Colegrove met in drawing-rooms -Colegrove then said things which conveyed to -Alicia that her husband was puritanical in his -ideas, which Colegrove was not, and when she -should find Roger March intolerable there was -a refuge waiting her. It seemed quite natural -to Alicia March to hear these veiled -declarations from Colegrove. She admired the -ingenuity with which he made them and listened -to them with a smiling composure, the meaning -of which not all Colegrove's acuteness could -discover. Alicia herself did not know her own -feeling towards her husband, nor had the -brilliant life upon which she had entered -acquired any true sense of reality and proportion. -She felt as if she were living in a dream, silent, -changeful, exciting, but still a dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the cab jogged along over the streets Alicia -turned all these things over in her mind. It -was the first time she had ever had a meeting -with Colegrove which was open to the slightest -suspicion, but Colegrove had written to her -that he did not desire it to be known that he -was in Washington while the great railroad -legislation was pending until he should be -called as a witness, and for that reason he -would come to Washington for a few hours, -stopping at a plain hotel where he was not -known, when he was supposed to be on a -hunting trip in Pennsylvania.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was almost dark when she stepped out of -the cab in front of the hotel where Colegrove -was staying. He was watching for her and -came down the steps to meet her. Time had -dealt lightly with him, and he was the same -strong, supple, keen-eyed man of four years -before, with the same captivating frankness of -manner, which did not reveal himself, but -revealed others to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," he said, when Alicia and he were -in the lobby of the little hotel, "you won't mind -coming to my sitting-room, where we can talk -privately?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mind very much," replied Alicia coolly. -"There must be a public drawing-room somewhere -about, and we can talk there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here it is," replied Colegrove, opening a -door near by and entering a large, showily -furnished room glaring with gas. "But this is -a very public drawing-room," said Colegrove, -smiling, "and it is not to be supposed that -Mrs. March is not known by sight to a great many -people who are not on her visiting list. You -had better come to my sitting-room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without a word Alicia followed him to the -lift and they ascended one flight. Colegrove's -sitting-room was a small replica of the -drawing-room below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a good many years since I entertained -a lady in a place like this, but I hope you will -excuse it. I don't want your husband's -committee to know that I am within a hundred -miles of this town. Before we begin talking -business, tell me how you have been. You are -looking blooming, as well as I can see under -that veil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I remembered that you told me," was Alicia's -reply, "that you must have copies of the -correspondence. I never have any trouble in -getting copies, but it always makes me -ashamed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove paid no attention to the latter -sentence, but stored up the first, and thought it a -lucky admission on Alicia's part. She opened -the costly little bag which she carried in her -hand, and took out half-a-dozen letters, which -Colegrove read rapidly, and with an air of -satisfaction. Then, putting them in his breast -pocket, he said pleasantly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, that A.F.&O. stock has gone -sky-high, and will soon go down in a hole in -the ground. I sold a thousand shares of that -investment of yours which stands in my name, -and here is the money for it. You understand -why I am obliged to give it to you in money -instead of a cheque?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He handed out a roll of bills, naming a -considerable sum, and Alicia, without counting it, -put it into her bag. Colegrove, having transacted -the business part of the interview, would -have liked to have had half-an-hour's conversation -with Mrs. March, whose charming voice -and speaking eyes had a steady and increasing -fascination for him, but Alicia would not stay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can talk," she said, "when you come to -Washington openly. My husband, I think, -likes you very much, and he says he is warring -on the corporation, not on individuals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you ask me to dinner, Mrs. March?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With pleasure," replied Alicia, smiling faintly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad it gives you a little pleasure; it -gives me a great deal," replied Colegrove. -"When a man has led the life that I have led, -and has to do with large affairs, most women -appear to him like children whose range of -ideas is soon exhausted. Not so with you, -however."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never was reckoned a clever woman," -responded Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lord! I hate cleverness in both men -and women. It assumes to be everything and -takes the place of nothing. But you have lived -from the very hour you made that unlucky first -marriage. No one admires Senator March -more than I do, but he ought to have married -a purely conventional person, like Miss -Chantrey, for example, whom I have met at your -house. There must be a good many things you -can't talk about to your husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove's words were guarded, but something -in his tone expressed a subtle contempt -for Senator March. Suddenly, and without -the slightest premonition, Alicia March felt -herself colouring with anger at Colegrove's -words. He dared to say one word against her -husband in her presence! It was the first -strong feeling she had ever experienced where -Roger March was concerned, and it lighted up -her eyes, and brought the blood to her face, and -she answered him sharply:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not worthy of my husband, you and -I both know it," and walked out of the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove followed her, hat in hand, and full -of apologies, professing ignorance as to how he -had offended her. She allowed him to assist her -into the cab, but merely bade him a chilly -good-bye. Colegrove watched the cab as it fumbled -off in the dusk and then said to himself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall let her get into a tighter place than -ever for money before I give her another lift. -But, by Jove! if I were in March's place I would -have had that woman's confidence long ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it occurred to him that there was in -reality a great gulf between Senator March -and the woman who was his wife, and a man -like himself. This did not disconcert -Colegrove in the least, as it was his invariable -practice to see things as they were and never -to blink the truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was half-past six o'clock before Alicia -March entered the door of her home. Instead -of going to her boudoir, she went into Senator -March's study. He was at his desk hard at -work--he was known as the hardest worked -man in the Senate--but he had not failed to -notice his wife's absence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really," he said, turning in his chair and -taking her hand as she came forward into the -circle of light cast by the old-fashioned student -lamp which burned upon his desk, "you must -not stay out so late. If I had known in what -direction you had walked, I should have gone -to meet you at six o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are fanciful," replied Alicia, and, for -almost the first time in their married life, gave -him an unasked caress, passing her arm around -his neck and stooping to kiss him. It was not -lost on Senator March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know how to win pardon," he said, -"but--but don't do it again. Since you have -been gone I have been studying up some of the -performances of your friend Colegrove, and I -can't make out whether he is a virtuous sufferer -or a very able and accomplished scamp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I met Mr. Colegrove while I was out," said -Alicia, remembering the sum in her little bag, -which would by no means pay all her bills, "and -I promised to ask him to dinner," and then -suddenly remembered that Colegrove had told her -not to mention his presence in Washington. -She had in truth been thinking more of her -husband than of Colegrove for the last half-hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March, however, did not observe any -significance in his wife's casual words, and -answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, very well! I am not down on Colegrove -personally; he is a very good dinner guest, and -there isn't any reason why you shouldn't ask -him if you wish to. Will you invite him to -meet the Carlyons?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia March turned a little pale at the -suggestion. She had begun to be somewhat afraid -of Colegrove's singular acuteness and power -to make her tell things she did not mean to tell -him. He might divine something of that past -which had existed between Sir Percy Carlyon -and herself. And Sir Percy, having known her -long before either Colegrove or her husband, -might suspect something between Colegrove -and herself. She had, however, been used to -these complications for many years, and could -readily bring herself to meet them. Her sense -of humour was small, but she had a glimmer -when she said to her husband:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; we can have Mr. Colegrove and the -Carlyons together."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">X</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Within a week Senator and Mrs. March one -afternoon paid their first visit to the British -Embassy. At the moment of greeting, -Mrs. March saw that Lady Carlyon knew all of the -story of what had occurred sixteen years -before. Not that Lady Carlyon showed the -slightest haughtiness or restraint on meeting -Mrs. March; on the contrary, her bearing was -perfect and her dignity and grace could not -have been surpassed. Lady Carlyon was by no -means the Lucy Armytage whom Mrs. March, -as Alicia Vernon, had cross-examined so easily -four years before. But there is a psychic -understanding between women, a glance of the -eye, a note of the voice, which tells the story -to which the words may give a flat contradiction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It cannot be said, however, that Sir Percy -Carlyon's demeanour was perfect in spite of -his sixteen years' training in diplomacy. The -deep resentment which burned within him -against Mrs. March was kindled into new life -when he saw her shaking hands with his wife, -and his greeting showed a certain restraint; -nor was he over-cordial to Senator March, but -this passed unobserved. There were other -visitors present, and nothing in the least -awkward occurred. Alicia had one moment of that -revenge which is the sweetest draught a woman -can quaff when, as the visit drew to a close, -she said smilingly to Lady Carlyon and Sir -Percy:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Senator March tells me that you have promised -to give us the pleasure of dining with us -before long. Can you fix the date now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy remained silent, but Lady Carlyon -replied readily:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall have to look at our book of engagements -and I will write. You are most kind to -ask us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," answered Alicia, with a peculiar -inflection of pleasure in her voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would be one of the most triumphant -moments of her life when she forced Sir Percy -Carlyon to bring his wife to dine with her. -Senator March, standing by, expressed a frank -and cordial pleasure at the prospect of seeing -the Carlyons under his own roof. Man-like, he -had observed nothing in the attitude of Sir -Percy and Lady Carlyon, either towards himself -or his wife, and Alicia was the last person -on earth to enlighten him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within a day or two a pretty note came from -Lady Carlyon saying that she and Sir Percy -would have the pleasure of dining with Senator -and Mrs. March on the thirtieth of January, -if that date would be convenient to their -hostess. Alicia passed the note over to her -husband across the tea-table in her boudoir, -and smiled as she tried to realise the effort it -had caused the wife of the British Ambassador -to write it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every incident connected with the dinner was -an added triumph to Mrs. March. She -collected a brilliant company, even in that place -of brilliant dinners--Washington--and -Colegrove was among the invited guests. She had -engaged a great singer to lend the magic of -his voice to the evening afterwards. In every -detail she had the kindest interest of her -husband. She was an Englishwoman entertaining, -for the first time, the Ambassador from her -own country, and Senator March determined -that she should do it well. He even gave his -attention to his wife's gown and jewels, which -were consequently superb.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the evening of the dinner, Alicia March -was dressed and in her splendid drawing-room -half-an-hour before the guests were -due. She was conscious of looking her best; -splendour became her mature beauty. Like -most Englishwomen of her class she knew -how to wear jewels, her hair glittered with -diamonds which fell in a glorious </span><em class="italics">rivière</em><span> upon -her bosom, and sparkled on her arms. Senator -March, coming down later, paid her a sincere -compliment in saying that he had never seen -her look so handsome. They went into the -dining-room, a superb apartment in Pompeian -red, and glanced into the ball-room, where the -music was to take place after dinner. All was -satisfactory to Senator March and more than -satisfactory to his wife. With the nicety of -courtesy, the first guests to arrive were the -Carlyons. Lady Carlyon seemed, as Senator -March had said, to have grown taller, certainly -her air and figure had gained great beauty in -the four years of her married life. She wore -an exquisitely fitting, but perfectly simple, -white gown, with a bouquet of violets on her -breast; not a jewel of any description shone -upon her. She had jewels, of course, as every -woman of position would have, and Mrs. March -happened to know that there were some -very nice family jewels which Sir Percy's wife -must have, but not one of them did Lady -Carlyon wear on this occasion. She was a good -diplomatist, as Lord Baudesert predicted she -would become, but, like all women, there was a -point with her where diplomacy gave way to -feeling. Lady Carlyon had schooled herself to -meet Alicia March, had fought and outwardly -conquered the deep repugnance and disdain she -felt for the woman who had made a blot upon -her husband's life; but when she had the -chance Lady Carlyon, like Achilles, could not -forbear dragging her dead enemy at her -chariot wheels. She knew that Alicia March -would blaze with splendour, and therefore -elected to dress with marked simplicity. She -was as simply gowned as on that memorable -night in her girlhood when she attended her -first Embassy ball, and met her fate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the two women stood contrasted, Alicia -March knew at once what Lady Carlyon's -studied simplicity meant, and felt herself -overdressed and bedizened, but she gave no hint of -her chagrin. As each guest arrived Alicia -March felt as if she were paying off the score -between the Carlyons and herself. Her -position and prestige as Senator March's wife must -be obvious to the Carlyons. The last person to -arrive was Colegrove. He was certainly the -handsomest man present, but by no means the -most distinguished, and could not have the -place of honour on Alicia's left hand. -When Mrs. March took Sir Percy Carlyon's -arm to go in to dinner it was the first time -she had so touched him since those days on -the frontier of Afghanistan. She gave him a -look, half mirthful, half menacing, but wholly -triumphant, which Sir Percy understood. His -manner to her was rather an indifferent piece -of acting, but this was not observed by any one -except Mrs. March and Lady Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dinner was splendid--rather too splendid -Alicia realised; her tendency was somewhat to -excess. The conversation was agreeable and -sparkling. Alicia was an accomplished hostess; -without great brilliance and </span><em class="italics">esprit</em><span> herself, she -knew how to bring out these qualities in others, -and Senator March shone in his own house. -Colegrove, sitting on the opposite side of the -vast round table, saw nothing at first, except -the natural desire of an Englishwoman to do -honour to her own Ambassador and Ambassadress, -but he noted the extreme simplicity of -Lady Carlyon's gown, and thought her the -handsomer for it. Nevertheless it puzzled him, -but as soon as his eyes fell on his hostess a light -dawned upon him. There was some rivalry -between these two women. With that first -thread to go on, he observed his hostess and -her guests more closely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the ladies rose Mrs. March led the way -into the picture gallery. Lady Carlyon did not, -as Mrs. March supposed she would, subtly -avoid her hostess. On the contrary, she -remained close to Alicia, whom she asked to tell -her the names of the artists whose pictures were -on the wall, Lady Carlyon listening with -smiling attention. Presently it dawned upon Alicia -March's mind that Lady Carlyon was making -her exhibit her possessions and give a list of -them--it was Lady Carlyon now who had the -upper hand and not Alicia. Mrs. March, -however, went around the gallery with Lady -Carlyon, and by that time the men appeared, -and a few other guests invited for the -after-dinner music. Colegrove was now watching -with all his eyes. Senator March in his hearty, -outspoken way, had mentioned the friendship -of General Talbott and Sir Percy Carlyon in -those early days on the Afghan frontier, and -Colegrove knew that Alicia had been with her -father at that time. Sir Percy shied off -from the subject very obviously, and this was -not lost on Colegrove. All of this made -Colegrove suspect that there had been an affair -between Sir Percy Carlyon and Mrs. March. -He recollected that she had never mentioned -Sir Percy to him, although she had spoken -freely of persons and events in her life. He -sat turning these things over in his mind with -the interest with which everything concerning -Alicia awakened in him, at the time he was -listening to the great tenor whose every note -was worth a bank-note.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the evening was over, and most of the -guests had taken their departure, Colegrove, -going up to Mrs. March, said to her smilingly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look quite superb to-night. Lady -Carlyon evidently didn't wish to be in the -competition. When a woman wears a simple white -gown and a bunch of violets she means -something by it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia smiled faintly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps Lady Carlyon thought the occasion -not important enough for jewels," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She won't find a more important occasion," -replied Colegrove, laughing, "not even at the -White House, as that is purely perfunctory, -you know, when she goes in on the same -footing as the Chinese Ambassador and the Korean -Minister. I am afraid Lady Carlyon is slightly -unappreciative. Good-night, and thank you -for a charming evening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After accepting the Marches' dinner invitation -it was inevitable that they should be placed -upon the dinner list of the British Embassy, so -Lady Carlyon told Sir Percy, as they drove -back through the January night to the -Embassy, and it must be done at once; for Senator -March was a man who could not be ignored -either socially or politically, Lady Carlyon -reminded Sir Percy, urging him at the same time -to be more cordial to Senator March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never saw a man I liked better than -March," replied Sir Percy; "he was the first -friend I made in Washington, but I admit that -it staggers me to look at him in the light of -Alicia Vernon's husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid," answered Lady Carlyon, "that -it will be observed in spite of all that I can do -to smooth things over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think I could have managed it at all -without you," replied Sir Percy; "you are the -better diplomatist of the two."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you may always expect something great -from Bardstown, Kentucky!" replied Lady -Carlyon, and was Lucy Armytage again, -looking with sweet, laughing eyes into her -husband's sombre face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within a fortnight an invitation to dine at the -British Embassy came for Senator March and -his wife, and it was accepted. It was not to be -supposed, however, that the Marches and the -Carlyons had not met many times during that -fortnight. They moved in the same orbit and -were continually within sight of each other. -Sir Percy, bearing in mind Lady Carlyon's -caution, was more cordial in his manner to Senator -March. He found no difficulty in being so, for -the two men met, as they often did in the -society of men alone, at men's dinners, at the -club, and like places. Sir Percy, following the -example of Lord Baudesert, was an indefatigable -student of American affairs, and Senator -March was a mine of information.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a source of some surprise to Senator -March that there was nothing like intimacy -between the Carlyons and his wife and -himself. He could see that his wife and Sir Percy -Carlyon did not stand to each other in the -relation of old friends, although they were old -acquaintances. And there was something -guarded in the attitude of Lady Carlyon and -Alicia March towards each other. He would -have liked very much to have renewed his old -friendship and even fondness for Lady -Carlyon, but although she met him with -unvarying sweetness, she did not take up the -thread of intimacy which had existed between -them from the days when she was a school-girl -and he was a senator. Senator March had -lived long enough to know that there are -strange convolutions in personal relations, -especially between women. It soon became -plain that Alicia March and Lady Carlyon -were not drawn together. Senator March's -confidence in his wife was such that he felt -sure that her course was regulated by good -taste and good sense, and that was enough for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dinner at the Embassy was brilliant, and -Lady Carlyon did the honours with extraordinary -grace. This time she wore very handsome -jewels, although nothing to compare with -those of Alicia March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March had intended to suggest to -Alicia that she should invite the Carlyons to -spend the week-end at the country place where -their romance had culminated, but, seeing the -futility of his plan, did not mention it even to -his wife. Meanwhile great affairs pressed -upon him. The big railways had been finally -brought to bay and Senator March, as chairman -of the committee of investigation, had his -hands full. Colegrove was in town continuously -and spent many days explaining the -inexplicable before the committee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March, listening, tabulating and -making notes, began to have a very high admiration -for Colegrove's abilities and even a belief in the -man. Great corporations, Senator March -knew, are not associations of archangels for the -benefit of the human race, but commercial -organisations, with an eye to profit. All of this -was taken into account by Senator March in -judging Colegrove and his </span><em class="italics">confrères</em><span>. One -thing, however, was certain: Colegrove was the -real man who was making the fight. His -colleagues showed great confidence in him, and it -was plain that he had organised, and was -directing, the campaign. He had contrived, -however, to arouse the antagonism of certain -members of the committee; the investigation -threatened to become a prosecution, and -Senator March found himself often in the position -of defending, and bespeaking a fair show for, -Colegrove. The interest of the public in the -railway question was widespread and intense. -The Presidential election was less than a year -off, and the party in power was relying upon -its treatment of two or three great questions, -of which this was one, to secure the next -administration. In fact, politics entered so -largely into the railway question that many -public men lost sight of justice. Not so Senator -March. He had no higher ambition than the -senatorship, and laughed when it was -suggested that he should enter the presidential -race, but swore when he was asked to consider -the vice-presidency. He was entirely satisfied -with his place as senator, of which he was now -serving his third term, and believed that he -could hold it as long as he desired it. He had, -in short, reached that lofty height--always a -dangerous point in human affairs--when his -life, his surroundings, his career, everything -satisfied him exactly. He had no children, and -that alone was a disappointment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thought that all his wishes and ambitions -were satisfied came over him one afternoon in -March when he reached his own door. Alicia -was waiting for him in her splendid victoria, -perfectly turned out in every particular. She -looked uncommonly handsome, and greeted -him, as always, with the greatest amiability. -Senator March getting into the carriage, they -drove off toward the park. Alicia wore a -particularly charming white hat, and her husband -told her so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was afraid the hat was too young for me," -she replied, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," protested Senator March; "a -charming woman is always young. It is one -of my greatest sources of happiness that you -are not a girl-wife who would drag me around -to tea parties and balls, and not have any -respect for my years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you had a hard day's work?" asked -Alicia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very. So much so that I have not been able -to glance at the afternoon papers. If you will -excuse me, I will look at the headlines."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By that time they had reached the beautiful -wooded park, where, fifteen minutes from the -fashionable quarter of Washington, one can -be in the heart of the woods. The afternoon -was balmy and the scent of the spring was in -the air; all the earth was brown and green, and -on the southern slopes of the hillsides little -leaves were coming out shyly; already the blue -birds and robins were riotous with song, and -between the interlacing tree-tops, full of brown -buds, the sky shone blue with the blueness of -spring. The stream, swollen by the melting -snows, rushed and swirled, and the little -waterfalls laughed and danced madly in the golden -sunlight. The park was full of smart carriages, -automobiles and men and girls on horseback.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March, taking the newspaper out of -his pocket, adjusted his glasses and began to -read. Alicia March lay back in her corner of -the carriage, seeing neither her husband nor -the beauty and glory of earth and sky around -her. It was the old story, she knew not where -to turn for money, and the sum she had spent -and what she had to show for it bewildered -her. Colegrove, for the third or fourth time, -had demanded copies of certain letters and -documents, and Alicia knew that no money would -be forthcoming until she had secured them. -Colegrove had not become in the least insolent -in his manner; on the contrary, Alicia saw, -with the eye of experience, that he was -becoming more ingratiating. She even suspected that -Colegrove was after another kind of stake, and -more delicate plunder than legislation -favourable to railways. She felt a singular and -growing dislike to deceiving her husband. It was -new to her, and was a part of that strange -dislocation and unreality of life that she should -have scruples. Formerly she had not known -what scruples meant and had no fears -whatever, but now she was troubled with both -scruples and fears, which bewildered and -tormented her. If she ceased to hold any -communication with Colegrove it meant a -revelation of her debts, her duns, and complications -to her husband, and if she continued upon the -path in which she had entered a precipice lay -before her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia March and her husband sat silent for -half-an-hour as the thoroughbred horses, -champing their bits, trotted slowly along the -wooded road. All at once Alicia glanced at -her husband; his face had turned an ashen -grey, and his eyes, with a strange expression -in them, were fixed upon the newspaper before -him and he was as motionless as a dead man. -Then as Alicia watched him with amazed and -terrified eyes, he glanced at her and silently laid -the newspaper in her lap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the front page, with great headlines, was -a double-leaded article of several columns -devoted to Colegrove. In it was laid bare -Colegrove's whole career, especially his management -of the great railway interests confided to -him. As Senator March had seen long before, -Colegrove had gained a complete ascendancy -over his associates, who followed his -leadership like so many schoolboys. Then came the -most singular part of all--the assertion that -Colegrove had got advance information, which -was invaluable to him, through the wife of a -certain public man, and although Senator -March's name was not mentioned, it was so -plainly indicated that it was impossible to -mistake who was meant. Then came a history of -Colegrove's alleged transactions in stocks for -the benefit of the senator's wife, and many -other particulars, which Alicia had supposed -were known only to herself and Colegrove. -She read the article through rapidly, to the -accompaniment of the steady beat of the horse's -hoofs on the park road and the soft carolling -of the woodland birds. She felt herself -growing benumbed like a person being paralysed by -inches; when she finished reading the article -she made an effort to speak, which seemed to -cost her all her strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop," she said to the footman, and then -turning to her husband said: "Let us walk a -little way in the woods down by the water."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The carriage stopped and the footman jumped -down and assisted Senator March to alight, -and Mrs. March followed him. The two -walked together into a path which led down -to the water where there was a bench concealed -by some shrubbery. They both looked so pale, -and Senator March moved so heavily, that the -footman exchanged looks with the coachman -and remarked, putting his finger on his nose:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something is up between 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down by the water Senator March dropped -upon the bench and Alicia seated herself -beside him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a great blow," he said after a minute, -"a very great blow. It is the first aspersion -cast upon me or any of my family during the -thirty years of my public life. It is easy enough -to disprove it, but it is humiliating and terrible -that such things should be said of you and me, -my poor, innocent Alicia."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the very phrase which General Talbott -had so often used in Alicia's presence, and it -always moved and touched her, but not as it -did now. With her father, Alicia had ever felt -a sense of triumph that she had saved him the -knowledge of much that would have maddened -him, but with her husband she felt a strange -impulse to confess all. She was, however, not -a woman to act on such impulses and she -remained silent, turning her head away. She -could feel at first the pity in Senator March's -glance, and then by intuition she felt, rather -than saw, her husband's look change from pity -to startled inquiry and then to dreadful -certainty. Presently he said, in a voice so stern -that she scarcely recognised it as his own:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me, is it true? If you will deny it, I -will take your word against that of the whole -world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would have been so easy to say "No," and -Alicia could have said it readily enough to -any person on earth except her husband, but -something seemed to rise within her to forbid -the lie, and she remained silent: she either -could not or would not speak. All around them -was the silence of the woods, and they were -themselves so still that a robin, more daring -than his fellows, hopped close by their feet and -chirruped a sweet little song. After a long -pause Senator March repeated, in the same -voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you not speak? Am I to believe--" He -stopped, and Alicia longed to speak, but as -before no words came to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She rose as if to walk towards the carriage, -but she swayed so that her husband took her -arm to support her. Then they went up the -hill and, entering the waiting carriage, were -driven towards the city. Not a word was -spoken during the homeward drive. When -they reached the asphalted streets Senator -March directed the coachman to drive to the -smart hotel where Colegrove had a splendid -suite of rooms. Alicia's trembling heart sank -lower; she thought it a fearful blunder that -Senator March's carriage should be seen at -Colegrove's hotel, but Senator March had -never in his life concealed anything, and he -was too stunned to adopt any of the small -precautions of fear. When they reached the hotel -he alighted and said with somewhat of his usual -composure to the footman:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. March will drive home," and then, lifting -his hat to Alicia, he walked into the hotel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Entering the lift, the Senator went straight to -Colegrove's apartments. He opened the door -without knocking and turned into the study -of the suite, and there found Colegrove sitting -at a large table, covered with books and papers, -with a couple of the greatest railways' lawyers -in America sitting with him. March bowed to -them politely, and then, without sitting down, -said coldly to Colegrove:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must be allowed to interrupt these gentlemen -for a few minutes while I speak with you alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All three men had risen as Senator March -entered; he was too important a man to be -received with other than the highest respect, -nor did Colegrove make the slightest objection -to leading the way into the next room. The -light of battle was in his eye, and it was plain -that he was prepared to fight. After closing -the door he said at once:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have, of course, seen the story in the -afternoon newspapers? Much of it, I need -hardly say, is a batch of lies, a part of it we -have no reason to conceal, and the rest can be -explained. There is no occasion for anybody -to fall into a panic."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't come here to discuss that with you," -replied Senator March, looking fixedly at Colegrove.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wish to know about your wife's -transactions with me?" calmly asked Colegrove, -carrying the war into Africa according to his -invariable custom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March remained silent; he could not -bring himself to put into words what he had -come to ask. Colegrove went back into the -next room and, returning in a minute, brought -a tin box, which he opened. Out of it he took -every copy, every paper and letter which he -had received from Alicia March, and every -note in which she acknowledged receiving -money from him. Then from a little book he -read the statement of every dollar he had ever -paid Alicia March. The Senator, sitting at the -table with Colegrove, read every piece of -writing in the tin box, then, gathering them up in -his hands, he put them carefully in his breast -pocket. Colegrove, watching him meanwhile, -prepared to throw himself, with a vigour -acquired in his college days from a good boxing -master, upon Senator March if he attempted to -leave the room without returning the papers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-morrow," said March without a tremor, -"when the Senate is convened, I shall acknowledge -every charge against me. I shall also -claim that every penny which went out of your -pocket to my wife was paid to me, and I shall -resign my seat in the Senate, telegraphing the -Governor of the State to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a madman!" cried Colegrove.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the sanest act of my life," answered -Senator March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is but one thing to do," persisted -Colegrove, "and that is to deny everything and call -for proof."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March smiled slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Mr. Colegrove, we have different -standards. I see in your eye that you mean -to attack me in order to get these letters and -documents. Well, it would be of no use, -because my confession and resignation will not -call for proof."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove, for once staggered and at a loss, -allowed Senator March to open the door into -the next room, where the two lawyers stood -talking in low voices. The moment for using -force was lost and, besides, the Senator's -promise of confession and resignation put so new a -phase on the case that Colegrove was bewildered.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">XI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Senator March went downstairs and -passed through the hotel lobby, where -everybody stared at him open-mouthed, and went -out into the streets. The sun lay low in the -west, and the streets were full of people, -walking and driving. Many persons turned and -looked at him, some with pity, some with -contempt, some with incredulity. In ten minutes -he reached his own door; as he entered it he -said to the footman:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't admit any one to-night," and passed -upstairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knocked at the door of his wife's boudoir, -but receiving no answer, entered the luxurious -little room and found it empty, but through -the door leading into her bedroom he caught -sight of Alicia walking up and down the floor. -She had not removed her hat or even her -gloves, and was nervously twisting the handle -of her lace parasol as she walked restlessly -about the room. The bedroom, if possible, was -more luxurious than the boudoir. The red silk -hangings, which had once belonged to the -Empress Eugénie, had been paid for, not by -Senator March's money, as he had imagined, but -with money made by the alleged sale of stocks -by Colegrove. The mantel clock and -candelabra, real Louis Quinze gems, had come -from the same source, as had the great -silver-framed mirror on the dressing-table which -reflected Alicia's pale face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March entered the room without -ceremony and took from his breast pocket the -packet of letters and documents in Alicia's -handwriting, and handed them to her silently. -She took them in her trembling hands, glanced -at them and then gave them back to him. His -face, although perfectly composed, had the -same strange greyness about it which she had -noticed as they sat together on the bank of the -stream in the park. For the first time in her -life Alicia March felt a desire to throw wide -the doors of her soul and make a confession. -She was frightened at the impulse, and would -have restrained it, but her will power, usually -so strong, was as feeble over this impulse as the -hand of a child over a maddened horse. So -far she had not spoken a word since the -moment, less than an hour before, when the -discovery had been made, but now she burst forth:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what to say--he invested some -money for me," she began breathlessly, and -then went on, blundering, stammering and -sobbing, to tell him her transactions with Colegrove.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her husband heard her incoherent story -through, and when she stopped, panting and -wringing her hands, he remained silent for a -few minutes. Alicia turned her agonised face -away from him, covering it with her hands. -Presently the Senator spoke in a quiet voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say not one word of this to any one. To-morrow -I will acknowledge everything, only -saying that the money was paid to me instead -of to you, and that you are innocent. I shall -resign my seat in the Senate--I am telegraphing -to-night to the Governor of the State to -that effect. It is much better for us not to meet -again. I shall go to my ranch in the Sierras. -I gave you a deed to this house when we were -married, you remember, so it is yours, with -everything in it, except my books, and I will -give you an income to support it and to supply -every reasonable wish you may have, but on -one condition only."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia was looking at him with wide, wild eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is that condition?" she gasped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That you make no effort whatever to see -or communicate with me again. I shall leave -this house to-morrow morning, never to -re-enter it."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 64%" id="figure-30"> -<span id="i-shall-leave-this-house-to-morrow-morning-never-to-re-enter-it"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""'I shall leave this house to-morrow morning, never to re-enter it'"" src="images/img-236.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"'I shall leave this house to-morrow morning, never to re-enter it'"</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and went into his own study, closed -and locked the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia's mood of terror changed suddenly to -one of fury. She had heard of these people -who had no understanding of the temptations -that beset the weaker ones. Her husband had -decided everything as if she were a child, or -rather as if she had not existed; he had hardly -listened to her stumbling regrets, her sobbed-out -confession. In one short hour it seemed as -if his love had turned to the bitterest hate. If -he would but have been reasonable something -might have been done, but without one -moment's hesitation he was sacrificing himself -and her, too. She threw herself upon the bed, -torn with fury and remorse and a multitude of -emotions, which she could neither control nor -understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The servants in the house knew that -something had happened, and when dinner was -announced did not expect either the Senator or -Mrs. March to come down. Senator March, -however, did so, with the same extraordinary -coolness and courage with which he would have -dined the night before his execution. The -door-bell had been ringing constantly, and -cards, letters and telegrams had begun to -arrive in shoals. No one had been admitted, -but half-a-dozen reporters were camped out on -the pavement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Senator March's solitary dinner was -over he returned to his study and called up by -telephone his man of business, James Watson, -arranging with him to come at ten o'clock with -his stenographer, prepared to work all night if -necessary. As the evening wore on, the ringing -of the telephone and door-bells, the delivery -of despatches and letters increased, but only -one person was admitted other than Watson, -who arrived punctually at ten. About eleven -o'clock an elderly gentleman, whom the -footman recognised as the Secretary of State, -called, and when the footman gave the -stereotyped message, that Senator March asked to -be excused, the Secretary paid no attention to -it, walked across the hall and upstairs into the -study. Watson and the stenographer rose at -once, and left the floor clear for the great man -and the Senator.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about this yarn in the afternoon -newspapers?" asked the Secretary abruptly as soon -as the door closed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have just telegraphed to the Governor of -the State that a vacancy will exist in the Senate -after twelve o'clock to-morrow," answered -Senator March; "I am prepared to confess -everything before the Senate to-morrow and -resign my seat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you to confess?" asked the -Secretary, "it was your----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had meant to say "your wife," but -something in Senator March's eyes stopped him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am the guilty person," he said, looking the -Secretary steadily in the eye, "it is better for -me and better for the party that I should get -out now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" cried the Secretary of State.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just what I say. Not a vote will be lost to -the party in the Senate as the state legislature -is ours, but I must go, and go quickly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Secretary began an impetuous argument -but presently stopped, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fear it is useless for me to reason with you. -A Berserker madness possesses you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a question of honour," replied Senator -March.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Secretary of State, who had been walking -about the room eyeing Senator March, went -up to him and offered his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is useless for me to remain," he said. "I -think I know the truth of the business, and -perhaps I should act just as you are acting. -Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He grasped Senator March's hand, and the -two men, looking into each other's eyes, -understood perfectly. If Senator March -had been guilty, as he proclaimed, the -Secretary of State was not the man to offer him a -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, in these eventful hours, at the -White House, and at every other political -centre in Washington, the agitation was -profound, nor was it confined to those who had a -direct interest in Senator March's downfall. -That night there was a large dinner at the -British Embassy, and although the subject of -Senator March was uppermost in every mind -little was said about it, and that with bated -breath. It was too astounding and not to be -intelligently discussed until Senator March had -been heard. The general belief was not far -from the real truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the last guest was gone, Sir Percy and -his wife went to Lady Carlyon's own sitting-room. -It was the first moment they had been -alone together since they had seen the startling -news in the evening journal. As they entered -the room, Lady Carlyon gave her husband his -favourite chair, and drew the lamp shade so -that the light should not vex him--all those -graceful little attentions which are so soothing -to a wearied and perplexed man. She knew by -intuition what his first words would be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me," he said, "as if I had brought -about this whole frightful catastrophe, as I -introduced Senator March to Alicia Vernon. -But for me, and for my folly and bad conduct -sixteen years ago, Alicia Vernon and Senator -March would probably never have met. All -the consequences ought to have fallen upon me, -but you see they don't, they fall upon the man -who is the soul of truth and honour, and wreck -him while I sit in peace by my own fireside with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon, being a true woman, would -rather the consequences of her husband's early -misdoing should fall anywhere than on him, -and with a woman's conception or misconception -of abstract justice said so to Sir Percy. -He felt, however, as if the Fates and Furies -had fallen upon the wrong man. Lady Carlyon -combated this with tender sophistry, which did -not convince her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At all events," she said, "Senator March is -an innocent man, and can no doubt disprove all -these things. I should like to hear his -disclaimer. Would there be any objection to my -going to the Senate chamber, for of course the -matter will be taken up at once?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon had not been brought up in a -representative's family without knowing -something of the way things went on in Congress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you may go," replied Sir Percy. "Of -course, Senator March is innocent, but it would -be just like him to sacrifice himself for his wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As you or any other man, who is a man, -would do," responded Lady Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; but men are not called upon to sacrifice -themselves for the right kind of women like -yourself, my dainty Lady Lucy," and then they -kissed each other, and forgot for a time all the -troubles and perplexities and remorses of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next morning dawned clear and bright -and soft, an ideal spring morning in Washington. -Alicia March, who had not once lost herself -in sleep through all the miserable hours of -the night, rose early and dressed herself -without her maid. Throughout the splendid house -was the sombre and intangible atmosphere of -calamity; the servants had read the -newspapers, and knew that disgrace and disaster -were at hand for the master and mistress of -that house. They were full of curiosity, and -whispered among themselves, speculating upon -their chances of getting new places.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia watched the whole of the early morning -for some communication from her husband in -his locked room, only two doors away from her, -but there was no message or letter. Senator -March's own brougham always came for him -at half-past ten, and it was the same on this -fateful morning. Alicia, looking out of the -window, saw some light luggage brought down -and placed upon the box. She turned to her -desk, and writing a few appealing words, took -them herself to the door of the study and -knocked loudly. She could hear voices -within--Senator March giving his directions to his -secretary and to Watson, his man of business. -No attention was paid to her, not even when -she thrust the note under the door. There was, -however, a pause, and she thought perhaps her -husband was reading what she had to say. She -did not hear another door of the study open and -the three men pass quickly down the softly -carpeted stair, but hearing the bang of the -carriage door, she ran toward the window and saw -her husband drive off alone. A wild desire -took possession of her to see the tragedy -brought about by herself played to the end. -She rang the bell violently for her maid, and -with great agitation was dressed in the same -simple black gown and hat and thick veil she -had worn when going to Colegrove's hotel in -the winter. As on that day, she went out as -if to walk, not caring for her carriage to be -seen at the Capitol, and, calling a cab, directed -the man to drive her to the dome-capped -building on the hill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had feared being recognised, but when -seeing the surging mass of people, those crowds -of the unknown who year in and year out -swarm through the Capitol, pack the galleries -and block the corridors, who seem strangers -to the town and to each other, she realised that -there was little danger of her identity being -known. She joined the surging mass, and was -swept onward to the public gallery, where the -crowd was clamouring at the doors and the -doorkeepers were holding them back. Alicia, -making her way toward one of the doorkeepers, -whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am Mrs. March, and desire to go inside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man recognised her instantly; he had -often seen her passing through the corridors -on the way to and from the private gallery--Senator -March's wife was too important a person -to be unknown to the Capitol officials. He -opened the door a foot or two, and, still -keeping the crowd back, passed Alicia into the -gallery. There was scarcely standing room, -and Alicia was almost suffocated with the -pressure; nevertheless, standing at the very back -of the crowd, she was safe from observation. -She glanced around the great hall with its -grained-glass ceiling through which the yellow -sunlight filtered, casting a mellow glow upon -the scene. Nearly every senator was in his -seat, and every gallery, even the one sacred to -the diplomats, was filled. There on the front -bench sat Lady Carlyon. Never had she -appeared more handsome; she wore a white gown -and a hat decked with roses, and seemed the -epitome of the spring. She was smiling and -talking to the French Ambassador, who was -leaning over toward her. To Alicia's miserable -eyes it seemed as if Lady Carlyon were there to -flaunt her happiness, her splendid position, her -youth and beauty, in the face of the storm and -shipwreck which would that day befall Alicia -March and her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was still half-an-hour before the -Vice-President's gavel would fall, and it was one of -the most painful half-hours in Alicia March's -life. She cowered behind her neighbours and -dreaded to be seen, while Lady Carlyon seemed -to court the attention of which she was the -object. Precisely at twelve o'clock the Senate -was called to order and the Chaplain offered -a short prayer. Just as the prayer was -concluded, Senator March entered the chamber; -except for his deathly pallor, he gave no -indication of what he had undergone, nor of the -ordeal before him. He walked to his desk and -sat down; every eye was fixed upon him, but -there was some pretence of beginning routine -business. When he rose and, catching the -Vice-President's eye, asked to be heard upon -a point of the highest privilege, the -Vice-President bowed, and instantly silence like that -of death fell upon the Senate Chamber. -Senator March spoke in a perfectly composed -manner and his voice, though low and -agreeable, had a carrying power which made it -distinctly audible in every part of the vast hall -and galleries. He alluded to the publication -of the charges affecting him, and then -declared, without a quaver, that there was enough -of truth in them to make it advisable that he -should resign his seat in the Senate, adding -that he had already telegraphed his resignation -to the Governor of the State. He had nothing -to say in extenuation, and only one thing to say -in explanation; this last was that he alone was -concerned in the A.F.&O. transactions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There have been certain innuendos," he said, -raising his voice slightly, "against an innocent -person, a perfectly innocent and helpless -person, whom I now appear to defend. To bring, -even by implication, the name of this person -into this matter was most cruel and unjustifiable, -and I hereby protest against it with all -my might. I ask no consideration for myself, -but I demand it for that misjudged and blameless -person who has been attacked under the -cover of the public press. I leave this chamber -never to return to it; if a lifetime of regret -can atone for what, I now feel, was not the -proper use of my position as senator, these -acts of mine will be atoned. I can say no more, -and I can say no less."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whole incident did not occupy five -minutes. The breathless silence was maintained -as Senator March came out into the aisle and -bowed low to the Vice-President, by whom the -bow was scrupulously returned, and at the -same moment, acting by a common impulse, -every senator rose to his feet; this was -followed by a sound like the waves upon the -seashore, for every spectator in the galleries also -rose, moved by that spectacle of the most -high-minded of men taking upon himself the -burden of another's guilt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Senator March stopped for a moment and -glanced around the chamber in which he had -had a place for nearly fifteen years. The great -wave of sympathy and respect made itself -obvious to him. The colour rushed to his pale -face, and then as suddenly departed, leaving -him whiter than before. He walked with a -steady step towards the door and the door-keepers, -in throwing the leaves wide for him, -bowed low, a salute which Senator March -returned with formal courtesy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the silence was broken by a faint cry -and a commotion in the public gallery; it was -thought that some one, overcome by the crowd -and excitement, had fainted. Not so; it was -Alicia March who had uttered that faint cry, -but the next moment she had slipped through -the door and was making her way swiftly out -of the place. No one stopped her or even -recognised her, and she made her way to the -ground-floor entrance, where Senator March's carriage -was drawn up. She saw her husband pass out -directly in front of her. His step was still -steady and his iron composure had not deserted -him. He entered the waiting carriage, which -was driven rapidly off, and when it was out of -sight down the hill Alicia crept forth and -stepped into the shabby cab, in which the most -luxurious of women had gone, as it were, to -the place of execution.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">XII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It took half-an-hour for the decrepit cab horse -to drag the vehicle to the door of the splendid -home which was now Alicia March's alone. As -she entered she met Watson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is my husband here?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Watson raised his eyebrows in cool contempt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is on his way to his ranch in the West, -never to return. May I see you now for a few -minutes to transact some necessary business?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia without a word led the way to her own -boudoir, passing the door of her husband's -study. The desk was clear and already men -were at work packing the books which were -all that Roger March took from the noble -fittings of what had once been his home. It -was so like removing the paraphernalia of a -dead man that Alicia shuddered as she passed -the door. Seated at a table in her own rooms, -Watson passed over to her certain deeds, -papers, and a bank-book showing a large sum -of money deposited to her credit at the bank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For all of these he required Alicia's signed -receipt, which she mechanically gave, understanding -little of the details of business. When -it was over, Watson rose and took his hat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," said Alicia, dazed and distraught by -all that had passed so quickly, and helpless in -the management of affairs, "what shall I do -with these things? Will you take charge of -them? I really don't--don't understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me," answered Watson coldly, "it -is impossible for me to act further in your -affairs. If you wish any more information, -and will notify me who is your man of business, -I will consult with him at any time." And -without saying good-morning, and putting his -hat on in her presence, Watson left the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia sat stunned, but dimly conscious of the -indignity and affront put upon her. She was -of a caste accustomed to all the niceties of -respect, and she had managed to retain them until -now. She began to ask herself, if she received -such treatment from Watson, what might she -expect from the whole world? And then there -was an awful sense of loss in the mere absence -of her husband. Often during the four years -of her last marriage it had seemed to her as if -her husband was the person who put everything -out of joint. She had her establishment, her -money, her liberty, and could do as she pleased, -which was freely granted her, and life would -have been delightful, but close to her always -was this man before whom she must ever act -the part of a perfectly upright woman. It was -that which had produced the curious sense of -dislocation and bewilderment which had always -haunted her. Now that he was gone, however, -the dislocation and bewilderment seemed -greater than ever. She came of good fighting -stock, and presently she found a little of her -courage, and began to think what was best to -do in order to save herself. The first thing, -of course, was to have her father come to her. -She wrote out a long and urgent cablegram, -certain to bring General Talbott at once, and -then ringing for a servant, sent it off. There -would be time enough before General Talbott's -arrival to consider what she should tell and -what should remain unknown. Then the -thought that Sir Percy and Lady Carlyon must -surmise the truth came to her, and it was -poignant enough to make itself felt even in -those first hours of shock. She was no more -able to rid herself of the involuntary hold -which Sir Percy Carlyon had upon her than she -had been a dozen years before. With the -Carlyons, however, she had a strong card to -play in General Talbott, who would soon be -at hand. She sent for the servants and calmly -informed them that her husband, whom she -called Mr. March for the first time, would be -absent indefinitely, and that the establishment -would be kept up, and they could retain their -positions if their conduct remained good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the afternoon Colegrove's card was -brought up to her. She went down into one -of the vast, silent drawing-rooms to see him. -Colegrove was not pleased at this, and would -rather have seen her in her boudoir, but -nevertheless met her with a smile and debonair -manner. Alicia looked pale, but her manner -was quite composed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you will pardon me for saying that I -am afraid your husband has acted hastily," -said Colegrove, when they were seated, "but of -course the career of a man like that can't be -closed so suddenly. All this will blow over in -time, and five years from to-day we may see him -in the Senate again. As far as I am concerned, -I have lost a good friend, and I shall -now be hounded into retirement, if not into prison."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled as he spoke, showing his white even -teeth, and Alicia could not but admire his cool -courage in the face of what must have been to -him a catastrophe scarcely less than her own. -They were sitting in the embrasure of a -window, and their low voices were lost in the -expanse of the great room. Nevertheless -Colegrove did not consider it an ideal place to say -what he had come to say. He said it, however, -glancing through the wide-open doors to see -that no person was in hearing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"March has accused himself of what no one -believes, but has left you to bear the real -burden. That is really what his alleged confession -amounts to. I don't think that you owe him -anything. If he stays away, as you tell me -he means to, you may claim your freedom at -any time, and then perhaps you will consider -me, who would never leave you as March has -done. For my own part, I, of course, can get -a divorce any day I choose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The same strange feeling of indignation came -over Alicia which she felt when Colegrove had -once before made implication against Roger -March. Still she did not repulse him, who was -the only human being that had voluntarily -come to her that day, and she felt intuitively -that he was the only one who would continue -to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not speak of such things," she said -coldly, and rising.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Colegrove rose too. He had implanted the -notion in her mind that March, after all, had -sacrificed her, and that she was nothing to him. -A new expression came into Alicia's speaking -eyes. She looked fixedly at Colegrove and then -bent her head in reflection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I go now," said Colegrove, "to fight my -battle. I don't know how, or when, or where -it will end, but if they drag me down I will, -like Samson, drag down all I can with me, and -the crash will be heard from one end of this -continent to the other. Here is an address that -will always find me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted her passive hand to his lips, put a -card within it, and went away without another -word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia spent the intervening hours between -then and a solitary dinner walking up and down -the great drawing-rooms. She did not give -Colegrove a thought; her mind, agonised and -tormented, was working upon the problem -whether or not March, in the intensity of his -anger, had deliberately sacrificed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sense of fitness and good taste, which -had never left Alicia Vernon, remained with -Alicia March. She did not run away from -Washington, but, having determined to take up -the attitude of an injured woman, remained in -her house, but in strict seclusion. Every day -she took the air in a closed carriage, or, heavily -veiled, walked for hours. She continually met -her acquaintances, who spoke to her coolly and -passed on, and Alicia did the same. A few -persons, chiefly silly women and foolish young -men, left cards for her, but Mrs. March, -knowing that such backing was a detriment instead -of a help, was excused at the door. She had -received an immediate response from her -father, who had taken the first steamer for -America. Within a fortnight from the day -Roger March left his home General Talbott -arrived. He knew of March's resignation -from the Senate, and Alicia, in the first hour -of her father's arrival, put in his hand the -newspaper which contained the charges and -</span><em class="italics">The Congressional Record</em><span>, with March's -speech, and left him to draw his own -conclusion. General Talbott read them through -carefully, and then, taking Alicia's hand, said -to her with tears in his brave old eyes:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My child, you have been singled out for -ill-treatment, and to bear the sins of others. -March's conduct was inherently wrong, but it -showed a cruel disregard of you not to make -some show of fight for his name. Your father, -however, will remain your steadfast friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The presence of General Talbott sensibly -improved Alicia March's position in Washington. -His old friends, of whom he had many, called -to see him, and perforce left cards for -Mrs. March. Among them was the card of Sir -Percy Carlyon, but no card was left for Alicia, -nor did Lady Carlyon's card accompany her -husband's. Alicia observed this, but she did -not choose to notice it openly at present. She -meant that considerable time should pass -before she began an active struggle to regain her -lost position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Early in May the great house was shut up -and Alicia March and her father sailed for -England. It was two years and a half before -she reappeared in Washington. During that -interval no one in Washington heard of March, -except Watson, who received occasional -communications from him on business. He seemed -to have dropped out of the world; the depths of -the Sierras is a very good hiding-place for a -broken-hearted man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those two years and a half seemed to be -unclouded for the Carlyons. Sir Percy found his -mission exactly to his liking, and his prestige -was steadily increased by his management of -affairs. It even met with the approval of Lord -Baudesert, who found himself unable to keep -away from his beloved Washington. Mrs. Chantrey, -whose hopes of being an Ambassadress -had been dashed by Lord Baudesert's -retirement, still cherished dreams of being Lady -Baudesert, and was warmly encouraged in her -aspirations by that wicked old gentleman -during his whole visit to Washington. Eleanor -Chantrey had remained unmarried. Her beauty -and her fortune would have enabled her to -make a choice of many brilliant marriages, but -deep in her heart rankled something like -disappointment. She had not been in love with -Sir Percy Carlyon, but she would have married -him if he had asked her, an attitude of mind -commoner among women towards men than is -generally supposed. Eleanor was certainly -fitted to be an Ambassadress, but Lady Carlyon -had fitted herself with consummate address for -that lofty position. Lord Baudesert was openly -delighted at the position which Lady Carlyon -had made for herself. Her dignity, her -sweetness and good sense had given her also a -prestige which made her backing of the greatest -value. Every woman in Washington society -whose social and personal record was not like -the driven snow was eager for the support of -Lady Carlyon. With natural good judgment -and acquired prudence Lady Lucy, as Lord -Baudesert, like Sir Percy, called her, managed -to escape every pitfall. She could neither be -used, nor worked, wheedled, nor bullied, but -pursued a course inspired alike by good taste -and good feeling. Her two boys increased day -by day in beauty and intelligence, and Sir Percy -would have reckoned himself among the happiest -as well as the most successful of men but -for the memory of Alicia March. He was -haunted by the thought, not without reason, -that he was responsible for the tragedy which -had befallen Roger March. He could readily -imagine the motive which inspired March, and -the thought of him dragged down by his wife's -dishonour, seeking oblivion in the farthest -corner of the continent, was a keen and -ever-present regret to Sir Percy Carlyon. He had -heard occasionally from General Talbott, who -was abroad with his daughter. The great -March house remained closed but tenantless, -and Sir Percy surmised that Alicia March -would in time return to the scene of her -greatest triumphs and her deepest humiliation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The echoes of the great railway scandal lasted -during all of these two years and a half. -Colegrove was not the man to go down without a -terrific struggle. March's acknowledgment of -the charges and his resignation would have -been too strong for any except the strongest of -men to withstand, but Colegrove, finding -himself with his back to the wall, fought with a -desperation worthy of a better cause. He had -the money, the courage and the adroitness to -drag everything into the courts, where the -law's delay was a great help to him. So many -powerful interests were involved that they -made a bulwark around him. At the end of -the two years and a half he was actually in -much better case than he had been when he had -first been pinned to the wall by his enemies, and -his supply of ammunition had been increased. -He had succeeded, by pouring out money like -water, in enmeshing everybody and everything -in a legal tangle from which no one could see -a way out. His natural genius for making -money was such that he could always contrive -to make vast sums, and the wonder was, as -with a clever pickpocket, why he did not satisfy -himself with the brilliant success he could have -made legitimately. Every two or three months -during that time he communicated with Alicia -March. He had an apparent reason for doing -so, as he represented that the stocks held for -her in his name were always earning dividends, -and every letter contained a cheque. One of -these letters informed her that his wife had got -a divorce from him. The poor lady had in -truth been goaded into it. Alicia March made -no reference to this in the brief replies she -sent to his letters.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">XIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One afternoon in December, nearly three -years after Mrs. March had left Washington, -Lady Carlyon was driving through the fashionable -street in which the March house was situated. -Lord Baudesert, who was on his annual -visit to Washington, was in the carriage with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, my Lady Lucy!" he said; "Mrs. March -has come back, like another Joan of Arc, to -defy her enemies. By Jupiter! that woman is -as brave as Hector and Lord Nelson rolled in -one. I have heard some pretty stories about her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of these stories related to Lady -Carlyon's husband, but Lord Baudesert gave -no hint of this. Lady Carlyon glanced out of -the carriage window and saw that the splendid -March house was occupied. A handsome -carriage, with a pink and white footman and -coachman to match exactly, was standing -before the door, and at that moment Alicia -March, accompanied by General Talbott, came -out and entered the carriage. Lady Carlyon, -whose eyes were quick, got a brief but complete -view of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She seems quite unchanged," said Lady -Carlyon to Lord Baudesert, "and doesn't look -a day older than when she left Washington."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How keen you women are about this thing -of looks," replied Lord Baudesert, his black -eyes twinkling under his beetling brows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is you who make us value our youth and -looks so much," said Lady Carlyon in response, -smiling and composed, though all the while her -heart was beating with pain--pain for herself -and for her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. March, I see, has brought Talbott with -her, and Talbott's backing, I take it, is worth -that of ten ordinary men with pistols in their -pockets," was Lord Baudesert's next remark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy can never forget his obligations -to General Talbott," replied Lady Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Alicia March won't let him forget them -if he would." Then, catching sight of -Mrs. Chantrey taking her constitutional, Lord -Baudesert halted the carriage, scrambled out, and -was soon promenading up and down Connecticut -Avenue with that eternally hopeful lady, to -her undisguised rapture. She lamented to Lord -Baudesert Eleanor's hardness of heart toward -the other sex, and Lord Baudesert was lauding -the unexpected good sense of the three Vereker -girls, each one of whom had married a curate, -and could not expect to do any better.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon, when she reached home, and -was alone with her husband, told him of the -new arrivals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must prepare to meet them," she said -resolutely, "and even to have them to dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy sighed heavily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have I not brought upon you, my poor -child?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing I cannot bear," responded Lady Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three days afterwards the expected happened--Alicia -March and General Talbott called at -the British Embassy. They came at an hour -when they were sure to find the Carlyons at -home. As Lady Carlyon had said, Mrs. March -gave no outward sign of the stress and storm -through which she must have passed. She and -Lady Carlyon met and talked as do two women -of the world who mutually hate and distrust -each other, but who expect to meet at dinner. -Mrs. March spoke pleasantly of her travels -with her father. They had spent two winters -in Egypt, and their summers cruising on the -Dalmatian coast, but, after all, she said, -Washington was the most agreeable place of all the -winter resorts she had ever known, and she -had determined to pass her winters there -hereafter. She did not tell Lady Carlyon of the -strange desire she felt to get back to the same -orbit in which Sir Percy moved, nor of the -equally strange inability she had to forget her -husband. She had every reason to remain -abroad, where the catastrophe of her Washington -life was little known, and where the prestige -of her father's name was greater and more -general, but that strange instinct which makes -a murderer return to the scene of his crime -will always make a woman like Alicia March -return to the scene of her adventures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon said to the General what she -could not very well avoid saying, that she -hoped he would soon come to dine with them, -but named no date. It required all Sir Percy's -self-control to prevent General Talbott from -seeing how unwelcome his daughter was at the -British Embassy. Nevertheless, this was -accomplished, and after a longish visit General -Talbott went away feeling that in Sir Percy -and Lady Carlyon his poor Alicia had two -staunch friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was, however, no escape for the -Carlyons for the dinner invitation to Alicia -March with General Talbott, and a few days -afterwards it was despatched and promptly -accepted. Mrs. March's presence at the British -Embassy did much to re-establish her, for there -were many persons, especially in public life, -who surmised the truth, and that Roger March -was simply lying like a gentleman when he took -the blame upon himself. The smart set, -however, does not always keep labels on public men -and things, and besides its members have short -memories. Roger March's name was never -mentioned by his wife or in her presence; Alicia -March took up the attitude of an injured woman -who bears in silence the defection of her -husband; therefore, by the exercise of tact, -courage and industry, knowing where to leave cards -and where not, she found herself steadily -regaining her former position in Washington -society. When it was getting on best, however, -it was suddenly retarded by the appearance of -Colegrove, and his frequent visits to -Mrs. March. Alicia knew the world too well not -to understand the risk of any association with -Colegrove. But Colegrove, himself, had -impressed upon her at his first visit that she must -assume the attitude of a perfectly innocent -woman and not decline his visits. He had in -him such power of coercing her that Alicia -accepted his views, as most others did when -brought into contact with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia never saw him alone--she always had -her father to act as sheepdog. When General -Talbott was not at home Colegrove was always -informed that Mrs. March asked to be excused. -Colegrove took his rebuffs coolly, and -continued to call during the visiting hours when -he was likely to be seen at Mrs. March's door. -He was in the act of pulling the bell on the -day when Lady Carlyon called to leave cards -on Mrs. March. Twice afterwards in the same -week Lady Carlyon saw Colegrove evidently -coming from Mrs. March's house, and she -spoke of it to Sir Percy. The very next day -came a dinner invitation from Alicia March -asking Lady Carlyon to name an evening when -she and Sir Percy could dine with Mrs. March -and General Talbott. Sir Percy ground his -teeth when Lady Carlyon was writing a -conventional note of acceptance, naming a date -some weeks ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The week before the dinner a note came from -Lady Carlyon saying that Sir Percy and -herself were asked to the White House to meet -a distinguished Englishman visiting the United -States, and must, therefore, ask to be excused -from Mrs. March's dinner. Alicia replied with -an equally conventional note. A fortnight later -she called at the Embassy, and with her -sweetest voice and manner asked Lady Carlyon to -name another date for dining with her. Again -Lady Carlyon named a date. The morning of -the dinner Sir Percy went into his wife's -boudoir, and after standing silent for a while -with an angry and sombre face, said to her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't have you dining with Alicia March. -I always hated it, and I find that man -Colegrove is at her house a great deal. You must -have a headache, cold or something by which -you can excuse yourself. I will go; I am not -better than Alicia March, but you are ten -thousand times better than she."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Usually Lady Carlyon could reason with her -husband, but on this occasion he was quite -intractable. Lady Carlyon therefore wrote a -note of excuse and secluded herself for the day, -alleging illness. Sir Percy went to the dinner, -and found an odd conglomeration of guests, -very much like that collected by the rich man -in the Bible for his son's wedding. Alicia was -perfectly conscious of the collection she had -made, but bore herself with her usual dignity -and outward composure. Even General -Talbott, who had felt a secret uneasiness -concerning Alicia's reception in Washington, was -conscious that her dinner guests were of a -somewhat mixed variety, and hinted as much to her -the next day. He even mentioned that Colegrove's -visits to the house might be misunderstood. -Alicia was of the same opinion. Colegrove -still possessed for her the interest a -woman feels for a man who is deeply interested -in her, and, besides, Colegrove was the only -man she had ever known who understood her -inability to make any income she might have -meet her expenses. He never scolded her, but -seemed to think her continual want of money -an amiable weakness. Nevertheless Alicia, -growing frightened at the changing attitude of -society toward her, wrote a note to Colegrove -imploring him not to come again to see her. -In reply, Colegrove called to ask for an -explanation. He caught Alicia just as she was -entering the house. Without waiting for an -invitation, he walked into the great drawing-room, -where their last private interview had -occurred, nearly three years before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," said Alicia, when they were out -of hearing, though not out of sight, "you are -trying to compromise me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All is fair in love," replied Colegrove calmly; -"you had better let me come openly, and ask -me to dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia would make no promise, but when she -was alone in her boudoir she reflected upon -the strangeness of the American character. -Two Americans loved her; one had made a -stupendous sacrifice for her, and the other was -pursuing her with an ingenuity of persistence, -a handiness of resource, which was new and -puzzling to her English mind. And then as -women do who know how to think, she began -to consider with a kind of sad wonder why she -could not emancipate herself from the -influence of Colegrove, and from that of Sir Percy -Carlyon, and, what was strangest of all, from -the memory of Roger March, and did not -realise that men only have the art of forgetting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No woman, alas! forgets," she thought to -herself, and, rising, went to her husband's -rooms, and, closing the door after her, she -walked about them aimlessly. Roger March -had done her a fearful injury; such quixotism -as his could benefit no one. She felt a deep -resentment against him, but that was far from -forgetting him. In the four years and a half -of her life with Roger March there had been -a continual sense of discomfort; his -personality, agreeable though it was, seemed -perpetually at war with her secret self. She had -taken him as the necessary adjunct of his -fortune, and she should have been glad to get -rid of him, if only she could forget him. But -she found herself continually thinking about -him, wondering what kind of existence he led, -and if he ever felt any regret as to what he -had done. She had thought herself the -coolest-headed and best-balanced of women, but she -seemed, as she grew older, to be losing rather -than gaining her self-possession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things had come to such a pass by the end -of the season that Alicia was slipping back -socially. One thing which she felt necessary -for her to do, if she was to remain in -Washington, was to have Lady Carlyon seen at her -house. She could not for ever go on giving -invitations which were cleverly evaded. The -only thing was to seek Lady Carlyon and bring -the matter to an issue. To do this it would be -necessary to take Lady Carlyon unawares, for -she would certainly excuse herself if -Mrs. March called at the Embassy at an unusual -time, and there would be no chance for her if -she went at the customary visiting hour. Alicia -therefore watched for her opportunity and -determined to seize it anywhere and at any time. -It came most unexpectedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One night she and General Talbott were at -the theatre, and when the first act of the play -was half over Sir Percy and Lady Carlyon -appeared in an upper box alone. Sir Percy, -after seating his wife comfortably, said a few -words and went out, carrying his hat and -great-coat. Lady Carlyon, sitting far back in -the box, watched the play and was quite -unobserved by any one in the audience except Alicia -March. When General Talbott went out of -the theatre after the curtain came down on the -first act, Alicia, seeing the way clear before her, -climbed the narrow stairs to the box and walked -in on Lady Carlyon. Never did Lady Carlyon -have a more unwelcome guest, or one with -whom she less desired a private conversation. -She greeted Alicia politely, however, -and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy will return in a little while. He -had an appointment for half-an-hour this -evening, and brought me to the play to await him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very glad," replied Alicia in her sweetest -voice, "that he is absent, because I wish -to ask you a question of the most private nature."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she took a chair, and the two women, -each perfect mistress of herself, began the -duello. "It is," continued Alicia softly, -"whether you have any real objection to -entering my house?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon remained silent, and after a -minute Alicia March spoke again:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see you have; I may as well speak frankly. -As an Englishwoman, and strangely situated -as I am, I can't expect any recognition if the -British Ambassador, who is supposed to be one -of my oldest acquaintances, and certainly my -father's greatest friend, refuses to allow his -wife, or his wife refuses, to come to my house. -It is not much to ask."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy feels that it is a great deal to ask," -replied Lady Carlyon, a faint colour appearing -in her usually pale cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their voices were so low that not a person, -even those in the next box, could make out what -they were saying. All over the theatre was the -buzz of conversation, and the brilliant lights -penetrated even the dim interior of the upper box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy, then," said Alicia after a pause, -"has told you all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon inclined her head silently, her -eyes lighting up with anger as she looked -resolutely in Alicia March's calm face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him from me, please," Alicia continued -after a pause, while the two women steadily -eyed each other, "that he may take his choice, -either of sending you to my house or having -that early story between us made known to -certain persons in power. You know these -Americans are a prudish people, and, ridiculous -as it may seem, the fact of the relations -between your husband and myself in our youth -being made known, and the fact that he has -been at my house and I have been to yours, -would cause an intimation to him that he had -better leave Washington. You may tell Sir -Percy, also, that your absence from my house -is perplexing and troubling to my father, and -for that reason, if for no other, I mean that -you shall come to my house, or Sir Percy's -diplomatic career in Washington will be ended."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Percy is not a man to yield to threats," -replied Sir Percy's wife. By this time her -cheeks were crimson, but her voice was still -composed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These are not threats, but promises. I grant -you I could not do this except in Washington. -I should be laughed at anywhere in Europe if -I attempted to make known certain facts about -Sir Percy's early life, and I could not do him -the slightest harm, but you see these people are -very different. Ambassadors have been quietly -notified, before this, that their presence was -not acceptable. The public are not taken into -the confidence of the people in power, -nevertheless Ambassadors are ruined. There will not -be a public scandal; if there were my father -would know it, and I believe that he would -shoot himself. All that I promise will be done -very quietly, but it will be done, if you and Sir -Percy continue obstinate. I shall be at home -all day to-morrow and shall expect Sir Percy -to call to see me. Good-evening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She rose and left the box, and as she passed -through the narrow lobby outside she came -face to face with Sir Percy Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have just had an interview with Lady -Carlyon," said Alicia March composedly, "and -I shall expect to see you at my house some -time to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy bowed in silence without showing -the least surprise, and stepped into the box. -Lady Carlyon had taken a chair well at the -front of the box, and with her slender, shapely -arm resting upon the ledge, was in full view of -the house. Her face was quite calm, but a -deep flush upon her usually pale cheeks showed -Sir Percy that the interview between her and -Alicia March had been of an unusual nature. -Obeying an indication from his wife, Sir Percy -sat also in full view of the audience and of -Alicia March, once more among the audience. -She had reached her seat before General -Talbott's return, and he had no idea that she had -left it during his absence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, my love!" he said, "there are the -Carlyons. Lady Carlyon is looking remarkably -handsome and animated to-night. I think -I will go and speak with them during the next -interval."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia smiled, but said nothing. It would be -an added torment to the Carlyons to have -General Talbott with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the curtain came down for the second -time General Talbott, as good as his word, went -to the Carlyons' box. Alicia, from below, saw -him cordially received, and Lady Carlyon, all -smiles and composure, talking with him. He -left the box just before the curtain went up, -and when the Carlyons were alone Sir Percy -said to his wife:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like to leave the theatre now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By no means," answered Lady Carlyon -promptly; "we will remain through the play, -and you must wait until then to know what -has happened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a brave creature, my Lady Lucy," -responded her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Carlyons were among the last people to -leave the theatre, and when they were in their -carriage Lady Carlyon told her husband what -had happened. He heard it in silence and made -no comment. Later, when they had reached -home and were alone, Lady Carlyon would -have spoken of it again, but Sir Percy stopped her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not any more to-night," he said; "to-morrow -will be time enough."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">XIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, although it was the beginning -of spring, the snow was falling, and a biting -northeast wind made the day look like one in -December. Lady Carlyon was sitting in her -morning-room with her two beautiful children -at her knees when Sir Percy entered about -twelve o'clock. Nothing is so beautiful and -interesting as a young mother with her -children, and Sir Percy, standing on the -hearth-rug, paid his wife the tribute of admiration. -She played with the children and danced about -the room with them as if she were a child -herself. Sir Percy was not surprised at her -cheerfulness; he had ever found in her that -admirable quality of courage and gaiety of heart in -the presence of danger which is half the battle. -It is commonly observed that this presence of -danger produces in brave men a quickening of -the intellect as well as an exhilaration of -spirits, and it is equally true of brave women. -Lady Carlyon was singularly fearless; her -pride was up in arms. Alicia March had made -claim to some part and lot in Sir Percy -Carlyon's life, a claim which Lady Carlyon -treated with fine scorn, and Alicia March had -made threats and had assumed the power of -disposing of Sir Percy Carlyon's career. This -aroused in Lady Carlyon the spirit of defiance. -These things brought smiles to her face, a new -light to her eyes, and a haughtier carriage to -her delicate head. Sir Percy knew well these -signs. Presently, however, the children were -sent away and the husband and wife were alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going now to see Mrs. March," said -Sir Percy coolly; "I think I may as well give -up the fight. Alicia March is not the woman -to make idle threats, and she can do precisely -what she says she can. Besides, General -Talbott has to be considered. It will be difficult -to keep such an affair from him, and he is one -of these mediæval men, something like March -himself, of whom no one can predict anything -when a question of his own or his daughter's -honour is involved. I can quietly resign and -go away. We shall have enough to live upon -modestly, and in some quiet corner of England -we can forget Alicia March, and live for each -other and our children. It is a downfall for -you, my Lady Lucy, and I am the one who has -brought it upon you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon went up to him, laying her hand -on his arm, and said with sparkling eyes:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give up the fight, do you mean, and let -Mrs. March drive you from your position?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing else to be done," replied -Sir Percy quietly. "Think for a moment; I -can't make a fight without making it public. If -I were alone I shouldn't care for the publicity, -but you--not for twenty ambassadorships -would I bring you into anything like this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Carlyon dropped her head upon his -shoulder and burst into tears, which wrung his -heart, but did not change his resolution. -Half-an-hour afterwards he was ushered into -Mrs. March's boudoir, where Alicia waited for him. -Sir Percy refused the chair which she offered -him and remained standing, hat in hand. Alicia -March felt a sense of triumph which glowed -in her eyes; Sir Percy had wearied of her and -had scorned her, but in the end, when he had -reached the height of his ambition, she had -brought him to heel roundly after nearly -nineteen years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Carlyon gave me your message," he -said, when the first cool greetings were -exchanged. "You are quite able to do all that -you have threatened. If I were alone I should -make a fight, but for Lady Carlyon's sake I -am willing to surrender. I shall require a few -weeks to arrange matters and to give the Home -Government a chance to appoint my successor, -and then I shall leave the diplomatic service. -That, I think, should satisfy you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia March remained silent, looking down. -This then was her triumph! It was not really -what she wanted. She had desired the greater -triumph of having her way with Lady Carlyon. -After a moment or two she spoke:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a small thing for which you are giving -up your diplomatic career--let me see, you are -not forty-five. I ask only that your wife come -to my house once in a season."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To this Sir Percy, with a cool smile, made -answer:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would prefer to give up the -ambassadorship and retire from the diplomatic service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His contempt for her pierced Alicia March's -soul, yet she began to have a dim apprehension -of the nature of such men as Sir Percy Carlyon -and Roger March, who could not be moved -from the point of honour. Then, as there was -nothing more to say, Sir Percy Carlyon bowed -and left the room. He had not been in the -house five minutes all told.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia drew her chair up to the fireside and -watched the scurrying snow and listened to -the wind clattering wildly under the eaves. She -did not know whether to feel herself victor or -vanquished. The time was, only a few years -ago, when she would have glowed with the -beauty and completeness of her revenge--all -women are revengeful, but it is in general an -unsated passion. Like most things ardently -desired and long delayed, her triumph over Sir -Percy Carlyon had lost its savour. She would -be no better off if the Carlyons left Washington, -and she felt tolerably sure that the next -Ambassadress would be as equally obdurate -towards her as was Lady Carlyon. Alicia -March sighed and looked out of the window, -where the fierce blasts tortured the budding -trees, and the tender young grass shivered -tinder the cruel sleet and snow. Alicia had felt -herself strange in the position of an -honourable, honoured woman, which Roger March -had given her, but she felt more strange and -forlorn when suddenly cast down into the abyss -from which she had been raised. Pursued by -intolerable loneliness, she returned to her own -room, only to find herself more lonely still. -While she sat in aimless reverie a letter in -Colegrove's handwriting was brought into her. -She looked at it with faint interest, but it lay -in her lap unopened for half-an-hour; then she -broke the seal and read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I have just heard that Roger March has been -mortally ill for months, and is probably dead -by this time. I must see you soon."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>An hour later the same footman who had -brought the note came to announce luncheon. -Alicia was sitting in the same position, her -eyes fixed upon the open letter. A strange -leaven had been at work in her mind; an -overwhelming desire to see and be with Roger -March. Suddenly Sir Percy Carlyon and -Colegrove had become insignificant to her; even her -father was, for once, forgotten. She rose and -went downstairs, trying to shake from her this -new and strange obsession. What insanity -would it be for her to go to Roger March! -Almost every penny she had in the world, her -house, her carriages, nine-tenths of her income, -would be forfeited by the least attempt to see -or communicate with her husband. General -Talbott was awaiting her, and together they -sat down in the gorgeous dining-room to the -small round table which they commonly used -when alone. General Talbott noticed nothing -out of the usual in his daughter except that -she was rather silent and ate nothing. Alicia -herself scarcely recognised her own mind and -heart and soul engaged in a conflict with her -own closest and greatest interests. When -luncheon was over, General Talbott said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This wintry weather will keep me indoors for -the afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To which Alicia replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I, too, shall remain at home and shall not -see any visitors."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went up to her boudoir, fighting at every -step the impulse within her to take the first -train for the Northwest. As a bar to her -leaving the house, she rang for her maid and put -on a </span><em class="italics">négligée</em><span> robe and slippers, and lying down -among the pillows of a luxurious sofa, drawn -up to the fire, shut her eyes and tried to sleep. -It was in vain. Before her came the vision of -her husband, "mortally ill," as Colegrove had -said. She had never seen Roger March ill in -her life, but she had a prophetic vision of how -he looked, pale and grey, with a gentle stoicism, -a stern patience, and he was alone in an adobe -hut among the far-off hills of the Northwest. -If she went to him he would no doubt repulse -her. She repeated this to herself resolutely, -and in the act of repeating it rose and dressed -herself, without the assistance of her maid, in -a travelling dress, and put a few things in a -travelling case. Two voices, each trying to -drown the other, shrieked within her, the one -representing the madness of going to Roger -March, and the other dragging her against -her will. She rang for her carriage and then, -sitting at her desk, wrote a few lines to her father:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I have heard that my husband is fatally ill. -I am going to him, although I lose most of what -I have by it."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>She rang for a footman, gave him the note, -and directed him not to give it to General -Talbott unless she should not return in time for -dinner. The footman, wondering, carried the -travelling bag down and put it in the carriage. -Alicia, as all human beings do when leaving -their habitat for the last time, walked through -the rooms which, up to that time, had been hers. -They were exquisite in their beauty, luxury and -comfort. In her bedroom she looked about her, -saying to herself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What madness is mine to jeopardise all of -this, or rather to sacrifice it! I remember so -well how he looked when he told me that if I -ever attempted to see him I would sacrifice -everything but a bare living, and he is a man -of his word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even as these thoughts went through her -mind her feet bore her unwillingly towards the -door. As she entered her boudoir she came -face to face with Colegrove.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't blame the flunkey," he said; "he tried -to stop me, but I walked past him, and he knew -perfectly well that if he had laid a finger on -me I would knock him down. I saw your -carriage at the door with luggage on it. Where -are you going?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To my husband," replied Alicia in a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia had expected a strong protest, even -that Colegrove would seek to restrain her, but, -on the contrary, he looked at her with a smile -in his keen eyes and said, as if answering a -question:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I have nothing to say against your -going. If Roger March is living you will lose -every penny you have except a paltry thousand -or so a year; then what I can offer you will -probably bring you to my arms. Men who -don't know me think I am greedy for money. -So I am, but only to buy with it things more -precious than money. But I would be glad to -see you sacrifice all the money that Roger -March gave you if it would bring you to me -with nothing but the clothes on your back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia had listened to him at first with a -preoccupied air, but when his meaning dawned -upon her she turned towards him with a look -which implied that gratitude and respect for a -man which every woman feels when he is ready -to sacrifice money for love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you see," he continued in the same cool, -unmoved voice, "I sha'n't stop you; but I think, -from what I hear, that you won't find Roger -March alive. Then remember I have a claim -on you, and it sha'n't grow rusty for want of -urging. If you are ever my wife you needn't -be afraid of telling me of your debts, as you -were afraid to tell Roger March and General -Talbott. I can live on five thousand a year, and -the rest of what I have is for you to spend, and -when that is spent I can make more. May I -see you to your carriage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia, like a sleep-walker, passed down the -stairs with him. The thought occurred to her -that Colegrove's passion for her was like her -own early infatuation for Sir Percy Carlyon, a -thing which, rightly directed, might have -reached the sublimest height of self-abnegation. -But in the unfamiliar mood which possessed -her, body and soul, neither Colegrove -nor Sir Percy Carlyon seemed to matter. Her -mind reverted to Roger March and remained -concentrated upon him. When she was in the -carriage Colegrove held out his hand and -clasped Alicia's. She looked at him with -strange and puzzled eyes. If only he had tried -to keep her back; but, instead, he was rather -urging her on upon the new path she was now -treading. The footman asked where she would -be driven, and Alicia replied mechanically:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To the railway station."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a little while, however, she remembered -that she had not even an idea of Roger -March's address, and changing the order, she -directed the coachman to take her to Watson's -offices. On the way she was saying to herself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a dream; it is not possible that I -should really go to my husband; I will turn -back at the station or somewhere upon the long -journey. This strange spirit will cease to -trouble me; I shall be myself again and will -return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Watson's offices were in a building not far -from the railway station. When Alicia March -alighted from her carriage and went into his -rooms, the clerk, a soft-spoken young man, -informed her that Mr. Watson was out, but was -expected to return at any moment. Alicia sat -down in the comfortable and well-furnished -inner room, the walls covered with books, and -everything bespeaking the successful and -methodical man of business. She began to -consider that Watson after all might refuse to -give her Roger March's address. At that -moment her eye fell upon the table, where lay -Watson's address-book; in half-a-minute she -had found Roger March's address. She had -no need to copy it--she could not have -forgotten it if she had tried. Then going back into -the ante-room she said politely to the clerk:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I need not trouble Mr. Watson after -all. Good-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she was in her carriage she looked at -her watch. There was a train for the West -leaving within the hour. She drove to the -station, dismissed her carriage, then, buying her -ticket, sat down to wait, feeling that she had -consummated the act of madness. She -wondered what General Talbott would think of her, -whether she went or whether she stayed. No -thought of Sir Percy Carlyon or Colegrove -entered her mind. When the train was called -she found a porter to carry her bag and walked -through the gate. Then the habit of a lifetime -made one last desperate effort; she walked back -through another gate and called a cab, firmly -resolving to go home. She got as far as the -door of the station, and then, glancing at the -clock, saw that there was still one minute -before the train left. She turned and ran the -length of the station through the gate towards -the train, which was just about to move. The -conductor, seeing her running towards it, -caught her deftly by the arm and put her -aboard, stepping after her himself. The porter -found her a seat, and Alicia sank into it -breathless and bewildered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may yet turn back," she said to herself. -"It is impossible that this impulse will hold out -long enough for me to reach my husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At eight o'clock that evening, as General -Talbott was leaving his room for dinner, the -footman put Alicia's note into his hands. He was -an old man and things shook him as they had -not done in the days when Sir Percy Carlyon -thought him the most resolute of men. -Nevertheless he maintained enough composure to say -coolly to the servant:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your mistress has been suddenly called out -of town, and may be absent a week or two." Then -he went down to dinner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When it was over, he did what an Englishman -regards as an act of emergency--went out -for an evening visit. He rang the bell of the -British Embassy, asked to see Sir Percy -Carlyon, and was shown into the library. -When his card was handed to Sir Percy, who -was taking his coffee with Lady Carlyon in -the drawing-room, he said to her, growing a -little pale:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is General Talbott; it would be best for -me to see him alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They both thought that this meant another -step in Alicia March's programme to ruin Sir -Percy Carlyon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy went into the library, and as soon -as he had shaken hands General Talbott silently -handed him Alicia's note. Sir Percy studied -it attentively. He knew Alicia quite as well -as she knew herself, and was as much -astounded as she was at her action. Likewise he -was incredulous that she should carry it -through.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is four or five days' journey to the region -where Roger March is," said Sir Percy to -General Talbott, "and Mrs. March may change her -mind in the meantime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied General Talbott, "but did you -ever notice the strange appeal which bodily -suffering makes to a woman? Anything on -earth might have happened to March, and my -daughter perhaps would have felt no inclination -to rejoin him; but for him to be ill, suffering, -dying, that was too much for her tender heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy remained silent; he, too, had often, -noticed that few women can shut their ears -to the cry of bodily pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very perplexing," was all he could say, -handing the note back to General Talbott.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid, my dear fellow," said General -Talbott, smiling a little, "that I am growing -old, for I felt so agitated and disturbed when -I got this note that I was compelled to seek a -friend's companionship. I will not say -counsel, for there is nothing to do in the matter. -There are circumstances connected with this of -a strictly private nature, which I do not feel at -liberty to mention, so I can scarcely ask for -advice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can, however, be perfectly sure of my -sympathy, and if I can be of any assistance to -you, at any moment, I think you will allow me -the privilege. Come into the drawing-room -now with me and see Lady Carlyon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please excuse me," answered General Talbott. -"I scarcely feel equal to seeing any one -but yourself this evening," for the recollection -came to him that Lady Carlyon had not been -over friendly to his poor Alicia, and it gave his -honest old heart another pang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sir Percy kept him for half-an-hour, then -walked back with him through the silent -streets. A thin mantle of snow was dissolving -in a ghostly white mist, which rose toward a -pallid night sky in which a haggard moon -shone dimly. Sir Percy left General Talbott -at his own door and returned to the Embassy. -Lady Carlyon was still in the drawing-room, -and when he entered and told her what had -happened she remained silent and thoughtful. -Presently she said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps there is a regeneration for Mrs. March."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is not in the nature of men to believe in -the reform of women, and Sir Percy said so, -but Lady Carlyon answered him with the old -feminine plea:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her husband is ill, is suffering; she cannot -remain away from him: she is a woman and not -a monster."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">XV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The early spring in the Sierras is still winter. -The great masses of snow yield only to the -burning sun of summer, and the air is as sharp -as a dagger so long as the snow lasts. Black -cliffs, stern precipices and crevices holding cold -and darkness bar out the spring and turn a -stony face towards her caresses. So thought -Alicia March, as in the wintry dusk she -alighted from the train at the lonely mountain -station. All around her was desolation. The -dusk was at hand, but on the far-off horizon a -pale green light still glowed upon the distant -peaks. Below her lay the valleys, dark, sombre -and mysterious, with here and there a light -from some small homestead showing in the -twilight, and a waving line of sheep, huddling -together as they were driven towards the great -sheepfold. The only house in sight upon the -mountain side was an adobe hut upon a little -plateau. It was surrounded by melancholy -cedars and dark and bare-limbed ilex-trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you tell me," she said, going up to the -station-master in his little box of an office, -"where Mr. Roger March lives?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The station-master, a phlegmatic person in -buckskin clothes, answered her by jerking his -thumb over his shoulder towards the open door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's his house," he said--"over there on -the hill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes fell upon Alicia, and his dull mind, -as little subject to curiosity as interest, was -suddenly moved. The expression of longing -despair in her eyes penetrated him a little. He -then surmised the question that Alicia would -have asked but could not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. March is living, but in a pretty bad way, -so my wife says; he is a heap better than we -ever thought he would be. My wife goes there -every day or two to look after him. He was -mighty good to us when our shack was burnt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia, without another word, went out and -followed the rude path which led to the little -adobe house. The station-master made no -comment; he was accustomed to strange -meetings and partings in his remote world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The night had fallen when Alicia found -herself outside the 'door of the rude little house -where Roger March had hidden his broken -heart. Long ago the voice of protest within -Alicia had been silenced. She would have -fought and struggled to have gone to her -husband. She stood trembling in the dusk outside, -afraid to raise the latch. Close to her was an -uncurtained window, through which the light -of a fire gleamed. She stole towards the -window and, looking in, saw Roger March for the -first time since he had repudiated her. He sat -in a rough wooden chair, drawn up to the wide, -low fireplace; his face was white like that of a -dead man, and his shrunken figure was almost -lost in his clothes. His eyes alone appeared -to have life in them as he gazed steadily at the -fire. Sadness, hopelessness and humiliation -were in his gaze, but he was still sentient, -living, breathing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first thought that occurred to Alicia was -that he yet had strength enough left to repulse -her. The evening had grown sharper, and she -stood so long outside the door that the cold -penetrated to the very marrow of her bones, -and it was this, at last, which gave her the -courage to raise the latch and enter. She opened -the door of the room in which Roger March -sat and then closed it softly behind her, and -going towards her husband, stopped on the -other side of the fireplace some distance from -him. March raised his eyes and started and -shuddered violently when his glance fell upon -Alicia, almost as pale as himself, shivering with -cold and agitation and involuntarily drawing -near the blazing fire. He attempted to rise -from his chair, but fell back, unequal to the -effort. As his head rested against the back -of his chair, Alicia, with downcast head, yet -saw the marks of illness and age and grief in -him, and it brought a pang to her heart such -as she had never felt before in her life. Her -apparition, so strange and unexpected, agitated -March more than he could bear. Alicia did not -speak for some minutes, and then she said in -the low, delicious voice which had not lost its -charm for the man who once adored her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I came because I couldn't help it. I heard -that you were ill. I know you hate me, and I -knew that I would lose all I had if I came, but -something stronger than myself brought me. I -don't excuse what I have done, but--but I could -not keep away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>March's pallid lips formed one word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Colegrove?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alicia answered in the same quiet, despairing voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He told me of your illness and reminded me -that if I tried to see you I would lose -everything, but I scarcely heard what he was saying. -I could not keep away. He overtook me on the -journey yesterday morning and wished to make -me promise if I found you dead that I would -marry him--he is divorced. I felt such rage -against him--" She stopped and raised her -hands and clenched them with a gesture which -implied a hatred of Colegrove greater than -any words could convey. "I never was worthy -of you, but perhaps if it had not been for -Nicholas Colegrove I should not have wrecked -and ruined you as I have done, so it is only just -that I should be wrecked and ruined, too." Then -she came nearer to him and suddenly -burst into sobs and, clasping her hands, cried: -"Let me stay--let me stay, if only for this one -night. It is so cold outside, and I know not -where to go. I never wronged you with -Nicholas Colegrove except about money. Let me -stay! Would you drive me out like a houseless dog?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had not yet ventured near enough to her -husband to touch him. March put his thin -hands over his face, his features were -convulsed, but he said no word. Then Alicia, -laying her hand on the arm of his chair, cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You haven't told me to go away. You can't -do it. I will go after a while, when you are -well, but even if you send me away I sha'n't -go very far, and something will always drag me -back to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>March remained silent. The wind outside -steadily rose and howled wolfishly around the -little house. An ilex-tree, which overhung the -roof, was beating fiercely upon it, and its -strong branches tore at the little house like the -claws of a wild beast seeking to destroy it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No, he could not turn her out like a houseless dog!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Alicia, kneeling by his chair, begged and -prayed him to let her stay. March remained -silent as much from weakness as from the -tumult in his soul. The wind grew fiercer and -the night wilder. At last Alicia's hand timidly -sought her husband's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you tell me to go, I will go," she -whispered between her sobs, but he could not tell -her to go.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A year later, on a beautiful spring afternoon, -Sir Percy and Lady Carlyon were walking -together through the park at Washington. -Never had Lady Carlyon appeared brighter or -lovelier. Health, happiness and beauty -radiated from her sparkling face and beautiful dark -eyes, and her graceful step and airy movements -were in themselves exhilarating. Sir Percy, -too, looked like a man whose heart was at rest -as he walked by his wife's side through the -woods in which the mystery of the spring was -unfolding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is just a year," said Lady Carlyon, turning -to her husband, "since you got that strange -letter from Mrs. March. Remember it was not -I but you who gave up the fight. Oh, how -much braver are women than men!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered Sir Percy, "there is a time -when a man is ready to surrender, but I never -saw the time when you, my Lady Lucy, were -ready to surrender."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite true," replied Lady Carlyon, smiling -and glancing at her husband under her long -lashes, "but, after all, wasn't Mrs. March -braver than I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps so," answered Sir Percy. "She is -altogether the strangest woman I ever knew. -I had thought her one of the worst, yet behold -she has buried herself in the wilderness with -March, has given over all that once seemed -essential to her, and has cried quits with the -world."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The spring in the Sierras was not so far -advanced as in Washington, but the sun shone -bravely and the birds, who rested under the -southern eaves of the little adobe house on the -mountain-side, flashed back and forth merrily -in the clear, blue air. The place had undergone -the subtle change which a woman's presence -makes everywhere. Another room or two and -a rude veranda had been added to the -original structure. Blooming plants at the open -windows leaned their bold, pretty faces to the -sun; a table on the veranda held magazines and -books, and a woman's shawl was thrown over -the back of a rustic chair. A little dog--a -woman's dog--was racing gaily up and down -the sunny plateau on which the little house -stood. All around was the serene stillness of -the mountains and far below in the valleys -could be heard through the thin, sharp air the -tinkle of a sheep bell and a faint echo of the -herdsman's voice. Standing in the golden glow -of the sun was Roger March. He had a book -in his hand, but was not reading it, and looked -towards a little garden which had been made on -the southern slope of the hillside. A woman in -a garden hat was kneeling down before a bed -of violets picking a few blossoms which had -dared to show their downcast faces to the rude -world. Roger March strolled towards the -kneeling woman, who rose and met him half -way, holding out her hand filled with violets. -It was Alicia.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE WHIRL</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45100"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45100</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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