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diff --git a/old/51989-0.txt b/old/51989-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cfab707..0000000 --- a/old/51989-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2500 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman in the Alcove, by Jennette Lee - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Woman in the Alcove - -Author: Jennette Lee - -Illustrator: A. I. Keller And Arthur E. Becher - -Release Date: May 3, 2016 [EBook #51989] -Last Updated: February 21, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN IN THE ALCOVE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE WOMAN IN THE ALCOVE - -By Jennette Lee - -Illustrated by A. I. Keller And Arthur E. Becher - -Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York - -1914 - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - -Copyright, 1914, by CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS - -Published September, 1914 - -TO - -GERALD STANLEY LEE - - -I - - - “Room after room, - - I hunt the house through - - We inhabit together. - - Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her-- - - Next time, herself!--not the trouble behind her - - Left in the curtain, the couch’s perfume! - - As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew; - - Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather. - - -II - - - - “Yet the day wears - - And door succeeds door; - - I try the fresh fortune-- - - Range the wide house from the wing to the centre. - - Still the same chance! She goes out as I enter. - - Spend my whole day in the quest,--who cares? - - But ’tis twilight, you see--with such suites to explore, - - Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune.” - - - - -I - - -ELDRIDGE WALCOTT paused in front of the great building; he looked -up and hesitated and went in. He crossed the marble lobby and passed -through the silent, swinging doors on the opposite side and stepped into -a softly lighted café. He had never been in Merwin’s before, though he -had often heard of it, and he was curious as to what it would be like. -There was a sound of music somewhere and low voices and the tinkle of -silver and glass behind the little green curtains. He entered an alcove -at the left and sat down. The restfulness of the place soothed him, and -he sat listening to the distant music and looking out between the parted -curtains of the alcove to the room with its little tables filling the -space beyond the green-curtained alcoves on either side and the people -seated at the tables. They were laughing and eating and talking and -drinking from delicate cups or turning slender-stemmed glasses in their -fingers as they talked. Beyond the tables rose a small platform; a woman -had just mounted it and was bowing to the scattered tables. The sound of -voices ceased an instant and hands clapped faintly here and there. The -woman on the platform bowed again and looked at the accompanist, -who struck the opening bars. It was a light, trivial song with more -personality than art in the singing of it, and the audience applauded -perfunctorily, hardly breaking off its talk to acknowledge that it was -done. The woman stepped down from the platform and joined a group at a -table near by, and waiters moved among the tables, refilling cups and -glasses and taking orders. - -A waiter paused by the alcove where Eldridge Walcott was sitting and -pushed back the little curtain and looked in and waited. Eldridge took -up the card on the table before him; he fingered it a little awkwardly -and laid it down: “Bring me cigars,” he said. - -The waiter scribbled on a card and passed on. When he had completed the -alcoves on the left he turned and went back along the right, pausing -before each one and bending forward to listen and take the order on his -card. As he approached the third alcove he pushed back the curtain that -half concealed it at the back and bent forward. When he passed on the -curtain did not fall into place; it remained caught on the back of -the seat. From where Eldridge sat he could see the woman seated in the -alcove. She was alone, her back to him, her head a little bent as if in -thought. - -He glanced at her carelessly and along the row of green curtains to the -tables beyond. It was all much as he had imagined it--a place where one -could spend time and money without too much exertion. It was the money -part of it that interested Eldridge. His client had asked him to look -into it for him as an investment, and he had decided on this informal -way of appraising it. To-morrow he was to go over the books and -accounts. The owners wanted a stiff price for the goodwill. It was -probably worth what they were asking he decided as he watched the -careless, happy crowd. People who came here were not thinking how much -they could save.... It was not the sort of place he should care to come -to often himself. Life to Eldridge was a serious, drab affair compared -with Merwin’s. He liked to think how much he could save; and when he had -saved it he liked to invest it where it would breed more.... He might -take a few shares of the capital stock himself--his client had suggested -it. - -The waiter brought the cigars and Eldridge lighted one and leaned back, -smoking and enjoying the relaxed air of the place. He could understand -dimly how people liked this sort of thing and would come day after day -for music and talk and the purposelessness of it all; it was a kind of -huge, informal club with a self-elected membership. - -As a prospective investor the charm of it pleased him. They ought to be -able to make a good thing of it. He fell to making little calculations; -it was part of his power as a successful man of business that he -understood detail and the value of small things. - -He was not a financier, but he handled small interests well and he had -built up a comfortable fortune. From being in debt before he married, -he had advanced slowly until now his investments made a good showing. -He could probably live on the income to-morrow if he chose.... He blew a -little ring of smoke.... His investments and what they were mounting -to was a kind of epic poem to Eldridge’s slow-moving mind.... Yes--he -would take a few shares of the café stock. He looked thoughtfully at -his cigar and calculated how many, and what they would be worth.... The -music had taken the form of a young boy with a violin who stood absorbed -in his playing, a kind of quick fervor in his face and figure. The -voices had ceased and only now and then a cup clicked. - -Eldridge lifted his eyes from the cigar. The woman in the alcove had -moved nearer the end of the seat and was watching the boy, her lips -parted on a half smile. - -The cigar dropped from Eldridge’s fingers. He stared at the -woman--stared--and stirred vaguely. - -She turned a little and Eldridge reached out his hand and drew a quick -curtain between them. - -Through the slit he could still see the figure of the woman, her head -thrown a little back, her eyes following the bow of music as it rose and -fell, and the lips smiling in happy content--He drew a quick breath. - -Slowly a deep flush came into his face--How dared Rosalind come here! It -was a respectable place--of course--but how dared she spend her time and -money--his money and time that belonged to her home and her children--in -a place like this?... Her hands were folded in her lap, and her eyes -followed the music. - -She had barely touched the glass on the table before her, he noted, or -the plate of little biscuit. She seemed to sit in a dream.... His mind -whirled. Six hours before he had said good-by to her at the breakfast -table--a plain, drab woman in shabby clothes, with steel-rimmed -spectacles that looked at him with a little line between the eyes -and reminded him that he needed to order coal for the range and a new -clothes-line.... He had ordered the coal, but he recalled suddenly that -he had forgotten the clothes-line; he had intended to see if he could -get one cheaper at a wholesale place he knew of; his memory held the -clothes-line fast in the left lobe of his brain while the grey matter of -the right lobe whirled excitedly about the woman in the alcove. - -[Illustration: 0025] - -She had raised a lorgnette to her eyes and was looking at the boy -violinist, a little, happy, wistful smile on her lips.... Eldridge had -not seen her smile like that for years. His left lobe abandoned the -clothes-line and recalled to him when it was he saw the little smile, -half wistful, half happy, on her face.... They were standing by the -gate, and he was saying good night; the moon had just come up, and there -was a fragrant bush beside the path that gave out the smell of spring; -the left lobe yielded up fragrance and moonlight and the little wistful -smile while his quick eye followed the lorgnette; it had dropped to -her lap, and her hands were folded on it.... Rosalind--! A gold -lorgnette--and draperies, soft, gauzy lines and folds of silk--and a hat -on her shining, lifted hair, like a vague coronet! Eldridge Walcott held -his cigar grimly between his teeth; the cigar had gone out--both lobes -had ceased to whirl.... A kind of frozen light held his face. His hand -groped for his hat. Why should he not step across the aisle and sit down -in the chair opposite her and confront her?--the green curtains would -shut them in.... Both lobes stared at the thought and held it tight--to -face Rosalind, a grey, frightened woman in her finery, behind the little -green curtains! He shook himself loose and stood up. Softly his hand -drew back the curtain, and he stepped out. They were clapping the boy -violinist, who had played to the end, and Eldridge moved toward the -swinging doors and passed out and stood in the lobby. He wiped his -forehead.... A sound of moving chairs came from behind the doors, and -he crossed the lobby quickly and plunged into the crowd. It was five -o’clock, and the streets were filled with people hurrying home. Eldridge -turned against the tide and crossed a side street and pressed east, his -feet seeming to find a way of their own. He was not thinking where he -would go--except that it must be away from her. He could not face her -yet--Who _was_ she? There was the drab woman of the morning, waiting for -him to come home with the clothesline, and there was the woman of the -alcove, splendid, gentle, with the little smile and the gold -lorgnette.... Rosalind--Fifteen years he had lived with her, and he had -known her ten years before that--there was nothing _queer_ about -Rosalind! He lifted his head a little proudly--The woman he had just -left was very beautiful! It struck him for the first time that she was -beautiful, and he half stopped. - -He walked more slowly, taking it in--Rosalind was not beautiful; she -had not been beautiful--even as a girl--only pretty, with a kind of -freshness and freedom about her and something in her eyes that he -had not understood--It was the look that had drawn him--He was always -wondering about it. Sometimes he saw it in the night--as if it flitted -when he woke. He had not thought of it for years. Something in the -woman’s shoulder and the line of her head was like it. But the woman -was very _beautiful!_--Suppose it were not Rosalind after all! He gave a -quick breath, and his feet halted and went on. Then a thought surged at -him, and he walked fast--he almost ran. No--No--! It was as if he put -his hands over his ears to shut it out. Other women--but not _his_ wife! -She had children--_three_ children! He tried to think of the children -to steady himself. He pictured her putting them to bed at night, bending -above Tommie and winding a flannel bandage tight around his throat for -croup; he could see her quite plainly, the quick, efficient fingers and -firm, roughened hands drawing the bed-clothes in place and tucking them -in.... The woman’s hands had rested so quietly in her lap! Were they -rough?--She had worn gloves--he remembered now--soft gloves, like the -color in her gown.... He stared at the gloves--they were long--they came -to the elbow--yes, there was a kind of soft, lacy stuff that fell away -from them--yes, they were long gloves.... They must have cost---- - -He tried to think what the gloves must have cost, but he had nothing to -go by. Rosalind had never worn such gloves, nor his mother or sisters. -Only women who were very rich wore gloves like that--or women---- - -He faced the thought at last. He had come out where the salt air struck -him; the town and its lights had fallen behind; there was the marsh -to cross, and he was on a long beach, the wind in his face, the water -rolling up in spray and sweeping slowly back--He strode forward, his -head to the wind.... There was no one that she knew--no man.... How -should she know any one that he did not know! - -She was never away.... But was he--sure! How did he know what went -on--all day... half past seven till seven at night? In the evenings she -mended the children’s clothes and he looked over the paper. Sometimes -they talked about things and planned how they could get along. Rosalind -was a good manager. He saw her sitting beside the lamp, in her cheap -dress, her head bent over the figures, working it out with him--and he -saw the woman in the alcove--the clothes she wore--he drew back before -it--more than the whole family spent in a year!... The gloves alone -might have bought her Sunday suit--Sunday was, after all, the only day -he knew where she was--in church with him and, in the afternoon, lying -down in her room while he took the children for a walk.... He was a good -father--he set his teeth to it defiantly, against the wind. She -could not accuse _him_ of neglect.... Suddenly a hurt feeling stirred -somewhere deep down--He did not look at it; he did not know it was -there. But the first shock had passed. He was not bewildered any -more. He could think steadily, putting point to point, building up the -“case”.... Then, suddenly, he would see her in the great spectacles, -reminding him of the clothes-line--and his “case” collapsed like a -foolish little card house.... Not Rosalind--other women, perhaps--but -not Rosalind.... He turned slowly back, the wind behind him urging him -on. He would go home--to her. Perhaps when he saw her he should know -what to think.... But perhaps she had not yet come home. If he hurried -he might get there before her and face her as she came in. He hurried -fast, he almost ran, and when he reached the streets he signalled a cab; -he had not used a cab for years; it would cost a dollar, at least--He -looked out at the half-deserted street--the crowd had thinned. He -held his watch where the light of the street arc flashed across -it--six-thirty. Half an hour before his usual time. He paid the fare -and went quickly up the steps.... The children were talking in the -dining-room. There was no other sound. He opened the door and looked in. -She was standing by the table looking at Tommie’s coat--There was a -rent in the shoulder and the face bent above it had a look of quiet -patience--The grey-drab hair was parted exactly in the middle and combed -smoothly down; the eyes behind the spectacles looked up--with the little -line between them. When she saw who it was she glanced for a moment at -the clock and then back at him--“Did you bring the clothesline?” she -asked. - -He stared at her a moment--at her plain, cheap dress and homely face. -Then he turned away. “I--forgot,” he said. - - - - -II - - -WHEN supper was done and the children in bed she moved about the room -for a few minutes putting things to rights. Eldridge, sitting by the -table, held his newspaper in his hand and now and then he rustled it and -turned it over; his eyes did not leave the little black printed marks, -but his real eyes were not following the marks; they were watching the -woman; they tried to dart upon her in her plainness and make her speak. -There was something monstrous to him--that they should be here together, -in this room--he could have touched her with his hand as she moved past -him--yet they were a thousand miles apart. He cleared his throat; he -would force her, accuse her, make her reveal what was going on behind -the earnest-looking glasses.... He turned the paper and began another -page.... If he were another man he might spring at her--take her by the -throat--force her back--back against the wall--and _make_ her speak! She -had finished tidying the room and came over to the table, the torn coat -in her hand; she was looking down at the frayed threads in the rent, the -little line between her eyes; he did not look up or move; he could hear -her breathing--then she gave a little sigh and laid the coat on the -table.... She was leaving the room. His eyes leaped after her and came -back. - -When she returned she spread the roll of pieces on the table and -selected one, slipping it in beneath the rent; he could see--without -taking his eyes from the page--he could see the anxious, faintly red -knuckles and her fingers fitting the piece in place with deft, roughened -tips. She had a kind of special skill at mending, making old things new. -When they were first married it had been one of their little jokes--how -lucky she was to have married a poor man. He had kissed her fingers one -day--he recalled it--when she had shown him the little skilful darn -in his coat; he had called it a kind of poem and he had kissed her. It -seemed almost shameless to him, behind his paper--the foolishness was -shameless--of kissing her for that.... - -She was sewing swiftly now with the short, still movements that came and -went like breaths; her head was bent over the coat and he could see the -parting of her hair; he dropped his eye to it for a minute and rustled -the paper and turned it vaguely. “I was in at Merwin’s this afternoon,” - he said. - -The needle paused a dart--and went on rhythmically, in and out. “Did you -like it?” she asked. She had not lifted her head from her work. - -He turned a casual page and read on--“Oh, so-so.” It was the sort of -absent-minded talk they often had--a kind of thinking out loud without -interest in one another. - -“It is a popular place, isn’t it?” - -She was smoothing the edges of the patch thoughtfully; there was a -little smile on her lip. - -He folded his paper. “I’m going to bed,” he announced. - -She glanced quickly at the clock and resumed her work. “I must finish -this. He hasn’t any other to wear.” The needle went in and out. - -Eldridge rose and stretched himself above her. He looked down at her--at -the swift-moving hands and grey closeness of her dress. He would like to -take her in his hands and crush out of her the thoughts--make her speak -out the thoughts that followed the swift-going needle; he did not know -that he wanted this--he was only feeling over and over, in some deep, -angry place--“What the devil was she doing there? What the----” - -He moved about the room a minute and ’went out. The woman by the table -sewed on. A bolt shot in the front hall and Eldridge’s feet mounted the -stairs slowly. Then the room was quiet--only the clock and the needle. - -Presently the needle stopped--the woman’s hands lay folded in her lap. -The figure was motionless, the head bent--only across her face moved the -little smile.... The clock travelled round and whirred its warning note -and struck, and she only stirred a little, as if a breath escaped her, -and took up her work, looking at it blindly. - -A sound came in the hall and she looked up. - -He stood in the doorway, his old dressing-gown wrapped around him, his -hands gaunt, with the little hairs at the wrist uncovered by cuffs. - -She looked at him, smiling absently. There was something almost -beautiful in her face as she lifted it to him--“When are you coming to -bed?” he asked harshly. - -“Why, right now, Eldridge--I must have been dreaming.” She gathered up -the work from her lap. “I hope I haven’t kept you awake.” - -He stood looking at her a minute. Then he wheeled about without -response. His feet beneath the bath gown moved awkwardly. But the -spine in the bath gown had a cold, dignified, offended look--a kind of -grotesque stateliness--as it disappeared through the doorway. - -The woman looked after it, the little, gathering smile still on her -face. Then she turned toward the lamp and put it out, and the radiant -smile close to the lamp became a part of the dark. - - - - -III - - -BY morning it had become a dream. - -Eldridge was late and he hurried from the house and hurried all the -morning to catch up. By luncheon time he was in another world. He -took plenty of time for his luncheon; it was one of the things he -had learned--to eat his luncheon slowly and take time to digest it. -Sometimes he read the paper, sometimes he dropped into a moving-picture -show for a few minutes afterward. But to-day he did neither. He sat -in the restaurant--it was a crowded restaurant, all America coming and -going--and he watched it idly. He had a rested, comfortable feeling, -as if he had escaped some calamity. It seemed foolish now, as he looked -back--a kind of fever in the blood that had twisted the commonest things -into queer shape. He looked back over it dispassionately--it was the -woman in Merwin’s who had started it, of course; there _was_ something -about her--something like Rosalind--curiously like her--it was like -what Rosalind _might_ have been, more than what she was--a kind of -spirited-up Rosalind! He smiled grimly. - -He called for his check; and while he waited he saw her again, the -figure of the woman--not in the restaurant--but in a kind of vision--in -the alcove behind the curtain, her head a little bent, her hands folded -quietly in her lap... who _was_ she--? His heart gave a sudden twist and -stopped--He had never felt like this about--any one--had he? He looked -down at a red check, with its stamped black figures, and fumbled in his -pocket--and brought out a coin and laid it beside the check and stared -at it.... The check and the coin slipped away and he stared at the -marble top. Suppose he saw her--again... some time.... Two coins -reappeared on the table and he picked them up. Then he put back one and -felt for his hat and went out.... The traffic shrieked at him and people -jostled him with their elbows and hurried him, and he jostled back and -woke up and shook off the queerness and went about his work.... He was -forty-one years old and his property was all well invested. It had never -occurred to him that he could be different from himself.... He read -in the paper of people who did things--did things different from -themselves, suddenly--people who squandered fortunes in a day, or -murdered and ran away from business--and their wives--people who -committed suicide. Vicariously, he knew all about how queer men could -be... and his chief experience with it all, with this world that his -newspaper rolled before him every day, was a kind of wonder that people -would do such things and a knowledge, deeper than faith or conviction, -that Eldridge Walcott would never do any of them. He explained such -men--if he explained them at all--by saying that they must have a screw -loose somewhere. Perhaps he thought of men, vaguely, as put together -with works inside, carefully adjusted and screwed in place, warranted, -with good usage, to run so long; certainly it had not occurred to him -that a man could change much after he was forty years old. - -He went back to business refreshed, more refreshed than his luncheon -often left him. He thought of Rosalind, now and then, with a kind of -thankfulness--Rosalind waiting for him at night with the children, life -moving on in the same comfortable way. He had even a moment’s flash -of thankfulness to the unknown woman that she had made him see how -comfortable he was, how much he had to be thankful for in his quiet -life. It was a profitable afternoon--the best stroke of business in -six months; and he flattered himself that he handled it well. He felt -unusually alive, alert. On the way home he passed a florist’s and -half stopped, looking down at a beautiful plant that flamed on a bench -outside the door; he did not know what it was; they were all “plants” to -him, except roses--he knew a rose--this was not a rose; he looked at it -a moment and hurried on.... She would think it strange if he brought her -anything like a plant. - -The idea grew with him the next day and the next. Why should he not give -her something? She deserved it. There seemed always some good reason -why her clothes were the last to be bought and the plainest and -shabbiest--and a woman’s clothes could always be made over.... Suppose -she had a new suit--something that was really good--Suppose he got it -for her--would she be in the least like that--other--one--? He had long -ago abandoned the idea that there was a real resemblance between -them. He knew now that he must have been overwrought, excited in some -mysterious way--the woman herself seemed to have excited him. - -The wrong that he had done Rosalind--even in his thought--made him -tender of her. He did not buy a crimson flower to take home to her. But -a week later he called one day at his bank and in the evening he handed -her a little, twisted roll of something. - -She had finished her work and was sitting for a minute before she -brought her sewing basket. He laid the roll in the curve of her fingers -in her lap. - -When she glanced down at it she took it up in short-sighted surprise and -looked at the new, crisp bills--and then at him-- - -He nodded. “For you,” he said. “It’s a new suit--you need it.” He -balanced a little on his toes, looking down at her. - -Her face flushed red; it grew from neck to chin and flooded up to him. -“What do you mean?” she said under her breath. - -“I want you to get a good one--good stuff, good dressmaker--It’s enough, -isn’t it?” - -“It is more--than enough--” The red had flooded her face again--as if -she would cry. But she said nothing for a minute. She was looking down -at the bills. - -Then she looked up. The plain face had a smile like light from somewhere -far away. “May I get just what I like--?” - -He nodded proudly. She was almost beautiful... perhaps--in the new -gown--He pulled himself together.... She had looked down again and was -fingering the bills happily.... “There is a little muff and fur--” she -said. - -He nodded, encouraging--“A muff and fur and a little fur cap that -I wanted--so much--for Mary--and overcoats for the boys--they’re so -shabby--and your hat is really not fit, you know--” She was looking up -now and smiling and checking them off--He stopped her with a gesture. - -“You are to spend it on yourself,” he said almost harshly. - -“On myself--! Why do you say that?” She almost confronted him--as if -she caught her breath--“You never have things and you always get out of -spending things on yourself.” He half muttered the words. - -“Oh--oh--! I shall get something for myself. You will see!” - -He held out his hand. He was a good man of business. No one got far -ahead of him.--“When you have bought the dress I will pay for it,” he -said. “Give them to me. I cannot trust you with them.” - -She looked at him--and at the bills--and they dropped from her hand into -his slowly and her arms fell; her shoulders rose and trembled and the -hands covered her face. She was weeping, deep, silent sobs-- - -[Illustration: 0057] - -He bent over her--ashamed. “You must not do that,” he said. “You needn’t -feel bad. I wanted you to have it--” - -She took down her hands and looked at him. “It seemed so good to -have--enough--more than enough! to be extravagant!” She threw out her -hands with a little wasteful gesture. - -He was looking at her closely. A suspicion leaped at him. Her face -was so free and the tears had made it mysterious and sweet--she was as -wonderful as that other--she was--She was--He stopped with a quick jerk. -“I want you to be extravagant on _yourself!_” he said. He was watching -her face. - -It flamed again but it did not drop before him. Only the eyes sent back -a look--on guard, it seemed to him. “I do not need so much for myself,” - she said quietly, “part of it will be quite enough.” - -He put the bills in his pocket. “All or nothing,” he said easily. - -***** - -All the next day he turned it in his mind--the look in her eyes, the -beauty--something deep within her, shining out.... He no longer went -peacefully about his work. _Could_ it have been Rosalind, after all?... -He had never seen her look like that--he had not dreamed.... But when he -came home at night the look was not there; he fancied that she was more -worn and a little troubled. Certainly, no one could think of her as -beautiful... and why should a man want to think his wife beautiful?... -It was the woman in the alcove that had done the mischief. He should -never get over the woman in the alcove. She had got into his life -whether or not. He could not be comfortable about Rosalind. There was -something about her that he had not known or suspected before. He fell -to watching her when she was not aware. He had thought he knew her so -well and now she was a stranger.... But perhaps it was himself--the -woman had done something to him. Rosalind was the same--but was she? He -looked at her a long time one night as she lay asleep. The moonlight had -come in and was on her face. He watched it--as if a breath might speak -to him--it was not Rosalind’s face. Some stranger was there, out of -a strange land; a great yearning came to him to waken her, to ask -her whence she came, what it was that she knew--what made her face so -peaceful in the moonlight--calling to him? He got up softly and closed -the blind. He remembered he had heard that it was not good for people -to sleep with the moon shining on them--it was only superstition, of -course. But superstition had suddenly changed its bounds for him.... -Were there things, perhaps, that people knew, that they guessed--true -things that they could not explain and did not talk about?... - - - - -IV - - -HE could not bring himself to speak to Rosalind about the woman in -the alcove. He wanted to speak--to do away, once for all, with the -strangeness and the spell she seemed to have cast about him, to speak of -her casually as that woman I saw the other day at Merwin’s; but he could -not do it. It was as if he were afraid--or bashful. He had not felt like -this since--not since he was in love--with Rosalind! He looked at -the thought and turned it over slowly. He was not in love with the -woman--certainly he was not in love with her! He would not know her -again if he met her on the street.... Would he not! Suddenly he felt -that he had known her always--longer than he had known Rosalind--longer -than he had been alive! He found himself wondering about the world--how -it was the world got into existence--what were men doing in it--and -women--and his mind travelled out into space--great stars swung away -mistily--what did it mean--all his world and stars?... Perhaps if he saw -her again, just a few minutes, he would feel like himself again.... It -was worth trying--and how he wanted--to--see her! Well, what of that? -There was nothing wrong in being curious about a woman like that. If she -_had_ some uncanny power over him he might as well find it out--fight -it! - -He was respectable--he was a married man.... And what had Rosalind to do -with it? Perhaps it _was_ Rosalind. He should never quiet down till he -knew. There was something in his blood. The next time he was passing -Merwin’s he would go in.... - -He passed Merwin’s that afternoon--and went in. But she was not there. -He sat a little while in the quiet of the place, looking across to the -alcove where the woman had been. There was no one in it and the curtains -were drawn back. Each time a stir came from the swinging doors or a -dress rustled beside him he half turned and held his breath till it -passed and took its place at one of the little tables or in an alcove. -But the third alcove on the right remained empty. No quiet figure moved -with soft grace and seated itself there... no one but Eldridge saw the -figure--the gentle, bending line of the neck, the little droop of the -face.... If only she would lift it or turn to him a minute.... And -then the still, clear emptiness of the place swept between; the green -curtains framed it, as if it were a picture, a little antechamber -leading somewhere.... - -Eldridge shook himself and took his hat and went out. The doors swung -silently behind him--he would never go in there again! He was a fool--a -soft fool! Then he almost stopped in the crowd of the street.... And he -knew suddenly that he would go back. He would go--again and again--he -could not help himself. But he was _not_ in love--he had been in -love--with Rosalind--and it was not like this.... A policeman thrust out -an arm and stopped him, and he waited for the traffic to stream past.... -He was not in love--only curious about the woman; it teased him not to -know who she was... and why he had been so sure that she was Rosalind. -If he could see her again--just a minute--long enough to make sure, he -would not care if he never saw her again. He was loyal, of course, to -Rosalind, more loyal than he had ever been. It seemed curious how the -woman had made him see Rosalind--all the plainness of her filled with -something strange and sweet--like moonlight or a quiet place. - - - - -V - - -THE next day he went again to Merwin’s. No use for him to say he would -keep away. He knew, all through the drudging accounts in the morning, -that he would go; and while he talked with clients and arranged sales -and managed a real-estate deal--back in the corner of his mind, behind -its green curtains, the little alcove waited. - -He passed through the swinging doors and glanced quickly, and the hand -holding his hat gripped it tight. The curtains of the third alcove to -the right were half closed, but along the floor lay a fold of grey dress -and over the end of the seat, thrown carelessly back, hung the edge of a -fur-lined wrap. - -Eldridge turned blindly toward his place. Some one was there. He had -to take the alcove behind, and he could not see her from the alcove -behind--not even if she should push back the curtain that shut her -away--But he found himself, strangely, not caring to see her.... She was -there, a little way off; it was she--no need to part the curtains and -look in on her. He felt her presence through all the place. He was no -longer guilty.... He was hardly curious to know her. He took up the card -from the table before him and studied it blindly.... His heart seemed to -lie out before him--a clear, white place.... Men and women were not so -evil as he had dreamed. He was doing something that a week ago he would -have condemned any one for; yet his heart, as he looked into it, was -singularly clear and big--and the light shining in it puzzled him--like -a charm--It was a place that he had never seen; he had dreamed of it, -perhaps, as a child. He ordered something, at random, from the card and -moved nearer the aisle.... No, he could not see her--only the fold of -her dress and the bit of grey fur. He was glad she was warmly dressed. -The weather was keener to-day. He must get Rosalind a wrap--something -warm like that and lined with fur--soft and grey and deep. Everything -the woman had he would like Rosalind to have--perhaps it might atone--a -little--for the light in his heart. He had not felt like this for -Rosalind.... But how should they have known. They were only a boy and -girl--and some moonlight.... And all the time this other woman was -waiting--somewhere.... No one had told him. If some one had said to him: -“Wait, she is coming--you must wait!” But no one knew, no one had told -him.... Did _she_ know, across there in her place, did she know--had she -waited--for him? He stirred a little. Some one might be with her now; -or she might be waiting for some one. But he could not go to her.... -And yet--why not--?--He had only to cross the aisle--and put back the -curtains--and look at her.... He shook himself and lifted his glass and -drank grimly. He was a lawyer; his name was Eldridge Walcott; he lived -in a brick house and he had children--three children--_That_ was the -real world; this other thing was--madness.... So this was the way -men felt! This was it, was it--very clean and whole--as if life were -beginning for them--they had made mistakes, but they would try again; -they saw something bigger and better than they had ever known--and they -reached out to it. Men were not wicked, as he had thought--It was a -strange world where you had to be wicked to do things--like this!... And -there might be some one with her now! Under the voices and the music he -fancied he could hear them talking in low tones; their voices seemed to -come and go vaguely; half guessed, not constant, but quiet and happy.... -Or was it his own heart that beat to her--the words it could speak?... -He would not speak to her--but he would not go away.... He would wait -till she moved back the curtain and stepped out. - -Then he half remembered something--and looked at his watch--he had -promised Rosalind to wait for the boys and take them to the dentist’s. -She had said she could not go this afternoon and he had promised to wait -at the office; he had not meant to come here.... He slipped back the -watch and stood up and hesitated--and turned away. He might never -see her now. Well, he had promised Rosalind. Somehow, the promise to -Rosalind must be kept--now. The letter of the law must be kept! - -***** - -They were waiting for him in the hall by his office door, sitting at the -top of the flight of stairs and peering down into the elevator-shaft as -the elevator shot up and down. He saw them as he stepped out, and smiled -at them. They were fresh, wholesome boys, and he had a sense, as he -fitted the key in the lock and they stood waiting behind his bent back, -that they belonged to him. He had always thought of them as Rosalind’s -boys! - -He threw open the door and they went in, looking about them almost -shyly; they were not shy boys, but father was a big man--and they looked -at the place where he worked.... Some time they would be--men and have -an office.... - -Eldridge Walcott turned back from the desk that he had opened. He had -taken out a little roll of paper and slipped it into his pocket. Their -eyes followed him gravely. He looked at them standing--half in their -world, half in his--and smiled to them. - -“You had to wait a good while, didn’t you?” he said. - -They nodded together. “Most an hour,” said Tommie. - -“Well, that’s all right--Something kept me. Come on.” - -When they reached home that evening he handed the little roll of paper -he had taken from the desk to Rosalind. “I have doubled it,” he said. - -“There will be enough for everything you want.” - -For a minute she did not speak. Then she took it. “Thank you,” she said -slowly. - -“I want you to get a suit, you know--a good one--” He paused. “--And you -need something warm--a fur-lined wrap or something--don’t you?” - -She wrinkled the little line between her eyes. “It is--so late--the -winter is half gone already.” Then her face cleared. “I think -I’ll--wait till spring,” she said. - -He could almost fancy something danced at him, mocked him behind the -still face. - -He turned away, the deep, hurt feeling coming close. “Get what you -like,” he said. “I want you to have enough.” - -The money lay in her hand, and her fingers opened on it and closed on -it. Then she breathed softly, like a sigh, and went to her desk and put -it away. - - - - -VI - - -THROUGH the weeks that followed Eldridge watched the things money could -buy quietly taking their place in the house. Little comforts that he had -not missed--had not known any one could miss--were at hand. The children -looked somehow subtly different. He had a sense of expansion, softly -breaking threads of habit, expectancy. Only Rosalind seemed unchanged. -Yet each time he looked at her he fancied that she _had_ changed--more -than all of them. He could not keep his eyes from her. Something was -hidden in her--Something he did not know--that he would never -know. Perhaps he should die and not know it.... Did the dead -know things--everything? He seemed to remember hazily from -Sunday-school--something--If he were dead, he might come close to -her--as close as the little thoughts behind her eyes---- - -The cold grew keener, and Eldridge, shivering home from the office, -remembered a pair of fur gloves in the attic. He had not worn them for -years. But after supper he took a light and went to look for them. - -It was cold there, in the attic, and he shivered a little, looking about -the dusty place. There were boxes stacked along under the eaves and -garments hanging grotesquely from the beams. He knew where Rosalind kept -the gloves; he had seen them one day last summer when he was looking for -window netting. It had not seemed to him then, in the hot attic, that -any one could ever need gloves. He set down the lamp on a box and drew -out a trunk and looked in it; they were not there. She must have changed -the place of things--he would have to go down and ask her. - -Then his eye sought out a box pushed far back under the eaves--he did -not remember that he had ever seen that box; he glanced at it--and half -turned away to pick up the lamp--and turned back. He could not have told -why he felt that he must open it. He had set the light on a box a -little above him, and it glimmered down on the box that he drew out and -opened--and on a smooth piece of tissue-paper under the cover----A faint -perfume came from beneath the paper, and he lifted it. There was a pair -of long grey gloves--with the shape of a woman’s hand still softly held -in the finger-tips.... He lifted them and stared and moistened his lips -and ran his hand down inside the box to the bottom--soft, filmy stuff -that yielded and sprang back.... He kneeled before it, half on his -heels, peering down. He bent forward and lifted the things out--white -things with threaded ribbon and lace--things such as Eldridge Walcott -had never seen--delicate, web-like things--then a fur-lined coat and a -grey dress and, at the bottom, a little linked something. He lifted it -and peered at it and at the coins shining through the meshes and dropped -it back. - -He stood up and looked about him vaguely... after a minute he shivered -a little. It was very cold in the attic. He knelt down and tried to put -the things back; but his fingers shook, and the things took queer shapes -and fell apart, and a soft perfume came from them that confused him. -He tried to steady himself--he began at the bottom, putting each thing -carefully in place... smoothing it down. - -The door below creaked. A voice listened.... “You up there, Eldridge?” - -He straightened himself... out of a thousand thoughts and questions. -“Where are my fur gloves?” he said quietly. He took the light from its -box and came over to the stairs. - -Her face, lifted to him, was in the light and he could see the rays of -light falling on it--and on the stillness, like a pool.... - -“They’re in the black trunk,” said Rosalind. Her foot moved to the -stair--“I’ll get them for you.” - -“No--Don’t come up,” he said. “It’s cold here. I know--I was just -looking there.” - -So she went back, closing the door behind her to keep out the cold. - -When Eldridge came down he did not look at her. He blew out the light -and put the gloves with his hat in the hall and came over with his paper -and sat down. - -She was standing by the fire, bending over a pair of socks that she had -been washing out. She was hanging them in front of the fire, pulling -out the toes. Her eyes looked at him inquiringly as her fingers went on -stretching the little toes. - -“Did you find them?” - -“Yes.” He opened his paper slowly. She went on fussing at the socks, a -little, absent smile on her face. “If it keeps on like this I must get -heavier flannels for them,” she said. The look in her face was very -sweet as she bent over the small socks. - -He looked up--and glanced away. “Money enough--have you?” - -“Oh, yes--plenty of money. I will get them to-morrow--if I can go in to -town--” she said. - -His mind flashed to the attic above them and to the quiet alcove with -the little green curtains that shut it off. “Better dress warm if you do -go,” he said carelessly. “It is pretty cold, you know.” He took up the -paper and stared at it. - - - - -VII - - -SO it was--Rosalind! He sat in his office and stared at the blotter on -his desk.... It was a green blotter-----For years after Eldridge -Walcott could not see a green blotter without a little, sudden sense -of upheaval; he would walk into a plain commercial office--suddenly the -walls hovered, the furniture moved subtly--even the floor grew a little -unsteady before he could come with a jerk to a green blotter on the -roller-top desk--and face it squarely. The blotter on his own desk was -exchanged for a crimson one--the next day. He would have liked to -change everything in the room. The very furniture seemed to mock him--to -question.... - -So it was--Rosalind! Rosalind--was like that--! His heart gave a -quick beat--like a boy’s--and stood still.... Rosalind was like -that--for--somebody else.... He stared at the blotter and drew a pad -absently toward him. - -The office boy stuck his head in the door and drew it back. He shook it -at a short, heavy man with a thinnish, black-grey beard who was hovering -near. “He told me not to disturb him--not for anybody,” the boy said -importantly. - -The man took a card from his pocket and wrote on it. “Take him that.” - The boy glanced at the name and at the thin, blackish beard. There was -a large wart on the man’s chin where the beard did not grow. The boy’s -eyes rested on it--and looked away to the card. “I ’ll--ask him--” he -said. - -The man nodded. “Take him that first.” - -The boy went in. - -The man walked to the window and looked down; the thick flesh at the -back of his neck overlapped a little on the collar of his well-cut coat -and the heavy shoulders seemed to shrug themselves under the smooth fit. - -The boy’s eyes surveyed the back respectfully. “You’re to come in,” he -says. - -The man turned and went in and Eldridge Walcott looked up. “I’m sorry to -have kept you waiting.” - -“That’s all right.” The man sat down a little heavily--as if he were -tired. “That’s all right. I waited because I wanted to see you. I want -some one to do--a piece of work--for me--” - -“Yes?” - -“I don’t care to have my regular man on it--” - -“You have Clarkson, don’t you?” - -“Yes--I have Clarkson.” The man waited. “Clarkson’s all right--for -business,” he said. “I want a different sort--for this.” - -He felt in the pocket of his coat and drew out a letter, and then -another, and held them, looking down at them absently, turning them over -in his hand. - -“It’s a divorce--” he said. He went on turning the letters in his hand -but not looking at them. “I’ve waited as long as I could,” he added -after a minute. “It’s no use--” He laid the letters on the desk. -“It took a detective--and money--to get ’em. I reckon they’ll do the -business,” he said. - -Eldridge reached out his hand for them. The man’s errand startled him a -little. He had been going over divorce on the green blotter when the boy -came in. He opened the letters slowly. A little faint perfume drifted -up--and between him and the words came a sense of the blackish-grey -beard and the wart in among it. He had stared at it, fascinated, while -the man talked.... He could imagine what it might mean to a woman, day -after day. He focussed his attention on the letter--and read it and took -up the other and laid it down.... - -“Yes--Those are sufficient,” he said almost curtly. He took up his pen. -“Your middle initial is J?” - -“Gordon J.,” said the man. - -Eldridge traced the name. “And your wife?” - -The man stared at him. - -“Her full name--” said Eldridge. - -“Her name is Cordelia Rose--Barstow,” said the man. - -Eldridge wrote it efficiently. “Do you name any one as co-respondent?” - -“I name--his name is--” The man gulped and his puffy face was grim. -“John E. Tower is his name,” he said slowly. - -Eldridge filled in the paper before him and laid a blotter across it. -“That is sufficient. I will file the application to-morrow. There will -be no trouble. She will not contest it--?” - -The man swallowed a little. “No--She wants--to be free--” He ended the -words defiantly, but with a kind of shame. - -Eldridge made no reply. He was seeing a quiet figure, with bent head, -smiling at something--something that shut him out. He looked across to -the man. - -The man’s eyes met his. “That’s all you need--is it?” He seemed a little -disappointed. “No more to it than this?” - -“That’s all,” said Eldridge. - -But the man did not get up. “I don’t know how it happened,” he said. -“You see, I never guessed--not till two weeks--ten days ago or so.” - -“I see--” - -“I’d always trusted Cordelia--I hadn’t ever thought as she could do -anything like that--not _my_ wife!” - -“One doesn’t usually expect it of one’s--own wife.” Eldridge laughed a -little, but it was not unkindly, and the man seemed to draw toward him. - -“I’ve never mentioned it--except to that detective, and I didn’t tell -him--any more than I had to--He didn’t seem to need much telling--” - he said dryly. “He seemed to sense just about what had been going -on--without telling.” - -“Yes--?” Eldridge was looking thoughtfully into the greyish-black beard -with the round lump in it. - -“He’s got the facts. It took him just two weeks--to get ’em.” His hand -motioned toward the letters, but there was something in the face--a kind -of puffy appeal. - -Eldridge nodded. “They know what to do,” he said quietly. - -“I hadn’t even mistrusted,” said the man. His eyes were looking at -something that Eldridge could not see--something that seemed to -come from a faint perfume in the room.... “I can see it plain enough -now--looking back.... You don’t mind my telling you--a little--about -it.” Eldridge shook his head. The man seemed a kind of lumbering boy, -yet he was a shrewd, keen man in business. - -“It might help--you know--” he said. “I thought you’d ask me, -probably--I’d kind of planned to tell you, I guess.” He laughed a little -awkwardly. - -“Go ahead,” said Eldridge. - -“He was _my_ friend, you see. And I brought him home with me and made -’em friends.... I can see now, looking back, what a fool I was--about -it. But I didn’t see it--then. I don’t know now what it was about -him.... He’s old as I be--and I’ve got the money. I can give her -everything she wants--more than he can. But I know now that from the -first day she see him she was curious about him.... I’d brought him home -to dinner one night--It was just after we were married.... I always kind -of think of him that night--the way he looked at table--he’s tall--You -know him--?” - -Eldridge nodded. He was seeing the tall, distinguished figure--and -beside it a humped-up one across his desk. - -“We had red lamp-shades and candles and flowers--Everything shining, you -know--Cordelia likes ’em that way.... When I try to think how it started -I see ’em the way they looked that first night. I was proud of ’em both. -I felt as if Cordelia belonged to me--and as if he did, too--in a way--” - He looked at Eldridge. “I’d put him on to a good thing in business--!” - -“Yes.” - -“He and Cordelia laughed and talked the whole evening--kind o’ took it -up--back and forth--the way you’d play ball. I could see Cordelia liked -him. I was a fool. I’d waited about getting married till I had money -enough to give a woman--to give her everything--and when she’d got it -I never see there might be--something else she’d want.... I don’t just -know what now--” He shook his head. - -“Some days, since I’ve got sure of it, I’ve felt as if it _couldn’t_ be -so--as if she couldn’t have gone on living with me and having that other -life--I didn’t know about--shut away from me--and I loving her....” - The little, clear alcove moved before Eldridge and moved away. He was -making absent marks on the edge of the pad before him. - -The man sighed. “Well--It isn’t any use! That’s all, I guess--” Eldridge -looked up. “Had you thought of--winning her back?” - -The man shook his head. “I couldn’t do it.” He looked at him as if -wondering whether he would understand. “There’s something about her I -don’t get at,” he said slowly. - -“Isn’t there something about any woman you don’t get at?” said Eldridge. - -“That’s it!” assented the man. “It isn’t just Cordelia. It’s all of -them--in back of ’em, somehow. I can’t tell you just how it is, but -I’ve thought of it a lot--I guess there isn’t anything I haven’t thought -of--since I knew--lying awake nights and thinking. Somehow, I knew, the -first day it came to me--I knew there wasn’t any use... since the day I -come on ’em at Merwin’s.” - -The lawyer’s hand, making its little marks, stopped--and went on. “They -were at Merwin’s--together?” he said. - -“Everybody goes to Merwin’s,” said the man. “It wasn’t their being -there; it was the way they looked when I saw ’em.... They were sitting -in one of them little alcove places, you know--” - -Eldridge nodded. Yes--he knew. - -“The curtains were open--wide open,” said the man. “Anybody could -’a’ looked in. There wasn’t anything wrong about it. But I saw their -faces--both of ’em--and I knew.... They were just sitting quiet--the way -people do when they’re alone.... There’s something different about -the way people sit--when they’re alone--by themselves--I don’t know as -you’ve ever noticed it?” - -“I have noticed it,” said Eldridge. “Quiet and happy--” said the -man, “and not talking--and not needing to talk.” He took up his -hat. “Well--you know where to find me. I shan’t bother you like this -again----” He stood up. - -Eldridge held out a hand. “I am glad you told me. It helps--to -understand--the case.” - -The man’s thick face looked at him. “I don’t understand it myself,” he -said, “but I’ve got to go through with it.” - - - - -VIII - - -ELDRIDGE went on making little marks on the edge of the paper. He no -longer stared at the blotter; he was seeing things. Gordon Barstow’s -recital had shown things to him in perspective and his own trouble -seemed moved far away from him to a kind of clear place. He sat and -looked at it--making little marks on the paper. Rosalind was not to -blame. A woman like Rosalind had the right--she could do what she -wanted! What had _he_ ever done to win her--to keep her? Not even money. -He had kept it for himself--and built up a comfortable fortune.... -He had the fortune--yes. And he had lost Rosalind.... He suddenly saw -himself in the clear light--he was not lovable like old Barstow. -The vision grew before him--all his saving closeness, his dulness--a -lifeless prig!... And then the picture of Rosalind, the vision of her in -her alcove--“the way people sit when they are alone--I don’t know as you -ever noticed--?” old Barstow had said. - -Well, then--what was to be done? His shoulders squared a little. No man -was going to win Rosalind--without a fight! The man who would win her -should reckon with him.... He had never known Rosalind. Perhaps Rosalind -had never known him.... What had he given her--to know him by? She had -had the right to work for him, to sweep his floors and make his bed -and take care of the children... She should have money now. She should -become a partner--in all his plans--and suddenly El-dridge Walcott saw -that money would not win her--money would not buy the gracious presence -in the alcove; she did not need money.... He must give his soul--to -win her--Then he took out his soul and looked at it--the shrunken, dry, -rattling thing--and flicked it from him with a finger-nail. - -The office boy put his head in cautiously. - -“What do you want?” said Eldridge harshly. - -“It’s Mr. Dutton,” said the boy. - -“Well, show him in.” - -And while Mr. Dutton talked of real estate, Eldridge’s soul peeped out -at the man. He wanted to stop the flow of facts and figures and put -a straight question to him. “How do you get on with your wife, Mr. -Dutton?” he wanted to say to him. He could see the man’s startled face -checked in its flow of fact.... It would not do; of course it would not -do to ask him how he got on with his wife. Probably he got on with her -as Eldridge Walcott had done--sewing, sweeping, eating, saving--“So I -have decided,” the man was saying, “to take the entire block--if the -title is good.” - -Eldridge Walcott bowed him out and turned back from the door. But he did -not sit down. He would go to Merwin’s. Perhaps she was there--she had -said she might come in to town.... But, with his hand on the door, he -paused----Suppose he found her--What then?--and the man with her? What -then?--Suppose he found her! There was nothing he could do--not yet! He -would win her back.... But the man he had to reckon with was not the man -sitting with her now, perhaps, in the alcove. The man he had to reckon -with was Eldridge Walcott--the little, shrunken, undersized Eldridge -Walcott. - -He saw it--standing with his hand on the door, looking down--and he -looked at it a long minute. - -Then he opened the door. - -The office boy wheeled about from the window-shade that was stuck -halfway up. - -“I am ready to see anybody that comes, Burton,” he said. - -“All right,” said the boy. “This old thing gets stuck every other day!” - He jerked at it. - -Eldridge came across and looked at the cord and straightened it and went -back to his room. The little incident strengthened him subtly. He had -never yet failed in anything he undertook, big or little--he had always -succeeded in what he undertook--And suddenly he saw that Eldridge -Walcott had never in his life undertaken anything that was not small.... -He had done small, safe things. He had straightened window-shades all -his life--and he had never failed! - -He had always had a half-veiled contempt for men who ran risks. Find -a safe thing and hold on to it had been his policy. It had brought him -through smugly. He had never made a mistake.... The nearest he had ever -come to a risk was before he asked Rosalind to marry him. There had -been something about her that he could not fathom, something that drew -him--and made him afraid--a kind of sweet mystery... that would not -let him be safe. Then it had seemed so safe afterward; they had lived -together quietly without a break. The young Rosalind who had taught him -to be afraid he had forgotten--and now young Rosalind had come back... -she had come back to him and with deeper mystery.... This was the real -Rosalind, the other was only a shadowy promise.... The young Rosalind -would try him for his soul--and he had--no soul! - -Who was that other man in the alcove with her--the man who had won her? -Who was it she had found to understand the mystery--to look up to her -and worship her--as he had worshipped Rosalind, the girl; as he had -worshipped Rosalind--and let her go! - -And he had been thinking about divorce! Thinking of the grounds for it -and how he should get grounds of divorce--as Gordon Barstow had done. He -glanced at the two letters on his desk and at the little, jotted notes -of the Barstow case and a smile flitted to them--grounds for divorce -from Rosalind! He saw her, in her freedom, moving from him.... His teeth -set a little. She should never leave him! She should stay with him. She -should stay because he wanted her--and because she wanted him! - -And through the rest of the day, as clients came and went, he saw -something new. He saw cases differently. Men were accustomed to come -to him because he was a “safe” man.... Well, he was not quite safe -to-day--But he knew underneath, as he worked, that his advice had never -been so worth while. - - - - -IX - - -HE had left the office early and had caught a car that was passing the -corner as he came out. As soon as he entered he knew that Rosalind was -in the car, three seats ahead. He gave a little start, a quick flash--he -did not want to catch Rosalind off guard--Then he smiled; it was not -Rosalind of the alcove--it was the plain, every-day Rosalind, her lap -heaped with bundles, and bundles on the seat beside her. Rosalind’s -flannels, he thought, probably. - -He moved down the aisle and stood beside the seat, lifting his hat and -looking down at her. - -“Why, Eldridge!” She looked up with the little peering smile and made a -place for him among the bundles, trying to gather them up into her lap. - -But he swept them away. “I’ll take these,” he said. - -The little distressed look came between her eyes. Eldridge couldn’t -bear bundles. “I thought I wouldn’t wait to have them sent,” she -apologized. “It’s so cold--and they need them--right off.” - -“Yes--” He looked at her jacket; it was thin, with the shabby lining -showing at the edge. “Did you get yourself a warm wrap?” he asked. - -She was looking out of the window, and the line of her cheek flushed -swiftly. “No--I--” - -“I want you to do it--at once.” - -She glanced at him--a little questioning look in her face. -“I--have--seen something I like--” she said. - -“Get it to-morrow. I will order it for you when I go in.” - -Her hands made a gesture above the bundles. “Please don’t, Eldridge. I -would rather--do it--myself.” - -“Very well. But remember to get it.” - -“Yes--I will get it.” She sighed softly. - -Deceitful Rosalind! If he had not seen for himself the box in the attic -with its overflowing soft colors and the grey fur, he would not have -believed the deceit of her face.... - -Not that he was blaming anybody. He was not blaming Rosalind. The -picture of Mr. Eldridge Walcott remained with him.... He was not likely -to forget how Mr. Eldridge Walcott had looked to him--in the flash of -light. - -Perhaps he looked like that to Rosalind--to both Rosalinds! He turned -a little in the seat and glanced down at her--Yes, they were both -there--the plain little figure in its shabby jacket and the reticent, -beautiful woman of the alcove. - -The fingers in cheap gloves were fussing at a parcel. “I got -fleece-lined shirts for Tommie--his skin is so sensitive--I thought I -would try fleece-lined ones for him.” - -Damn fleece-lined ones! Would she never talk to him except of -undershirts--and coal-hods? He took the paper from his pocket and -glanced casually at it. - -“Has coal gone up?” she asked. “They said it would go up--if it stayed -cold.” The anxious, lines were in her face. - -He put down the paper and leaned toward her. He felt nearer to her, in a -street car, than in his own home. “Don’t you worry about coal, Rosalind! -We shall not freeze--nor starve.” - -She stared a little. “Of course, we shall not freeze, Eldridge!” - -“I mean there is plenty--to be comfortable with. You are not to worry -and pinch.” - -A quick look flooded out at him--a look of the Rosalind within. “You -mean we can _afford_ not to worry?” - -He saw the prig Eldridge Walcott, walking in serene knowledge of a -comfortable income while the little lines had gathered in her face. He -longed to kick the respectable Mr. Eldridge Walcott from behind. - -“There is quite enough money,” he said. “I am doing better than I -have--and I shall do better yet.” - -She looked down at the bundles. “I might have got a better quality,” she -said. - -“Take them all back,” said Eldridge. “I’ll take them--” - -But she shook her head. “No, they need them to-morrow--and these will -do--” She smiled at them. “It’s really more the feeling that you _can_ -get better ones, isn’t it? You don’t mind wearing old things--if you -know you could have better ones--if you wanted to--” She broke off -vaguely. - -He saw the box in the attic--all the filmy softness--and he saw the -ill-fitting, cheap gloves resting in her lap--That was what had saved -her--the real Rosalind. Some one had seen that her soul should be in its -own clothes, now and then, and happy and free. You could not quite be -jealous of a man who had done that for you--who had clothed Rosalind’s -soul, could you? - -He could not think of the man who had clothed Rosalind’s soul--who had -kept alive something that was precious. He could not hate the man. But -there was no place in his thoughts for him. - -Suppose, after all, Rosalind belonged to the man who saw her soul and -clothed it? Suppose Rosalind belonged to him!... Very well--_he should -not have her!_ - -He helped her from the car with her bundles, and as he fitted the key in -the door the wind struck them fiercely; they were almost blown in with -the force of it as the door opened. They stood in the hall, laughing, -safe--the wind shut out----There was a quick color in her face, and it -lifted to him, laughing freshly, like a girl’s. - -They were together. She had not looked at him like that for years. - -He pondered on the look as she went about getting supper. He watched her -come and go and wondered awkwardly whether he might not offer to go out -and help. He went at last into the kitchen; she was putting coal on the -fire and he took the hod from her, throwing on the coal. - -She looked at him, puzzled. “Are you in a hurry for supper, Eldridge?” - -“Oh--No.” He went back to the living-room, and talked a little with the -children, amusing them quietly. He had a home sense, a feeling that the -room was a kind of presence; the wind howling outside could not touch -them.. - -And when Rosalind came in and they sat at the table and he looked across -to her shyly, almost like a boy, he wished he knew what would please her -best. He could not keep his eyes off her hand as it grasped the handle -of the teapot and poured his tea. It seemed such a mysterious hand with -the roughened finger pricks--and the little gentle hand inside that did -no work. He wanted to take the hand, to touch it.... Of course, a man -would not take his wife’s hand--like that. He could see the startled -look in Rosalind’s eyes if he should reach out.... There was a long road -to travel--and he did not know the way. - -But he could begin softly with clothes--and touch her hand later -perhaps. She should have beautiful things------He had told her to buy -the fur-lined coat. - -He pictured her in it--the coat that _his_ money should buy--he saw -her wrapped in it, and he sat still thinking of her and of the coat his -money should buy. Then the door opened and he looked up. - -She was standing in the door--and about her was a long grey coat lined -with fur--the coat of the alcove. Her eyes looked at him over the soft -fur of the collar. - -He sprang to his feet--then he checked the word on his lip. - -He must not let her speak. It was the coat of the alcove. She would wear -it silently. But she would not tell him. She must not be frightened into -saying something that was not true. He came over to her and touched the -edge of the fur, as if questioning it, and she smiled and opened it out. -“Is it warm enough?” she asked proudly. - -She stood with the garment extended like wings, and he held his breath. - -Then she drew it together softly. - -“I have had it some time,” she said. “I was keeping it to surprise you!” - -His breath came quick. How much would she tell him? He looked at it -critically. “Was it a bargain?” he asked.. - -“No--Not a bargain.” And she stroked the edge of the fur. “I saw it and -liked it--and I got it.” - -“That’s right. That’s the way to buy all your clothes.” He looked at it -a minute lightly and turned away. - -She could not have guessed from his gesture that he was disappointed, -but her eyes followed him. “I hope you won’t think I paid too much--for -it?” - -“What did you pay?” he asked. His back was toward her. - -“I paid--two hundred dollars,” she said. The words came lightly, and -there was a little pause. - -“No, I don’t think that was too much.” He had turned and was looking at -her--straight. “I would have paid more than two hundred--to give it to -you,” he said slowly. - -She made no reply, but her eyes regarded him gravely over the edge of -the collar. Wrapped in the coat, she seemed for a moment the woman of -the alcove. - -He looked at her blindly. - -She returned the look a minute--and turned away slowly and went out. - -Eldridge walked to the table and stood looking down.... He had given -her, in all, not more than two hundred and fifty dollars. Did she expect -him--to believe--that all the things that had come into the house since -had not cost more than fifty dollars? - -It was as if she flaunted it at him--as if she wanted him to know that -it could not have been _his_ money that bought it!... So that was it! -She had seen--she had guessed the change in him--and this was her guard? -She would force him to know--to accuse her. - -Old Barstow’s words came to him mockingly: “No--she will not contest it. -She wants--to be--free.” - - - - -X - - -BUT if she wished him to know she gave no other sign. - -She spent the money that he gave her, and when it was gone she asked him -for more. - -Only once she had said as she took it: “You are sure it is right for me -to spend this?” - -And he had replied: “When you ask for anything I cannot give you I will -let you know.” - -She had said nothing. She had not even glanced at him. But somehow he -fancied that she understood him. - -He grew to know, by intuition, the days when she would go to Merwin’s. - -As he left the house he would say: “She will be there--” And when he -dropped in, in the afternoon, he did not even need to glance at the -alcove on the right. He would sit down quietly in his place across the -aisle, glad to be with her. - -He never saw her come and go and he did not know whether any one was -with her--behind her curtain. He tried not to know.... He was trying to -understand Rosalind. What was it drew her? Was it music--or the quiet -place? Or was there------? - -He could easily have known.... Gordon Barstow’s detective would -have made sure for him in a day.... But Eldridge did not want to -know--anything that a detective could tell him. He did not want to be -told by detectives or told things detectives could tell. He was studying -Rosalind’s every wish--as if he were a boy. - -He did not go to Merwin’s till he felt sure that she would be there in -the alcove, and he left before she drew the little curtain and came out. -He did not want to know.... He only wanted her to be there--and to sit -with her a little while, quietly.... - -He would wait and understand. - -A piano had come into the house and the boys were taking lessons. One -day he discovered that Rosalind was learning, too. - -He had come home early, wondering whether he would ask her to go for a -walk with him. He had asked her once or twice and they had gone for -a little while before supper, walking aimlessly through the suburban -streets, saying very little; he had fancied that Rosalind liked it--but -he could not be sure. - -He opened the door with his latchkey and stepped in. Some one was -playing softly, stopping to sing a little, and then playing again.... -Rosalind was alone. - -[Illustration: 0127] - -He stood very quiet in the dark hall; only a little light from above the -door--shining on the stair rail and on a lamp that hung above it.... She -was playing with the lightest touch--a few notes, as if feeling her -way, and then the little singing voice answering it.... So she was like -this--very still and happy--and he was shut out. His hand groped behind -him for the latch and found it and opened the door, and he stepped -outside and closed the door softly. - -He stood a moment in the wind. Behind his door he heard the music -playing to itself.... - -He walked for a long time that afternoon--along the dull streets, -staring at brick houses and at children running past him on brick -walks.... It was all brick walks and long rows of houses--and dulness; -he could not reach Rosalind. He could buy clothes for her--more -bricks... and there was the music--his mind halted--and went on. - -Music made her happy--like that! He bought an evening paper and studied -it awhile, standing by the newsstand, with the cars and taxis shooting -past. Presently he folded the paper and took a car that was going toward -town. There was something he could do for Rosalind--something that no -one had thought of--something that she would like! - -He was as eager and as ignorant as a boy, standing in front of the -barred ticket window and looking in. - -“Tickets for the Symphony?” The man glanced out at him. “House sold -out.” - -Eldridge stared back. “You mean--I cannot--get them!” - -“Something may come in. You can leave your name.” The man pushed paper -and pencil toward him. - -Eldridge wrote his name slowly. “I want--good ones.” - -“Can’t say--” said the man. - -“There are six ahead of you--” He took up the paper and made a note. - -Eldridge stepped outside. A man looked at him and moved up, falling into -step beside him. “I have a couple of tickets--” he said softly. - -He did not know that he was speaking to a man on a quest, a man who -would have paid whatever he might ask for the slips of paper in his -hand--They were not mere symphony tickets he sold. They were tickets to -the fields of the sun. He asked five dollars for them; he might have got -fifty. - -Eldridge slipped them into his pocket. He stepped back into the hall. “I -shall not need those tickets,” he said. - -The man in the window glanced at him, indifferent, and crossed out a -name. - -All the way home Eldridge’s heart laughed. Would she like it?... She -had played so softly... she would listen like that--and he would be with -her.... He could not keep the tickets in his pocket. He took them out -and looked at them--two plain blue slips with a few black marks on -them.... And he had thought of it himself!--It was not Mr. El-dridge -Walcott’s money that bought them for her.... Would she understand it was -not money--? - -She took them from him with half-pleased face--“For the Symphony?” she -said. - -“I thought you might--we--. might like it--” - -She looked at them a minute. “I never went to a symphony--” - -“Nor I--” He laughed a little. “I thought we might--try it.” - -She was still regarding them thoughtfully. “I haven’t anything to -wear--have I--?” She looked up with the wrinkled line between her eyes. - -“Wear your--” He checked it on his tongue. “Get something--There’s a -week, you know. You can get something, can’t you?” - -“Yes, if you think I ought--” - -“Of course--get what you need.” She waited thoughtfully.... “I have--a -dress that might do--with a little changing--” she said. - -He saw with a flash, suddenly, the dark attic above them--and a man on -his knees staring down at the grey and shimmering whiteness. “Better get -something new, wouldn’t you?” said Eldridge. - -“Perhaps--I will think--about it.” - -He could not have told which he wished-----But when, the night of the -concert, she came down to him wearing the grey dress and long grey -gloves, with the lace falling softly back--he knew in the flash, as he -looked at her, that he was glad.... - -She was buttoning one of the gloves and the long grey coat hung from her -arm. She did not look up. - -He took it from her and wrapped her in it. - -They were going to another world--together. She was going--with him. - -There was a little, quiet flush in her face as she sat in the car. Other -people were going to the concert, and she looked at them as they came in -and sat down. - -And Eldridge looked at Rosalind. He did not speak to her.... They -were going to a new world--and the car was taking them.... Bits of -talk--color--drifting fragrance as the coats fell back.... The woman -across the aisle had a bunch of violets.... - -Why had he not thought to get violets for Rosalind! Would she have liked -flowers--? She seemed a strange Rosalind, sitting beside him in the -car in her grey dress--her eyes like little stars.... They had three -children... and a brick house.... - -The car jolted on. Eldridge would have wished that it might never -stop.... There would not be another night like this. He could put out -his hand and touch mystery.... Then he was helping her over the crowded -street and they were in the hall--with flowers everywhere--and something -close about you that touched you when you moved. - -***** - -For years afterward he looked back to that Symphony with Rosalind. He -had come blindly to a door--as blindly as, when a boy, he had walked in -the moonlight--and they had gone in together. They were like children in -its strangeness. And as children explore a new field, they went -forward. It belonged to them--the lights and people, and vibrations -everywhere.... They would go till they came to the end--but there would -be no end--always hills stretching beyond, and a wood--something deep, -mysterious in that wood.... They came to it softly, looking in, and -turned back.... Once Rosalind had turned and looked at him. - -He held that fast--through the weeks and months that went by, through -the dull brick streets, he held it fast--for a moment the hidden -Rosalind had come to her window and looked out at him and smiled--before -she turned away. - - - - -XI - - -THE next day Gordon Barstow had come to see him. The divorce had -dragged on. It had not been contested, but there had been delays and -consultations and Eldridge had come to know Gordon Barstow well. - -He had a kind of keen, vicarious pity for Barstow. Sometimes, as he -talked with him and the simple lovableness of the man’s nature came up -through the uncouthness, he wondered whether Gordon Barstow might not -have regained his wife--if he had been determined. But he had let her -go; and after the first day he had seemed to take a kind of pleasure in -the proceedings. - -“I’ve been foolish about her,” he said, sitting in Eldridge’s office. -“But I don’t want her to suffer because I’ve been foolish--and I want to -make her an allowance--a good one. I don’t want Cordelia should ever -be poor.” Eldridge looked at him. “Won’t Tower take care of that?” he -suggested. - -The old man seemed to hold it--“He’ll mean to. He’s honest toward her. -I shouldn’t let him marry her if he wasn’t straight. But I want Cordelia -provided for.” - -And Eldridge suddenly saw that he was thinking of her as a man thinks of -his daughter--protectingly. The soreness seemed to have gone out of his -hurt. And there was something big in his attitude toward the two who had -wronged him. “Cordelia’s only a child,” he said. “I don’t believe -I’d ’a’ minded so much--if they’d trusted me. It’s that that hurts, -I guess--thinking of the times they must ’a’ lied--and I not knowing -enough to see anything was wrong.” - -Yes--it was that that hurt--the times Rosalind had slipped away from -him, before he knew--when he hadn’t eyes enough to see. He did not mind -that she went to Merwin’s. Sometimes he was impatient that she did not -go oftener. He would watch eagerly for the look in her face that told -him that to-day was a Merwin day.... He did not mind her going, now that -he knew. It was the not knowing that hurt. - -Sometimes, lately, he had begun to wonder whether Rosalind knew that he -was there, whether she guessed who it was that came through the swinging -doors and sat across the aisle, always a little behind her, and went -away before she left her place.... He liked to fancy that she knew--and -did not mind. - -Men and women were not so small as he had made them in his thought. -There was room in them generally for life to turn round. - -It was this that Gordon Barstow had taught him, he thought. He watched -the old man’s simple preparations to make Cordelia “well off” with quiet -understanding. It was not reparation with him; it was only a steady, -clear intention in the old man’s thought that the woman he had loved and -who had gone from him should not suffer.... “I might have kept her--if -I’d understood quick enough, I guess. I’m slow--about women,” he said. - -Then one day he came into the office. Eldridge had sent him word that -there were last papers to sign--and the business would be done. He came -in slowly, a little pinched with the cold. The wart in the grey-black -beard had a bluish look. Eldridge had learned not to look at the -half-hidden lump of flesh. He had fancied one day, as his eye rested on -it, that the man shrank a little. He had been surprised and he had never -looked at it again. It was the curious bluish look to-day that caught -his eye an instant. - -The old man signed the papers and pushed them back. “Well, I’m -glad--it’s done.” He sat looking at them a minute. “It’s taught me -more than I ever knew before,” he said. He lifted his eyes a minute to -Eldridge. “I’ve learned things--thinking about it--and about her--” - -He sat without speaking a little time. He had come to trust Eldridge, -and he seemed to like to sit quiet like this, at times, without -speaking. “I saw a woman to-day,” he said, “that made me -understand--more than Cordelia has--a woman in at Merwins.”--Eldridge -leaned forward--“She was sitting there alone,” said the old man, “and I -see her face--one of these quiet faces--not old and not young. I -could ’a’ loved her if I’d known her when I was younger--I see how -she was--she sat so quiet there. Well”--he got up and reached for his -hat--“you’ve seen me through. Thank you--for what you’ve done.” And -then he went out and Eldridge looked at his watch--Too late. She would -be gone. It was the first time he had missed her--since he knew. He had -not thought that Barstow’s business would take so long. He gathered up -the papers, filing certain ones and addressing others to be mailed.... -He should miss the old man. He had a feeling underneath his thought, as -he sorted the papers and filed them, that he was glad Barstow had sat -so long even though he had missed Rosalind.... He had seemed to want to -stay. - -Eldridge filed the last of the papers and looked again at his watch. It -was late, but not too late, he decided, to begin the piece of work that -had been put off for nearly a week. He became absorbed in it, and it was -seven o’clock before he left the office. - -The newsboys were shouting extras--as he came out--and he put one in his -pocket. He did not open it. Some one took a seat by him in the car and -they talked till the car reached home. Then the children claimed him; -and after supper he talked a little while with Rosalind. - -There was a maid now in the kitchen and Rosalind’s hands, he was -thinking, as they lay in her lap, were not red and roughened; they had a -delicate look. She sat sometimes without any sewing in them or any fussy -work--talking with him or sitting quiet. The first time she had sat -so, without speaking, he had felt as if the silence were calling -out--shouting his happiness--telling the world that Rosalind trusted -him. - -He opened the paper and glanced at it--and dropped it--as if he were -seeing something. - -She looked up. “What is it?” she asked. - -He took it up again slowly. “It’s a man--I know--Gordon Barstow. They -found him dead--in his car this afternoon. It’s some one you never -knew.” - - - - -XII - - -WEEKS passed and she had not gone to Merwin’s. For a while Eldridge -watched her face and waited for the Merwin look to come.... Then he -forgot it--for weeks he did not think of it. There had been another -concert; they had gone to a play and then to another; and as the spring -came on he took her for long drives into the country; sometimes they -went with the children, but more often alone. They drove far out in the -country and came back at early dusk, the brick houses softly outlined -about them. - -She could not fail to see that he was devoted to her. Sometimes he -brought a flower and left it on her table; he never gave it to her -directly, and there was no response to it. Beyond the one quiet look at -the concert, she had given no sign--only that now she would sit with him -silent, a long time, as if she did not repel him. - -He was working hard and the business had grown. A new class of clients -was coming to him--men with big interests--and the work often kept him -late at the office. Sometimes he would take supper in town and work far -into the evening. - -It was late in June that he came home one night and found her sitting -alone in the porch--a shadowy figure--as he came up the brick walk. - -The day had been warm, but the air had grown cool now and the moon -glimmered over the houses and roofs and on the few trees and shrubs in -the yard. - -They sat a long time in the porch, talking of the children and of the -work he had stayed for and a little about going away for the summer; -they had never been away in the summer, but they were going next week. -He had tried to send her earlier, when the children were through -school, but she had waited, and he had arranged for them all to get away -together. - -The moon rose high over the roofs and picked out the little lines of -vines on the porch and touched her face and hair. She was wearing a -light dress, something filmy, that was half in shadow, and his eyes -traced the lines of it. She was always mysterious, but often now as he -looked at her he felt that her guard was down. There were only a -few steps more to cross--he began to wonder if he should ever take -them--to-night perhaps? Or was he not, after all, the man to win her? - -She did not hold him back. It was something in him that waited. He -watched, through the moonlight, the vine shadows on her face--and -he remembered the night when she lay asleep--and he had watched her -face--the stranger’s face--close to him... and a boy and girl stood in -the moonlight and looked at him mistily--and drew back--and his wife -swayed a little, rocking in her chair, and her shadow moved on the -floor.... - -If he should speak--to her--now--what would she do? Would the gentle -rocking cease?... - -Then, slowly, a face grew before him. He watched it shape and fade--with -its grimness and kindness and a look of pain that lay behind it--old -Barstow’s face!... He knew now--he had come out of the moonlight.... -To-morrow he would speak to Rosalind--face to face, in the clear light -of every day.... The wonder of life was hidden in the sun--not in half -lights--or moonlight.... He was not afraid now. They would go for a long -drive--and he would tell her in the sun. - -But when he looked at her in the morning he knew that he was not to take -her with him out into the country. It was the Merwin look--a little look -of quiet intentness as if she dreamed and would not wake.... - -He looked at it and turned away. He had not seen the look for weeks, but -he knew that he should find her there when he pushed open the swinging -doors and went in. - -The curtains were drawn a little back and he knew, before he sat down, -that she was there--waiting for some one.... He had never seen her like -this--he had not been sure. He had put the thought from him when it -came. But now he knew--she was there waiting for some one, full of -happiness.... He knew her so well! She could not have a happiness he did -not share--and no one should hurt her! His hands half clinched. - -He had not thought she would come--again.... Why had she come? And this -was _his_ day--under the sky!... He had not thought this day she would -come to Merwin’s! - -Then he waited with her. Whatever Rosalind chose--she should not -separate herself from him--or from love.... He would wait with her and -be glad with her.... The strange face--the moonlight face--did not shut -him out now.... - -The swinging doors opened and closed and the man and the woman waited. - -The curtains to her alcove were closed; she had reached a hand to them -and drawn them together.... But she could not shut herself away; he -could see her as clearly as if he were there with her--the bent head and -gentle face. The curtains should not shut him out. - -He could not have told when it was that it came to him--He lifted -his head a minute and looked at it.... She was there waiting for some -one--she had been waiting, a long time, in her alcove--and he had not -stirred! - -He got up slowly and looked across to the green curtain--He moved toward -it--and put out his hand and--drew back the curtain.... She was looking -up, smiling--“You were--a long time!” she said. - -Her hand motioned to the seat across the table--but he did not take it. -He stood looking down at her--He laid his hat on the table and bent and -kissed her. - -Her lip trembled a little but she did not speak. - -He sat down in the chair opposite and looked at her-----“Well--?” he -said. - -She shook the tears from her eyes and smiled through them. “It was a -long while!” she said. - - - - -XIII - - -THE man and the woman in the alcove on the right had been talking a -long while. Three times the waiter had looked in and withdrawn. If he -had stopped long enough he would have seen that it seemed to be the -woman who was talking. The man sat silent, one hand shading his eyes and -the eyes looking out at her as she talked. - -The waiter knew the woman. He had served her--many times. He remembered -very well the first day she came to Merwin’s--a year ago--more than a -year, perhaps. She was alone, and she had stood just inside the -swinging door--looking about her as if she were not used to places like -Merwin’s--or as if she were afraid. Something had made him think that -she was looking for some one--and he had shown her into the third alcove -on the right. But no one had come that day. She had come again many -times since, and always alone, and there was always a coin on the table -in the third alcove waiting for him. - -The waiter was a little disappointed to-day.... He knew the -man--Eldridge Walcott--a lawyer--a good enough sort; but the waiter -somehow felt that they had not met until today. He had served them both -alone--but not together--until to-day.... He pushed aside the curtain -and looked in. - -She was still talking.... The man made a little gesture of refusal, and -he withdrew.... - -“It was when Tom sent me the five hundred--” the waiter heard her say as -the curtain fell in place. - -The man in the alcove behind the curtain was looking at her--“When did -Tom send you--five hundred?” - -“A year ago--a little more than a year, I think--” She paused to think -it out. “He had not sent us anything, you know--not since little Tom was -born--?” She was looking at him, straight---- - -His own look did not flinch. “I know--I put it into the business--called -it investing it--for Tommie--at six per cent.” - -She nodded. “Tom never liked it. I suppose mother told him--that we had -not used it to buy things with--the way he meant us to.” - -“For things you needed,” said the man. “I know--I knew then--but I took -it.” He did not excuse himself--and his eyes did not look away from her. -“I was blind,” he said softly. - -“That was what Tom wrote--when he sent the five hundred. He said that I -must spend it on myself--or return it to him.... And that I was to -tell him just what I bought with it--every penny of it--” She waited a -minute. - -“Did he say anything else?” asked the man. “Better tell me everything, -wouldn’t you--Rosalind?” - -“He said that he was not setting Eldridge Walcott up in business,” she -added after a little minute--and she smiled at him tenderly. - -Eldridge returned the look--“We don’t mind--now.” - -“No.”... They were silent a few minutes. “I thought--at first--I -_would_ send it back. I wrote to Tom how many things we needed--for the -house--and the children--and for everything--” - -“What did he say?” - -“He asked me if you would _let_ me spend it for the house and for the -children and for everything--if you knew about it?” - -The man’s eyes were looking at Mr. Eldridge Walcott, regarding him -impartially. “I am glad that you did not let me know.” - -“Yes. I sent it back--once. But Tom wrote again--all about when we were -children and when he gave me the biggest bites of candy and filled my -pail up to the top when we went berrying-----He said it was what had -made a man of him--keeping my pail full.” - -Eldridge winced a little. But she did not stop. “He said he wanted me to -spend the money for the little girl _he_ knew. - -“I didn’t spend it--not for a long time, you know. But I kept it and -I looked at it--sometimes--and wondered.... Then one day I saw a -dress--that I liked. I thought it was like me, a little--?” She looked -at him------ - -He nodded. - -“So I got it--and that was the end, I guess.” She laughed tremulously. -“Everything kept coming after that. The dress seemed to make me need-- -_everything!_” She spread out her hands. - -Then she sat thinking--and looking at the dress that needed everything. -“I wore it at first just at home--when I was alone. I would put it on -and sit down and fold my hands--and think of things... about Tom and -about being a little girl--and about mother. I was always rested when -I took it off... and when the children came in from school and you came -home, I could bear things better.”.... - -He reached out a hand and touched hers where it lay on the table.... He -had said that he should touch it--some time. He stroked it a minute and -she went on. - -“Then I came here--” She made a little gesture. “I didn’t know what it -was like--I didn’t even know there was a place like this.” She -glanced around the alcove that sheltered them--with its folds of green -curtain--“But as soon as I came, I knew I should come again. I knew it -would take care of me--the way Tom wanted for me. So I spent the money.” - She lifted the little linked purse from the table--she laughed. “Only -fifty cents left--You ’re here just in time!” - -Eldridge held out his hand. “Give it to me.” - -She looked at him. - -“I want it--yes. Aren’t you willing to give me fifty cents--of your five -hundred?” - -She handed it to him with a little sigh of relief. - -He took it and balanced it thoughtfully in his hand--“Why did you come -to-day?” he asked. - -“This is my anniversary day.” - -“To-day?” - -She nodded--as if she saw a vision. “It is a year to-day that I came -here--the first time.” - -“Alone--?” The word breathed itself--and stopped, and Eldridge put out a -hand. “Don’t tell me! I did not ask it.” - -“Don’t you know?” She was looking at him. - -“Yes, I know. I do not understand--but I know.” - -She smiled and sat silent.... “I was frightened to come!” It seemed as -if she were looking at the strangeness of it. “I was afraid--the first -day--” - -“You should have asked me to come,” he urged. - -“Would you have come?” - -“No--not then.” - -“And I had to come! I could not wait--and there was--no one.... You -would not have come--not even if I had waited.” - -“No--I should not have come--except to find you.... Tell me, have you -never been afraid of me--of what I would do?” - -“The first day--yes--I was terribly frightened when you came in and sat -over there,” she moved her hand. “I wanted to scream out--to go to you -and tell you what it meant, and beg you not to be angry.... I had never -done anything without you before. I was like a child! Then you went out -and I hurried home. I tore off the things. I did not mind your -knowing. I only wanted you to understand. I was afraid you might -not--understand.” - -“I didn’t--” - -“No--I know. But after a while--I knew you were trying to.... Then I -knew that some day we should be here--together.” - -The little alcove seemed to expand and become a wide place--Eldridge -caught a glimpse of something fine and sincere--it passed like a breath -over her face and was gone. - -She lifted the face--“I have waited for it,” she said. “I have prayed -for it every day, I think.” Her lips barely moved the words--“I did not -want to feel alone here.” - -He pushed back the curtain and beckoned to the waiter. “We will drink to -the day,” he said. - -Eldridge gave his order and looked on, smiling, while the waiter placed -the slender-necked flask on the table and brought out the glasses and -withdrew. - -They lifted the glasses. “To the day--you left me,” he said. “And to the -day I followed you,” he added slowly. - -The glass paused in her hand. “That was the Symphony--?” - -“Yes--And to your anniversary!” - -She set down the glass. “I have not told you everything. It was not--my -anniversary--made me come--to-day.” - -“No?” - -She shook her head. “I came--to meet--you!” she said. - -He looked at her slowly--“And when did you know that I would come?” he -asked. - -“Last night--in the moonlight. I was so afraid you would speak there--in -the moon! I did not want the moon to get in,” she said. “I wanted you to -speak in real, plain daylight--and then, of course, you know, it’s Tom’s -gown and not the moon. Everybody has the moon!” she laughed. - -“This is a very little place, this alcove,” said Eldridge. He was -looking about him at the green walls of the alcove--thinking of the sun -and the fields and of the road up through the hills---- - -“But it’s where I went berrying with Tom,” she laughed. - -He smiled at her. “Then it is as big as the world--and the sun and all -the fields of the sun!” he said. - -Outside the curtain the music tinkled dimly, and there was a lower -music still of all the glasses and words--and there was a silence in the -alcove. - -“So there has never been any one--any one but me--” he said, “in your -alcove!” He was looking at her hap-pily. - -“No.” Her lip waited on it--and closed. “There _was_ some one--” she -spoke slowly. “It seems a queer thing to tell. It had no beginning -and no end!” She waited, still looking at it.... “It was a man--an old -man--that used to sit over there to the left, at a table by himself. I -could see him through the curtains. Even when they were almost closed -I could see him. He always sat there, and always alone.... I did not -notice him at first.... I do not think any one would have noticed -him--at first. He was almost ugly--or he seemed ugly.” She was smiling -at her thought.... “And one day suddenly I saw him as he really was, as -he was inside--very gentle and strong and wise--and not wanting to hurt -any one or to let any one suffer--more than they had to. I knew, some -way, if I should go up to him and speak to him, that he would understand -me--and help me. I should have liked to--speak to him. Of course it -is really the same as if I did.”... She seemed thinking of it. “But I -didn’t. I never saw him more than a dozen times, I suppose. But I -used to think about him, and it helped me. I should have trusted him -anywhere--and been willing to go with him--anywhere in the world. I -don’t believe he was very clever--but it rested me to think of him--just -as a big, homely field rests you--and the way the music did that first -night--when we knew each other-----” - -After a minute she went on. “I have not seen him for a long time. He -stopped coming suddenly....” - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Woman in the Alcove, by Jennette Lee - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WOMAN IN THE ALCOVE *** - -***** This file should be named 51989-0.txt or 51989-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/8/51989/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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